The Bucket List

Chapter Three: Not What I Chose

I sat down in the corner of subway and pulled out my text book. Levi was ordering. I was working on the same question from study hall.

"Just let me help you with that question," Levi said, sitting across from me.

"I don't need your help," I replied.

"You will. One day you're going to need my help and I'm not going to be here," he teased.

"Whatever. How did you know my name?" I asked, not looking up from my paper.

"What are you talking about?"

"You asked my name in the hall this morning and I never told you but you used it anyways," I said.

"Everybody knows you. I just wanted to spark a conversation," he replied.

"The only friend I have is Addy. Nobody knows me," I said.

"You're mom was the high wire artist, right?" He asked.

"How did you know?" My hands were starting to sweat again. I don't talk about my mom, especially with strangers.

"Everybody talks about you. They say you were once all that but when your mom passed you changed," he explained.

Middle school was my place. I was popular and everybody knew me. I didn't go through the phase with the blue eyeshadow and date every guy in my class. I guess I never realized it until my mom passed and I shut everybody out.

"My mom was my rock. I don't know what to do anymore. I float through the days just waiting for the next one to come," I said. I couldn't help myself but I felt like Levi cared on some level. He listened to me.

"Well, now you have something to look forward to. This bucket list will spice up your life, add some pazzaz. I was reading it and the one where you have to take a picture every day? I'm changing it to take a selfie every day. I think you'll be amazed by how much we change," he explained. He put the second half of his sub into the bag.

"Selfies?" I complained.

"Yes! Now pack up, we have a hair appointment," he said.

*********

Levi had his hand hovering behind my lower back. He pushed open the door leading to the hair dresser. There was nobody else getting their hair cut.

"I need time to decide what color I want," I said.

"Don't worry about that. I've got it figured out," he said, smiling down at me.

I'm not short but I'm not tall either. I'm a comfortable 5"5' and Levi is at least 6 feet. The top of my head just reaches his chest.

"Levi, I don't know how I feel about this," I said. My hair is past my shoulders and it has a little bit of wave. I've never loved the color of my hair, it's like a Hershey Bar brown. I'm comfortable changing it to a normal color but not something ridiculous.

"It's on your list, it needs to be done. And you won't step out of your comfort zone if you pick it yourself. I'm picking," he declared.

************

I had a grumpy, pregnant girl doing my hair. She didn't want to talk and she complained about teenagers expressing themselves.

But I'm not doing that. I'm being forced against my will. I couldn't tell what color she was putting in my hair. Levi made strict instructions on how this ha to be done.

I wasn't facing the mirror. I wasn't allowed to turn around. I wasn't allowed to ask what color it was. I wasn't allowed to peek.

Kaylee, my hair professional, was done washing out my hair and was now drying it. My stomach started out nervous but now it was beyond controllable.