LINDSAY
Lindsay had silky-smooth silver hair and high cheekbones, and when I stared at her in the mirror I didn't even recognize Nicole Thorn underneath. Mom had done just as good of a job disguising me under makeup as she had with Hannah, and I was convinced that as long as Noah didn't force a washcloth up to my face again, he would never see who I really was.
Mom had clearly put everything she had into my transformation, using it as therapy for herself. Her tears had slowly dried on her cheeks as she had coated mascara, eyeliner, and foundation on to my face, and though she didn't crack a smile as she usually did while giving me makeovers, her clenched fists slowly eased over the hour or two it took to transform me. My cheeks felt cakey and my eyes felt heavy from all the makeup, but she had done a good job hiding my eyelids that were puffy from my tears as well as the dark circles right above my cheekbones. She had entirely concealed Nicole under Lindsay, and my relief was immediate.
"Are you going out?" she asked as she unsnapped my cape and shook it out; it was stained lightly from the silver hair dye. Mom had even added a few lavender-colored streaks to my silver waves that roughly resembled her own.
I nodded, running my fingers through my hair gently. There was not a single tangle, and the shampoo Mom had used left an orange scent wafting through the air. "Yeah," I said, standing and pulling down my athletic shorts. I debated returning home to change my clothes, then remembered that I had to change my contacts, anyway. Mom had recommended a cloudy grey color--I guessed it could suit Lindsay's mysterious personality.
"All right." Mom began cleaning up behind me, straightening bottles of hairspray and conditioner and wrapping the cord of the hairdryer back into its proper place. "I'm going to stay here for a while, so I may not be back when you get home."
I knew she was planning on staying at the salon as long as possible so that she didn't have to return home and face the rest of the family. This place was a relief to her just like being other people was a relief to me.
With a small nod, I pushed my hair over my shoulders so that it grazed the small of my back and then pushed open the front door of the salon, squinting my eyes as the sunlight blinded me. It was only just after one o'clock, and the possibilities of the afternoon were endless.
As I walked the short way home, I pulled out my phone to text Noah. I hadn't communicated with him since our brief phone call the previous night, and even that didn't seem to be real. Noah probably wouldn't even remember that conversation, and he'd probably forgotten everything that had happened at the party. I wondered if he'd even remember Hannah at all.
Hey, I texted him, my fingers flying across the keys. I glanced up to make sure I was still walking in a straight line along the sidewalk, then ducked my head down again to look at my phone. I'm going to Aroma Mocha and I'll be there in about twenty minutes. We should go see a movie when you finish your shift.
Smirking, I locked my phone and pocketed it. Despite everything that was going on in my life, I felt slightly better knowing that Noah Murdock was about to get what he deserved--or at least part of it. No amount of revenge on my part would ever get him back for all the heartbreak and pain he had caused me.
Still, a part of me was happy that he had done what he did, because otherwise I would never have turned to my transformations, and I would have no way of coping with what my family was going through. Of course, Mom and Dad probably wouldn't have started fighting more frequently if it weren't for their conflicting opinions about my makeovers.
Exhaling loudly, a kicked a pebble out of the way with my tennis shoe and watched as it skipped across the pavement and rolled into the road, where it came to a stop before being obliterated by an oncoming truck's tire. When had my life become so complicated?
I received a reply from Noah in the form of a phone call when I was about five minutes away from home. Warily, I answered--he usually wasn't the type to make unnecessary phone calls.
"Hello?" I asked, my voice sounding too loud in the quiet neighborhood street. I switched my phone to my other ear so that I could bend down to retie one of my shoelaces. It wasn't even unknotted, but I felt desperate for something to do that didn't involve walking along that empty road with only Noah's voice to distract me from the mundane scenery.
"Nicole? Hey." It was Noah, and by the sounds of it he wasn't at Aroma Mocha. At least, I didn't hear the cheerful sounds of people chatting as they sipped coffee or the background music the café usually played. "Where are you?"
"Hopefully heading over to Aroma Mocha soon," I said, standing and continuing to walk. I already began brainstorming excuses if he offered to come over to my house instead of meeting me somewhere. "Where are you? You don't sound like you're at work."
