How Could I Not Tear You Apart

Chapter Eight

This story is so much fun to write i am enjoying myself with it :) i have a big crush on maddie

ty for reading 

love u

Chapter Eight

Something between Maddie and I has changed. The thick barriers I worked so hard to build up have been dented. They haven't successfully fallen, but I'm trying to damn hard to keep them up. I don't know why she genuinely wants to talk to me, and a part of me is scared she only wants to because she knows I don't eat much, and because she saw my arm of bruises.

I don't think I want her to get to know me. I don't think I want to be friends with her. I don't trust her, simply because, I feel like she tries too hard to pry into my personal life, and yet offers nothing of her own.

I quickly put on my coat, keeping my eye on the time. Today is actually thanksgiving, and though the salon is closed, and I should be off, I had received a text from Iris, my most difficult client, if I could come in and wash her hair today.

I didn't know how to say no, so I said sure.

She said she'd be there at 8:00 a.m., which is the usual time she comes, but it's already almost 7:30 a.m., and I have to get there before she does.

I open the front door, bracing myself for having to run, when I nearly collide right into Maddie.

I stare at her wide-eyed, while she looks just as surprised as I do. And then I see the small snow flakes on her hair, and I look behind her to see at least three inches of snow on the ground, and it's still falling.

Panic seizes me when I realize I have to somehow beat Iris to the salon before 8:00 whilst running in the slick snow.

"Shit." I don't mean to say out loud, but it's the first thing that comes to mind when my eyes meet the snow.

"It's fucking early, and the roads are ice. You probably should rethink driving to wherever you're going right now. It's ugly." Maddie says as she walks into the apartment, she doesn't move out of my way, forcing me to back inside with her. If I didn't know any better, I would think she didn't move on purpose, like she was trying to keep me home.

I shake my head, "I have to go into work."

She frowns, "Work? Why do you have to work on Thanksgiving?"

"I'll only be gone for an hour." And then I add, "You work tonight." I tell her as if that makes it better. 

"Yeah, I'm a medical worker, the hospital is one of  the only things open on a major holiday. Also an hour? Why would you be called into work for only an hour, who calls someone in on Thanksgiving day for an hour? What do you even do? Where do you work?"

She doesn't know I'm a stylist. Somehow, almost a month of living together, and she has no idea what I do for a living. 

For some strange reason, I don't want to tell her. 

I've experienced it several times before. The interest someone has when they ask you what you do, only for their expectations to fall when you say 'hairstylist'.  People who don't know what they're talking about, or who don't know anything about the industry have no idea how difficult it is being a hairstylist. They all assume you're just 'playing with hair'. I've even been told that cosmetology isn't a valid profession.

It's just another thing, out of all the important things in my life, I prefer to keep quiet about.

"I'm sorry, Maddie, but I really have to go."

I try to step around her, but she once again, side-steps in front of me, blocking my exit, "Seriously, the roads are dangerous."

"I'll be fine." I'm not driving anyway. Not that she will know that.