“Come in, I’ll get you something to drink.”

  Lawrence Young’s house was a small, intimate place on the outskirts of the rundown district known as Bucktail. On the drive back home, he made it known to me that his parents owned a small store that did well enough for his family, but that they had only become wealthy when his brother, Lars Young, who was ten years his senior, made it big in the tech industry. The elder son had offered to move them out of the Bucktail area for years now, but his father and mother simply refused to give up their small store in the community they had grown accustomed to since moving to America. The brother did not shy away from spoiling both Laura and Lawrence, however, gifting them hand-me-down vehicles and sending the former sibling to college from out of his own pocket.

  I followed Lawrence in taking my shoes off and stepped onto the wooden floors elevated above the entrance. Once again, I was forced to admire the work he’d put into his body as he slid his jacket off and hung it onto the coat rack. The lean muscles he’d built were enough to inspire a boyish envy in me, but I decided that there was no point in dwelling on it.

  The two of us stepped into the small living area after traversing the hallway, where we found someone, a middle-aged Korean woman wearing a white dress with stains decorating its body, sitting down on the sofa watching the television with a pack of potato chips.

  “?????? .“ He said, sliding his backpack off then entering to grab a chair.

  “?,? ?????” She turned to face me, then turned back to the television. “? ?? ????”

  “?? ? ???. ?? ??? ??? ???? ??.”

  “???. ?? ??? ?????. ?? ?? ?? ???.”

  He sucked his teeth. “??, ? ???? ???? ?????...”

  I had no idea what either of them were saying, but I decided to be sociable and speak up. “Good afternoon, ma’am.”

  She took a second look at me, then turned back to the television.

  “?? ??? ?????” she asked.

  “?. ????.” He dragged a chair away from the dining table and placed it in front of a mirror that had been hanging off to the side of the television. “Come sit, Tris.”

  “Uh, right…”

  Was he going to do this in front of his mom? And why didn’t she say anything back to me? Did she not speak English? Once I’d sat down, it finally dawned upon me what a wreck I’d looked like today. The dark, wrinkled bags beneath my eyes would make even Gwen grimace. I hadn’t slept at all last night. The anti-depressants didn’t seem to be doing much as of yet either. In fact, they may have been making it even more difficult for me to fall asleep despite the fatigue I felt. And while some of it had to do with Laura, I couldn’t ignore the dark specter with the face of a deer’s skull that still loomed above me even as I sat there. Lawrence eventually returned with a large cloth bundled into his hands, a pair of scissors poking out from where his right hand was.

  “Catch.”

  “H-huh?”

  I flinched for a moment, and as the object in his other hand came hurdling towards me, my panic had caused it to slip through my grasp and fall into my lap. Apparently, his house was stocked with juice boxes for whatever reason, as he had thrown an OJ box my way.

  “What the hell, man? You gotta get better at catching.”

  “Don’t scare me, I thought you were going to throw the scissors.”

  “Wow. You really think I’d do that, huh?”

  There was something deeply disturbing about the smile on his face as he looked at me through my reflection in the mirror, and the haunting creature that had been silently following me around all day hanging above him like an angel of death. I wonder what his reaction would be if he realized that something like that was right beside him this entire time. As a matter of fact, I wonder what mine would be if I could perceive all the spirits that are probably floating about in this room right this second. At this point, I’m torn between acknowledging whether I’d be terrified or indifferent.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “Huh? Funny?” He paused, then caught himself smiling in the mirror. “Oh, I’m just imagining everyone’s face at school when they see you tomorrow.”

  “Are you going to give me a ridiculous haircut or something?”

  “No, man. Trust the process, okay? You’ll be drowning in girlfriends once I’m done with you.”

  “Uh, I think just one is fine, thanks…”

  I admired his optimism, but just how much could a good haircut change things anyhow? I let out a sigh as he flapped the large cloth over my body, tying it around my neck. He seemed to know what he was doing. Whose hair was he cutting before mine anyway?

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Hey Tris, did you get Lance and Naomi back together with that movie of yours?” he asked.

  The question sort of came out of left field. Of all the things he could have asked me, I had no idea he’d still be thinking about the time he spent last week with Naomi.

  “Partially. It was Gwen’s script, though.”

  “Right, yeah. I saw her name in the credits. You two really were good friends, huh?”

  I felt a lump forming in my throat. “I guess so.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad.”

  The snipping sound of the scissors as small locks of my hair descended onto the cloth covering my clothes fought with the sound against the verbal silence of the three of us in the room. It felt a little awkward hanging out with his mom in the room, but it didn’t seem like she was paying us any mind.

  “I’m sorry,” I said after about five to ten minutes.

  “Don’t start with that again, you little shit,” he said, smiling as he carefully snipped at my hair with an almost aristocratic diligence. “It’s all Zoey’s fault. I’m sure that we could have all done things a little better in our own way, but it doesn’t change that all the stuff that’s happened was her fault.”

  “I guess,” I said, not entirely convinced due to my own knowledge of the truth.

  “Besides, if anything you’ve done more good than harm for us, right? I heard you helped Warren and Penny get together.”

  “It was Lance, mostly.”

  “Lance, huh?” He sighed. “Naomi never really did give me even a second glance last week. She was still holding out for Lance the entire time. Just spent the entire time asking me about Zoey.”

