Just a Hair Stylist - Chris Evans story \\✔️

Chapter twenty-four

This was some bullshit. All you wanted to do was have a little fun with your friends, get Archie

some fresh air and exercise, and for you to get some time in with your board. Okay. So, fair

enough, you got all of that. But standing in the parking lot of Venice beach, you got a little more

than you were planning.

With Archie and your surfboard tucked up in the Jeep, you were at the passenger side of your car,

peeling off your wetsuit. Late February is hardly the time of year to be in the Pacific without one.

You had just pulled the suit's leg off and set your bare foot down, when you felt a stabbing pain

and yelled a powerful profanity, falling to lean into the side of your Jeep. Looking down, you

realized late February is also apparently a good time of year for assholes to leave broken bottles in

parking lots.

You hadn't seen the debris peeking out from just behind the front tire of your passenger side.

Somehow, you'd managed to avoid it earlier by putting Archie in the back door. Your mistake was

moving forward to use your mirror to steady yourself while you changed. Next time, just sit on the

bumper, dumbass.

A quick look down at the spot of red developing on the pavement under your picked up foot said

the rest of your day was shot. A better look at the underside of your upturned foot and you knew

this was a job for more than a Band-Aid. Hopping around for a second, you opened the car door

and perched yourself on the edge of your seat. Cursing at the pain the entire time, you grabbed

your long sleeve tee you'd planned on using as a cover-up for your swimsuit top and wrapped it

around your wound.

Safe from the pavement below, you finished tugging off your wetsuit and tossed it onto the floor of

the backseat to pull on a pair of shorts. You clamored over the console and slid behind the wheel.

You reached over to pull the door shut and started the engine. Your phone pointed you in the

direction of the nearest hospital and you were on your way, swearing and wincing as you worked

the clutch with the side of your injured foot.

The roof was open to accommodate your board, so you knew Archie would be comfortable to wait

for a little bit. You limped and hopped into the emergency room to sign yourself in. It was about

twenty minutes before they called you back. You spent the time with your left foot crossed over

your knee, mourning the loss of one of your favorite t-shirts after this little fiasco and hoping you

didn't bleed everywhere.

Your nurse gave you a blanket to wrap around yourself, to keep warm in the chilly hospital. You let

her throw away your recently re-dyed shirt for you. Your foot was numbed and cleaned up and

they took some x-rays. The doctor ended up removing a curved piece of green glass from the sole

of your foot that was a little smaller than the size of a quarter. The doctor still examining the gouge