Page 73 of Just Friends Forever
It takes a lot less time to style it, though, which means when I get to Troy’s apartment, he’s still not done getting ready. He’s probably taking a comb through his hair for the fiftieth time. He’s one of the few men I know who blows his hair dry.
I get to work in the kitchen, pulling out some yogurt and putting bread in the toaster. I’ve got a knife to the butter when I hear Troy come in.
“Hope you’re good with yogurt and toast because—” I turn to put the knife in the sink and glance at Troy. I freeze.
He offers a grimacing smile and rubs his head. His shiny, bald head.
25
STEVIE
I can’t speak.I’m speakless.
Troy shaved his head. His precious, precious hair. The reason we ever became friends in the first place. It’s gone now.
“I know,” he says. “My one beauty.”
“Are you quoting the OGLittle Women?”
“It’snotthe OG one,” he says. “I think there were two before it. You’ve spent enough time with my mom. You should know this.”
Sue Sheppard is aLittle Womenconnoisseur and watches all the versions every Christmas, but the Winona Ryder one was always her favorite.
“Silly me,” I say, my gaze flitting to his head over and over. There’s a sense of real loss inside me as the light glints off it. “Troy, you didnothave to do that. I was totally kidding.”
“I know,” he says with a shrug.
“How do you feel about it?” His dark eyebrows and blue eyes are even more striking without hair.
“I don’t know,” he says casually, putting a hand to his head and rubbing. “It’s giving Vin Diesel vibes.”
I laugh. Vin Dieselwisheshe looked like Troy Sheppard.
He keeps rubbing his bare skin, his expression thoughtful. “It’s smooth. For now, at least. It’ll keep me cooler, too. It’ll probably cut getting-ready-time in half. And as a bonus, I can act as a human reflector.”
“But do you like it?” I ask.
He drops his hand and stares at me. His eyebrows tug together in an adorably pathetic expression. “I hate it.”
I grimace sympathetically and motion for him to come to me. Shoulders slumped, he shuffles toward me, and I hug him just like he hugged me. And just like then, I never want to let go.
“I can’t believe you shaved your head,” I say. “You win the best friend award.”
“Finally,” he says with a satisfied sigh.
I pull back. “Can I touch it?” I’ve tried to touch Troy’s hair countless times in my life, but the force field he’s constructed around it makes him able to anticipate even my sneakiest attempts.
“Have at it.”
I stretch my hand to the top of his head, and my fingers tingle at the feel of the smooth skin. I can’t believe he shaved off all of his cherished hair. To makemefeel better.
“It won’t bite,” he says, amused at my hesitant touch.
I smile and splay my fingers, running my hand toward the back until it reaches the crown of his head. His eyes are fixed on me, the remnants of a smile on his lips. We’re close. Really close, and a sudden urge to bring his mouth to mine makes my pulse buzz.
Whatwouldit feel like to kiss Troy? To show him what I think of his ridiculous gesture of solidarity, to let him know how I really feel for him without having to figure out how to phrase it? My pulse tells me it might blow my mind.
I step back. “You really Bicc-ed it, didn’t you?”
