"I don't want to look." I kept my eyes squeezed shut
"It looks so good though Lola, just look!" Jamie said
"Fine, but if my hair looks like shit, I Will literally cut-" I trailed off as I saw what my hair looked like. It had been layered, then colored a deep honey color, instead of my usual shit brown. My dread was still there, and a couple of small braids had been added. My usual slight frizz had been turned into small waves, and it looked amazing, "Oh my god, my hair looks like god did it himself." I admired
"You look like a normal human being." Sam smiled
"I've always looked like a normal human being, just a bit more hobo." I giggled
"Hey, it's eight, what time do you have to check in?" Jamie asked
"Before nine. I'll start walking over in a minute." I waved my hand, admiring my hair some more
"I can drive you." Sam said
"No, it's okay, if they see me in someones car, they're going to think that I'm getting into trouble." I rolled my eyes, "Thanks for everything today. Someday, when I'm rich, I'll pay you back."
"You know you don't have too. My mom has enough money to buy an island near Hawaii." She laughed
"Love you guys, see you later." I gave quick hugs, the left the warm salon. The ocean breeze was rolling in, which made it cold enough for me to pick up the pace. It was almost 8:45 when I got to the shelter.
"Hey Denise, just here to check in." I waved, writing my name on the list
"Lola, there's a social worker in there looking for you." she whispered, pointing to the main office. Denise was a homeless woman who volunteered here everyday, and she knew all of the gossip.
"I haven't had a social worker in a year, what do they want?" I asked, looking through the blinds
"I have no clue." she kissed her teeth, "Don't do nothing to get yourself in anymore trouble with 'em."
"Thanks Denise, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." I hung out in the lobby for a second more, trying to decide what to do, when eventually, I turned to leave.
"Lola, there is a social worker here to see you. They want to ask you a few questions." Rory, the manager, called from the door before I could walk out.
"I don;t need to see a social worker, I've been emancipated." I explained
"I don't know, Lola, just come talk to them." he motioned for me to come into the room
"Hello Lola, I'm Veronica Jules, I'm assigned to your case." The woman shook my hand
"I don't have a case. I'm not in the system anymore. I have papers that say so." I reached into my bag to find them
"Not your foster system case, it's got something to do with legal charges." she explained
"Legal charges! I haven't done anything illegal!" I exclaimed in disbelief
"There isn't much evidence, but they believe that you may be a part of a prostitution ring." she said
"A what?" I shook my head, "I'm not part of anything."
"Somebody sent in a confession that you had been participating in the ring." she said
"I'm definitely not." I rolled my eyes
"Are you sexually active?" She asked, writing something down on a notepad
"Well, yeah, but-"
"How many partners have you had, and when?"
"Three, and they've all been in the last week." She raised her eyebrows and looked at me over the top of her glasses, "But I swear I'm not prostituting myself out. I'm actually just trying to win a contest."
"Okay, we're going to start doing drug tests once a month, starting in two weeks. Can you give me your current residence?" she asked
"Uh, yeah. I'm staying at the Coral Motel, over on 8th and Moore street. I'm in room, I think, 208. It's on the left side of the building. There is a spray painted picture of a penis on the door." She snorted at my description, then looked back up at me
"We'll be in touch." she handed me a card
"Wait, can you tell me who sent that confession thing in?" I asked, grabbing her arm
"Sorry, I can't do that." she smiled, then left.
I stomped out of the room, and ran all the way back to the motel.