“I’ve… um… never had a pedicure,” Jaeb admitted, scratching her head and ruffling her orange hair further. “What do I do?”
“Well first you pick a color,” I motioned to the shelves of nail polishes. “Any color you want.”
“Really?” She asked. “Any one?”
“Yeah. You don’t get to keep it, but your toes will be that color.”
“Toes?” Jaeb blinked at me curiously.
“A pedicure is toes. A manicure is fingers. I figured that with those shoes, your feet must be freezing. The pedicure will warm them up, get the blood flowing.” I nodded at her ratty sneakers, and she nodded shyly. It was strange to see her this way, shy instead of sly. Nervous instead of nasty. “Pick a color.”
Jaeb studied the wall closely. I saw her looking between a dark purple and a pale green, and pointed at the green. “That’ll suit you really well.”
“Really?” She sounded surprised. Surprised at what? I don’t know. Maybe surprised that anything would suit her. Maybe she was surprised that I would know what would look good. Maybe Jaeb was surprised that I would tell her what would look good with her hair, and her skin.
“Definitely. I can’t do greens, but blues and reds work for me. The green would look really pretty with your hair and your eyes.” Jaeb reached up to touch her hair self consciously.
“Alright,” she looked down and followed me to the chairs. I waited until she was sitting, and then turned on the massage function of her chair. She jumped and stared at me. I had to laugh.
“Relax, Jaeb,” I told her. “It’s a massage chair. You can play around with the remote. See what feels good.”
“Why are you doing this?” Jaeb demanded. “Why are you being so nice to me after I’ve been so horrible to you?”
Should I tell her?
“Honestly?” I shrugged. “I have no idea.” A tiny asian woman sat down by my feet. I smiled at her and continued talking with Jaeb as she pulled and rubbed and clipped at my calluses and cuticles. “I mean, my only other girl friend who knows about all this… freakishness is slightly insane. I don’t want to hate you. I’d like to get to know you, if you don’t mind.”
“So this isn’t a trap?” She narrowed her eyes at me, ignoring the woman who rubbed at her own feet. I saw her eyes flutter and roll back slightly, and withheld my grin.
No one could resist a pedicure.
“Please, Jaeb,” I scoffed. “I’m not smart enough to plan a trap as elaborate as this. I just…” I sighed, glaring off at the wall. “I want to give you another chance, for Simon’s sake.”
“Simon?” Jaeb cocked her head. “What does this have to do with Si-AHAHAHAHA!” Jaeb jerked her feet back and stared, wide-eyed, at the woman who had the pumice stone in hand. She grinned.
“You ticklish,” she laughed, and leaned forward to take Jaeb’s foot again. I laughed.
“It’s okay,” I put a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t flinch. “Some people are ticklish. Try and bear it. It gets better in a minute.” Jaeb nodded and bit her lip.
“As to what this,” I waved my hand around, motioning to the store, “has to do with Simon,” I sighed and shook my head. “We’re dating.”
“Seriously?” She whispered, sounding shocked. “We thought he was kidding,”
“He told you? I thought we agreed not to tell anybody.” My cheeks grew warm with even more anger.
“I tortured him until he told us,” she shrugged. “We figured something was up after that last fight.”
“Can you even call it a fight?” I snickered, anger forgotten. Jaeb laughed with me, and the last barrier between us fell away.
We bonded over stories of Simon and life in general. Jaeb told me about growing up on the streets and I told her about my parents and their neglect. We laughed, and sighed in bliss as our pedicurists rubbed our feet and calves. Jaeb touched her calf and smelled her hand, before grinning and saying that she had never smelled so good before.
“Do you want your hair cut?” I asked her as we walked out. Paying with my parents money made me grin. Bastards forgot about me, so they would forget about the forty dollars I had just spent as well.
“I… guess so…” Jaeb looked uncomfortable and rubbed her head again. “Last time Simon had to cut it and he used his telekinesis and it sucks.”
“I like it,” I told her, hooking my arm through hers. “We’ll get your haircut, and then we’ll stop by my house. I have some clothes that my grandmother gave to me. They were a little small, and a lot of green, and I can’t wear any of them. So they’re yours if you want them.”
“Seriously?” Jaeb demanded incredulously. I grinned.
“Seriously.”
And then Jaeb beamed, showing all her teeth.
“You know what, Jaeb?” I tilted my head. “You would be really, really pretty if you smiled just a bit more often.”
And this only made her smile wider.
YOU ARE READING
The Perks of Being a Freak (Editing)
Teen FictionI am not special. I am not extraordinary or unique. Everyone in the world faces hardships. Everyone suffers, at one point or another. I am not unusual. Neglect is common. Abuse, unfortunately, is common. Poverty is common. Five different people, fiv...