Page 83 of My So-Called Perfect Life
“Yep.”
“Wonderful. We’re going to do here now,” she says, pointing to the area above my pubic bone.
I watch as she spreads the wax diagonally across the hair.
“Take another deep breath for me, Danielle.”
She rips the wax off, and instead of releasing my breath, a scream flies out as I see stars.
Holy shit!
Ohmigod, ohmigod, I’m dying.
My body jackknifes up, and I almost knock Lana out in a head butt as the pain sears through my body as if someone just branded me with the hottest iron they could find. I swear to God, she just skinned my vagina.
“Are you all right?” Lana asks, clearly shocked. Worry fills her eyes.
Biting down on my bottom lip, I nod as I stare at the angry red triangle sitting where a patch of hair used to be. “Mmhmm.”
It wasn’t even a large section of hair, and I want to throw up. Easy-breezy, my ass. This really is some kind of medieval torture. Why the hell would anyone do this to themselves?
I take stock of the apex of my thighs. There are two huge red areas where she did the bikini line, but I still have two lips that need to be done, another half of the top, and the back end. I can’t imagine what the lower half will feel like if the top part was so bad.
There’s no way I can finish this. Nope. Not a chance in hell I can sit through that again—four more times at least. I’ll die. I’ll have a pain-induced heart attack and die.
Death by waxing.
I swear to God, I’m going to murder my sister and Mercy.
“Do you need a minute?” Lana asks politely.
There’s a knock on the door, and I hear my sister ask, “Dani, you okay?”
“I hate you,” I tell her. “I will get you back for this.”
Lana chuckles beside me as Amelia says, “It’s not that bad. Want me to hold your hand?”
“No.” I turn to Lana as I swing my legs over the side of the table. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t finish. I’m sorry. Honestly, on the next one, there’s a high possibility I’d throw up on you.”
“Don’t be a baby, Danielle,” Amelia calls through the door
Lana grips my hand. “Are you sure? I need to advise you that if this is for a special occasion, you shouldn’t go home and try to shave for at least twenty-four hours. It could cause irritation and a breakout.”
Not even that is enough to sway my mind. Ryan has never complained before, and I doubt he will now. Besides, I’ll just push our plans back a little bit and wait to shave.
“That’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
I don’t even care about Lana getting a full view of my ass as I walk to the corner of the room for my things. She was just all up in my coochie anyway.
Amelia is waiting for me outside the door when I open it.
“Don’t you say a word.” I point a finger at her. “Not a single word.”
I stomp angrily down the hall, still not hearing any other screams of branding terror. Maybe they soundproof the walls to not scare everyone away. No, because, clearly, Amelia heard my scream.
Mercy and Amelia don’t cover their laughter very well as I pay the lady at the desk for a third of a Brazilian wax.
“I cannot believe you didn’t finish.” Amelia corners me as soon as we get outside.