  “I heard,” I said.

  “Then you should probably warn her.” His smile faded. “Getting involved with her is bad news. Here, tilt your head.”

  He gently nudged my head and I tilted it forward. More strands of hair fell to the floor. A few had gotten caught inside of the makeshift cloth and were tickling the lower back of my neck, but I did my best to stay cool.

  “Her avoiding Zoey at this point is wishful thinking,” I said.

  “How come?”

  “If the mall was anything to go by, then I think she’d probably end up standing up to her for me.”

  I’m not sure if Lance was entirely aware of the type of person that Zoey was yet. For all the bragging he seemed to do about knowing who people are deep down, he was dead wrong about that girl from the beginning. Naomi was the one who had sort of figured her out, and she seems to want to stand up for me for whatever reason.

  “Guess so. You kind dragged your friends into a viper pit Tris.”

  And you dragged your sister into it, I wanted to say. I wondered how Laura Young was doing. Speaking of which, he probably had no idea, did he? I decided that I would have to tell him, but it took me a while to start the conversation up again. I merely sat in the silence, anxiously doing my best to muster up the courage to open my mouth.

  “You know, speaking of Zoey…” I said finally.

  “Hm? What is it?”

  “I was there on Saturday. With Zoey and Laura.”

  As I said the words, Lawrence’s snipping suddenly stopped. Had Zoey not given him the full story? I had no idea what they spoke about when he passed me and went into the photography clubroom, so it was a shot in the dark on how he’d take it.

  “Oh yeah?” He resumed working his fingers.

  “Zoey invited me to join her on a double date with her and her boyfriend.”

  “And how’d that go?” he asked.

  “I thought her boyfriend was… well I thought he was fine at the time, but… Laura was amazing. I’m not the most sociable person. I get put off a lot by things that people do. I’m uncomfortable with being judged by them. But she had an impossibly easy-going, non-confrontational air about her despite how cold she looked. I felt at home with her, like I had known her for my entire life, like I could tell her all of my darkest secrets without fear or worry. Like…”

  “It’s done,” Lawrence said, suddenly assaulting me with hair spray.

  “Ow.”

  Did he try to nail me in the eye on purpose? I felt him brush my hair at a pace that told me that he was just about done styling my hair, then he walked off to put all his items away. I opened my eyes and looked up at the mirror.

  “Woah,” I muttered.

  He kept my bangs for the most part, but he took me away from the bowl cut and into something far more interesting. Not only had he shortened the back of my hair, but he had also shaped the tips of my bangs in front as well. I honestly hadn’t expected it to look this professional when I agreed to it, but I found myself staring back at myself in the mirror with my mouth hanging.

  “Now you see it, right? You’ve been holding yourself back.” He returned and stood behind me in the mirror with his usual smile, undoing the tie on my neck and dusting me off with a brush he’d procured. “They’ll be all over you in no time.”

  “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

  “Have some confidence man, all the good looks in the world won’t mean much if they can smell the insecurities coming off you.”

  “I don’t know how to be confident,” I said.

  Lawrence rubbed his temple and sighed. “I don’t know how to help you there, man. I feel like confidence is a trait that some people just have, and some people don’t.”

  In that case then I’m better off just hacking Zoey 24/7 if I want to muster up some of that, but I already decided that I would never hack her again. I want nothing to do with Zoey Brahm anymore. I’ve already decided that tomorrow I’ll formally resign from the photography club, and then I’ll avoid her as much as possible. If she pushes things beyond that, then I’ll deal with it when the time comes.

  “?, ??! ??? ??? ???!”

  Lawrence’s mom said something I didn’t understand with what sounded like surprise as she got up and walked over to the hallway, where she hugged none other than Laura Young, who was standing there with her suitcase in tow.

  “?? ??. ?? ??…”

  As she spoke, her words trailed off as her eyes focused onto me, and her suitcase flopped onto the floor.

  “Uh, hi,” I said.

  “Laura? What’re you…” Lawrence started, before Laura interrupted him by walking briskly in our direction, then grabbing my wrist.

  “H-huh?” I was shocked. Was the haircut that powerful? Why did she suddenly do that?

  “Can I borrow him for a second, Larry?” she asked.

  “H-huh? Oh, I mean sure, but…”

  Without waiting for his full response, she dragged me back out into the hall from where we came and then pulled me into one of the adjacent rooms. She shut the door behind us and flicked the light on. It was similar to her dorm room in that there was a holy bible at the bedside and a painting of Jesus Christ on the wall, but outside of that the place was more or less barren. It was a tiny bedroom with a closet, a clothing cabinet and a bedside table with a lamp on it. With no desk in sight, I wondered how she did any studying back when she lived here.

  “Gum?”

  “Gum?” I answered.

  I half-expected a love confession to come spilling out of her mouth, but she had instead simply offered gum as she did the last time we met.

  No.

  More specifically, she offered it to some place above me.

  Her head was tilted, her gaze was far above my own visage.

  It could have only meant one thing.

  My body froze in place.

  Now that I think about it, the spirit did say that he was formed with repeated contact.

  But then…

  Does that mean that…

  Just like Zoey, Laura can see this thing?