He didn't even hesitate as he said, "I'm not. I've got the day off. But I'd love to hang out with you, and I can still meet you at Aroma Mocha in around fifteen minutes if you're cool with that."
"Sure." My house was in sight, and I jogged the last little bit of the way in order to reach my doorstep. "I've got to go. Bye."
Before he could say anything back, I hung up and headed up the porch steps.
It was hard for me to even talk to Noah after knowing everything he'd done to me, but I knew it was necessary. I couldn't let on that I was Hannah or that I even knew what had happened at the party--not yet. And in order to do that, I had to keep pretending that I was naive and that I was still madly in love with him while clueless that he was playing me.
He wasn't tricking me anymore; I knew who he was and that he had no feelings for me. But it was also hard for me to distance myself from him so suddenly, when I'd liked him for so long and when I'd thought he'd finally started to like me back. Maybe this was also a way to help myself pull away.
Dad wasn't in the family room anymore as I climbed the stairs and went into my bedroom, and it was all too easy to avoid him in our too-big house as I changed my clothes and contacts before going back outside. I didn't see Nicholas, either, and figured that he and my father were either in one of the rarely used spare rooms in our house or that they'd gone out for a little while. Dad had probably taken my little brother bowling; he loved playing the different arcade games.
I walked to Aroma Mocha instead of driving, because it would make me late for my date with Noah and because I wanted him to know that Nicole wasn't showing up. I wanted him to see that she was standing him up, and I wanted to see if there was any hurt on his face at the prospect of being rejected.
Before entering Aroma Mocha, I stopped in front of the window of Maya's Boutique to check my reflection. I looked nothing like myself, and I doubted Noah would ever notice who I was, either. Standing there and staring at myself as Lindsay, I began to question that I'd ever even been another girl, someone who had problems with her boyfriend, her parents, her friends, and even her little brother.
The bell to the coffee shop jingled as I slipped inside, my stride casual and my expression nonchalant. I immediately spotted Noah sitting at one of the high-top tables in the center of the shop; he looked out of place in the café wearing a t-shirt and jeans instead of his usual staff apron. My heart twisted as I saw him and I forced myself to keep my breaths calm as I went up to the counter and ordered an iced coffee.
When I turned around with my drink a few minutes later, I saw that his eyes were on me, but he was staring at me not as if I were someone he knew but simply as if he were appreciating my unique appearance. I caught his eye and smirked at him before weaving my way through the tables to approach him. The way I made myself look at him made me feel nauseous, but I didn't let myself turn away.
"Hey there," I said, propping up onto the stool next to him and setting my drink down on a napkin in front of me. His eyes had widened considerably and he was now watching me cautiously, as if I might do something sudden. "You looked lonely, so I thought I might come over here and sit with you."
I kept my tone flirty, something I knew he'd respond to, and sure enough, the concern on his face faded almost immediately. "I am a little," he said, flashing me a smile filled with two rows of straight, pearly white teeth. That smile, which would have made me weak only a week ago, made me feel sick. I doubted I could swallow any of my coffee, but I took a tentative sip anyway so that I could continue to look casual.
"What, you mean to say you're sitting here all alone?" I asked once I'd forced myself to swallow the gulp I'd basically inhaled.
His smile widened. "Actually, I'm waiting on a girl," he said, running a hand through his light brown hair and making it spiky. "She was supposed to meet me here, but she's about ten minutes late."
I scooted my chair closer to him and leaned forward on the table. "Sounds like she might not even show up." I waited for a reaction from him but got none, and made myself continue in that same robotic flirty voice. "Do you care?"
"No." His expressive brown eyes hadn't left mine as he stared at me unblinkingly. Then he slowly reached out a hand to touch my hair, but before he could make contact I yanked my head away.
"I don't think so," I said playfully, my eyes bright. "You said you were waiting for someone."
Noah leaned forward to make up the distance we'd lost, until I smelled that familiar mint fanning across my cheeks. "She's not important. Really," he said, his deep eyes with the gold flecks in the irises staring at me pleadingly. "She's really not."
