Page 52 of One More Chance

“Oh my god.”

“What?” she asks, holding her hands out in innocence.

“I know it’s coming. Just do it,” I say.

“I can’t just enjoy your little walk of shame?” She laughs.

“Who says I’m ashamed?”

“Atta girl,” she says, patting me on the back.

“I feel a mess of other things, but shame isn’t one of them,” I admit.

“Oh no.”

I tell her we need to talk when we meet for lunch later, and then I make my way to the shower where I peel out of the stupid leather pants from the night before. With any luck, this will be the last time. They’re so uncomfortable. I make a mental note to shove them to the back of my closet and never look back.

I let the hot water run over my body for what seems like forever before I even make a move for soap or shampoo. Steam fills the room while I let everything run off me and down the drain. I finally lather shampoo in, scrubbing from my scalp all the way down. My hair nearly touches my ass and I pull it around, examining it in my hand. And then, it hits me.

I finish my shower as quickly as I can, conditioning next and then washing my body. I dry off and dress then brush my teeth. I throw my hair up into a bun on top of my head, not bothering to dry it. I collect my purse and phone from my room and put on shoes. Running downstairs, I’m yelling for my sister before I hit the bottom floor.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Lyla yells, coming into the hallway from the kitchen, concern in her voice. Her hand is clutched to her chest as if I’ve been screaming that someone attacked me.

“Nothing’s wrong. I need to you take me somewhere. I don’t want to go alone.”

“Okay, where are we going?” she asks.

“I need you to take me to the salon.”

Lyla’s eyes grow wide, not fully comprehending what I’m asking. She looks up at my hair. “Okay. Let’s go.”