Maeve
My mama raised a rebel. Now, I’m not saying it was intentional. In fact, I’d go as far as to say her intentions had been the exact opposite. She grew up in the big-hair-don’t-care Debutante ball south. Having a daughter who took after her had never been a question in her mind.
Through grade school and junior high, I’d spend my weekends at cotillion lessons learning manners and etiquette. Some of it, I hadn’t minded one bit. Other parts, the parts that felt like they were squeezing me and squeezing me until I fit into the only acceptable mold for a lady? Those woke up my rebellious nature.
My mama didn’t raise me on her own, but my daddy grew up in the same world she had. He had a soft spot for me and let me get away with more than she ever had, but in most aspects of parenting, he deferred to her. That was how his daddy had done it, and his grandfather before that.
“Ouch!”
My hand flew to my hair, which was being yanked out by the root.
“Oh, shush. You sound like I’m torturing you.” Swatting my hand away, Haven continued working on the braid crown on the top of my head.
“I mean, I think what you’re doin’ might be considered a form of torture.”
“I seem to recall you asking me to do this,” she said.
“Clearly I’d forgotten how wicked your fingers could be. I won’t even need a braid next time, I’ll be bald.”
She snorted. “Bald chicks are pretty rock n’ roll. You’d look hot with no hair.”
My hand covered the top of my head again. “Don’t you dare get any ideas. I need hair—and lots of it. If I was a teeny tiny thing like you, I could get away with it, but since I’m not, I’d just look like a cue ball.”
She stabbed my scalp with a Bobby pin, but I kept my complaints to myself. When she started stabbing, I knew the torture was almost over.
“If I had your boobs, I’d willingly give up my hair for life,” Haven said.
“I’d donate a tit to you if I could,” I replied.
We’d had this conversation before. More than once. After living together for five years, we’d had every outlandish conversation there was to have. She never failed to keep me laughing.
“There.” Haven stepped in front of me, looking over her work. “Sexy AF.”
I inspected myself in the dressing room mirror. It was cloudy and cracked in the corner, but it got the job done. When I performed, I had to have my hair off my face and neck. I wasn’t ashamed of how sweaty I got on stage, but no one needed to see my hair plastered to my cheeks in the process. My eyes were smoky, lips matte. I wore my favoriteGooniesT-shirt I’d found at Goodwill a few years ago and sliced up to make it cuter, my holey boyfriend jeans, and black, lace-up Docs.
If my mama could see me now…
“Thanks, girl. Not that anyone’s gonna pay me any mind with you out front lookin’ like an alien pixie.”
Haven twisted and turned, preening in her neon green latex pants and matching crop top. Her blue hair flowed over her shoulders in waves, and her lipstick tonight was the exact same shade. She sang punk rock, but looked like a club kid from the nineties, and she didn’t give a flying flip. Haven was Haven, and that was all there was to it.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Liam, her brother and bassist, stuck his head in the dressing room, his eyes pinched shut. “Ready? We’ve got a pretty good crowd out there tonight.”
Haven gripped his plain T-shirt and yanked him into the room, laughing. “For Christ’s sake, we got dressed before we got here. Did you think we’d just take our tits out while we waited for showtime?”
He cracked an eye open, laughing and holding up his hands. “Hey, who knows what goes on in here, I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”
“Thank you, Liam. That’s very considerate of you,” I said.
He sidled closer to me, taking in my dark makeup and red bra visible beneath my tattered shirt. “You look really fucking pretty, Maeve.”
“Thanks, sugar. Your sister made me all fancy.”
Liam was sweet, but he was nineteen, and while I was only twenty-three, that particular age gap would always be a big no for me. Plus, he was Haven’s brother, so that’d never happen, even if we were the same age.
Haven cleared her throat. “Let’s go kiddies. It’s showtime.”