The Awakening by K. E. Ganshert Read Free Book Online Page A

of amusement and self-deprecation.
    Our eyes meet in the mirror’s reflection. One corner of his mouth curves up. “I have a thing for brunettes, by the way.”
    I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Just how much would Summer and Jennalee mourn that statement? Once my hair is soaked in goo all over again, I don the second plastic cap and pick up the clippers from the vanity. “I’m assuming these aren’t for me.”
    “Not unless you want a buzz cut.” Luka is still standing behind me, and the vibration of his voice tickles my ear. It makes me think of the warning on most side view mirrors— objects are closer than they appear . “It’s only a matter of time before I’m on the news too. Might as well disguise myself now. You ready to be the hair stylist?”
    I’ve watched my mom give my dad haircuts with our clippers at home. This might be something I can actually do. “I think I can handle that.”
    I stand. Luka sits.
    “Just an all-around buzz?”
    “Sounds good.”
    It’s not a very flattering hairstyle. The lack of hair has a way of exacerbating every flaw. Even Pete, loved and adored by the girls, got a buzz cut in seventh grade and his nose went from endearingly crooked to distractingly crooked.
    Maybe this will be good. Maybe a buzz cut on Luka will even the playing field a little.
    I set the clippers to the lowest setting, let out a shaky breath, and get to work. The second I run my fingers through his hair, my body grows warm and fluttery. Neither of us speak. By the time I’m done and everything is even and his scalp feels like prickly stubble and my feet are surrounded by tufts of thick, dark hair, the room is so charged I have to take a quick step back just to catch my breath.
    He shakes off the towel and brushes hair from his neck. “How does it look?”
    “Um …”
    “Uh-oh. It’s that bad?” He stands from the chair, sets his hands on the vanity, and leans closer to his reflection. He puts on his pair of black-rimmed glasses. In his well-fitting dark denim jeans and his white undershirt, he looks … incredibly sexy. There are no other words for it. The only thing the buzz cut has exacerbated is his perfection. He turns around and nods toward the clock. “Your twenty minutes is up.”
    I grab my backpack and close myself inside the bathroom. I shower down, lathering and rinsing my hair. I dry off and dress quickly in a pair of jeans and my orange Crush t-shirt. I wipe the fog off the mirror and stare at myself. The color is so much lighter than I’m used to. I don’t look like me, and for the world I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.
    “You gonna come out of there?” Luka calls.
    No, actually, I’d rather not. But since I can’t hide in here forever … I take a deep breath and slowly step outside.
    Luka wolf-whistles.
    I blush.
    “Ready for a cut?” he asks, wielding the scissors.
    As much as I’d like to say no, I’ve had enough change for one day, thank you very much , the scissors are unavoidable. The more different I can look from the picture flashing about on TV, the better. I gather my hair into a long, wet ponytail at the nape of my neck and squeeze my eyes tight. Luka holds my hair in his palm and makes several slices right below the ponytail holder. When the slicing ceases, he holds up the ponytail no longer attached to my head. I take out the hair band and give my head a shake. The picture on the television screen showed a girl with long, dark hair. The girl in the mirror has chin length light brown hair. She is practically unrecognizable.
    Luka tips his chin closer to my ear. “Mission accomplished.”

Chapter Seven
    Goodbye
    W e eat bananas and beef jerky for lunch and spend the day pacing, speculating, studying the files, and fidgeting with the TV antenna. We’ve found a couple news stations, but the reception is so fuzzy we can barely make anything out.
    One station airs a rerun of President Abigail Cormack’s victory speech after