I stared into those irises, then into the deep black pupils, as my heart hammered incessantly in my chest. It was much harder for me than I'd thought to face him after everything that had happened, and I found my resolve slipping away as I stared at him. He was practically begging for me to spend time with him--was I really one to say no?
That was when I realized: he didn't want to spend time with me. He hated me, and he'd basically said it to Lindsay's face. He only wanted to spend time with Lindsay so that maybe she'd let him kiss her and then they'd go over to his house afterwards and he'd be able to forget all about the girl he was really stuck with because of his stupid dare. I could feel how much he regretted that dare as he stared back into Lindsay's eyes, how much he wanted to be free from his clingy girlfriend. But he wouldn't give up his pride for it, even if it meant saving her heart.
"So you're sitting in a coffee shop all alone waiting for a girl who's really not important?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from his and staring into my plastic cup instead. I took my straw and stirred the brown liquid around in circles, already calming down now that I wasn't staring at him anymore.
Noah took my chin lightly in his hand and tilted my face upwards so that I was forced to stare at him again. "Let's just say I wasn't expecting to run into someone like you," he said softly.
Had he not played this game with me over and over again, I would have fallen for it, mistaking his tone for sincerity and eagerly accepting his offer. Most other girls would have. That was what he did: sit around waiting for girls to come running to him so that he could use them and then break them, one by one. I'd been there, and I wasn't going down that path again. But that didn't mean I couldn't play along.
"Oh, really?" I asked, reaching up to lace my fingers through his. "You mean you weren't expecting to run into someone with silver hair and purple highlights?"
His hand wasn't warm anymore like it used to be, just cool and clammy and too large. But he curled his fingers around mine and smiled wider, saying, "That too."
"And what if your girl walks through the door right now?" I asked.
Something flashed through his eyes--fear. But not fear that Nicole would be angry; fear that he would lose his dare. I wondered if he'd bet anything on his success. For a moment, I expected him to pull away and draw back, his eyes clouding, but instead he said resolutely, "I wouldn't care."
"Is that so?"
He pushed away my coffee cup with his free hand so that all there was between us was empty table space. Then he placed his hand on my cheek, and I could feel his pulse in his fingers. It wasn't fast like someone who was nervous, and the expression on his face wasn't cautious. He just looked practiced, like he was swooping down again for more prey. This time, though, I wouldn't let him catch me.
Slowly, I drew one of my hands up so that it was on his cheek. I rubbed my thumb up and down from his cheekbone down to the corner of his mouth, musing out loud, "I bet she wouldn't be happy if she walked in. What if the door opened and she walked in and saw this?"
There was no more fear in Noah's eyes, just determination. I leaned forward so that my nose was pressed against his, and as his breaths began to match mine, I could tell he was becoming mesmerized. "What if," I said, my words barely audible, "She walked in right now."
It must have been the most crazy coincidence ever, because when I snapped my thumb and index finger together just a breadth away from his ear, the bell to Aroma Mocha jingled to signal someone's entrance. And in that moment, Noah immediately started away from me, clearly hypnotized into believing that Nicole Thorn actually was walking right through that door.
I turned around, expecting to see a random stranger before lightly making fun of Noah for being so jumpy. But when I twisted around in my seat, I saw it wasn't a stranger that had walked through the door to order a coffee from the barista.
It was Dad, and he was staring right at me, as if he were completely immune to my disguise and instead saw his daughter sitting in the shop, dressed up as someone else and drinking coffee with the boy he'd forbidden her to be around. My stomach didn't even have time to fall to my feet when he strode right up to our table.
Yet instead of taking me by the arm and pulling me out of the shop his palm came down hard on the table, and instead of staring at me he was staring at Noah, and instead of addressing me he said seethingly to my boyfriend, "I knew it." And Noah's eyes widened as he realized who was before him, but before he could say anything Dad had turned on me.
I realized right then that his eyes were staring at me as if I were unfamiliar, and I realized that he had no idea I was his daughter--he just thought I was some girl Noah was using to break Nicole's heart. He had barely spat out the words, "And you" before recognition flickered in his eyes and he whispered, "Nicole?"