Page 10 of His To Erase
Ani
For the first time in weeks, I actually had a night off. And I wasted it saying yes to this date.
Sarah and I were supposed to hang out—vegging on pizza in our sweatpants, watching something stupid on TV. I was looking forward to it. She even promised to bring wine this time, which means I was definitely robbed.
At least we have part of the day.
I’m sitting cross-legged on a bench with a towel around my shoulders and bleach fumes burning my nose while Sarah mixes toner like she’s doing God’s work.Okay, she is. Bleaching my hair is not for the weak.She’s wearing an old band shirt, socks pulled halfway up her calves, and her Ipad is balanced on the sink playing The Big Bang Theory.
I’m trying not to gag at the smell.
She’s squinting at the back of my head like it personally offended her. “This section is so thick, I’m pretty sure it just gave me attitude.”
I smile into my coffee. “They’re tired of your abuse.”
She scoffs, parting another piece with the brush. “Please. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to your scalp.”
I hum. “That’s what my last therapist said, too.”
“Ha. Not me being more consistent than your therapist.”
“Honestly? That tracks.”
She leans closer, brushing toner down to the ends while humming something vaguely threatening while I try not to move.
“I still can’t believe you’re going on this date,” she says, shifting to the other side. “I thought we agreed he gives red flag energy.”
I lift a brow in the mirror. “You agreed. I just nodded because you had foils in.”
She tilts her head so I can’t see her face but I know she’s glaring. “You’re emotionally compromised.”
“Says the girl who’s been flirting with catfish.”
She glares. “He’s not a catfish. He’s keeping the suspense alive. It’s foreplay—with a moral code that definitely includes choking.”
I nearly spit my coffee. “Jesus Christ. You’re going to get baby snatched one day.”
“No way.” she says innocently. “Communication is hot. So is choking. Ideally at the same time.”
I snort, biting the inside of my cheek. “Remind me why I let you near chemicals?”
“Because I don’t trust anyone else not to turn your blonde into a cautionary tale.”
Fair.
She was one of the first people I saw when I moved here—grinning behind the bar with this wild, unbothered energy like nothing could shake her. I hadn’t even said a word yet, and she handed me a shot and told me I looked like I needed it.
Something about us just clicked after that. No weird in-between stage of pretending to be normal. Just full-send chaos and honesty from the start.
We’ve been like this ever since.
You know when you find that one person you can say literally anything to—like there’s no filter, no judgment, just instant understanding? That’s her.
My disaster twin.
“You’re sure you wanna go?” she asks after a pause. “You don’t have to say yes just to prove you’re not still wrecked by what happened.”
She knows me too well sometimes.
