Smartass. Apparently saving someone’s life wasn’t enough to make her open up to you. Fine. I didn’t regret going back for her; we didn’t have to be besties or anything.
“So what about you and Thom?” I finally asked Natty, and when her fingers stilled, I knew I’d thrown her for a curve.
“What about us?”
A hint of amusement shone in Willow’s eyes. “Don’t be stupid. You know what about us. Everyone saw the way he jumped in the car the second you decided to come with us. Dudes don’t do shit like that unless they’re whipped. And, girl, he’s seriously whipped.”
I’d stopped to study Natty, and her lips drew into a tight line. “I don’t know what you mean. He’s my leader. And my friend. End of story.”
Willow laugh-whooped again. “Whatever, dude. Fine, don’t tell us. But we’re not blind.”
I gave Willow a warning look. “It’s fine,” I said between clenched teeth. “She doesn’t have to tell us if she doesn’t want to.”
There was a stretched-out silence during which I wasn’t sure who was in more trouble—Willow for prodding Natty, or me for silencing Willow.
Then Natty shrugged and pasted on a phony smile. She stripped off her gloves and tossed them in the overflowing trash can. “Now you do me,” she said, effectively ending the whole are-they-or-aren’t-they conversation.
As I got up, I grinned an I told you so grin at Willow.
Catching a glimpse of myself in the grimy bathroom mirror, with my too-giant eyes staring back at me, I sort of looked like one of those characters from a Japanese manga. My head was slicked over with the sludgy-looking gunk that would eventually turn my dishwater-blond hair a deep shade of brown. My disguise would be way better than Willow’s.
I checked the time on the wall clock as I started following Natty’s instructions. I didn’t want to lose track of how long I kept this stuff on my head because already my scalp was tingling.
Simon was leaning against the wall when I came outside again exactly thirty-seven minutes later. Willow had given up waiting for her hair to process and had rinsed it too soon, leaving it with the kind of coppery sheen that was nothing at all like Mandy Maxwell’s. She’d also given up on letting Thom drive, mostly because, in her words, he “drove like a blind grandmother.” She was in the SUV now, waiting impatiently for us as she thumped her fingers against the steering wheel.
Inside the bathroom, Natty was still crouched beneath the electric hand dryer, trying to dry her newly ebony hair. I was surprised by how not dramatic the look ended up being on her, as if she’d been born for the color instead of being washed out by it. Something about the contrast of black hair against her ultra-pale skin gave her the flawless complexion of a china doll. And even her eyes, which were already striking, seemed less hazel and more the color of golden honey now that her mousy locks shone like glossy ink.
“That was longer than half an hour.” Simon flashed me a smug look from beneath the flat brim of the brand-new trucker’s hat he was sporting. As if I wasn’t totally aware of the time. He pushed away from the wall. “Here. Jett got you these.” He held out a plastic bag.
Inside were powdered doughnuts, one of the few things that sorta tasted the same since I’d been returned. Probably because they were coated in a thick layer of pure sugar.
Somehow it was even better that Jett remembered I liked the mini-sized ones.
I was looking around, meaning to thank Jett, when Simon surprised me by taking a strand of my hair between his fingers. “I like it. It’s . . .”
“Dark,” I finished, and self-consciously brushed his hand away.
Unlike Natty, it had been weird looking back at the brunette in the mirror. It was like seeing a stranger, almost like when I’d first come home after my disappearance and I’d scoured every inch of myself for signs I’d changed. This time I most definitely had.
Except, I wasn’t gonna lie, I didn’t hate it. My hair had always been so . . . so plain. Boring even. Cat was the one with the cool hair—super blond and fierce. Mine was just . . . there.
But now . . . now it sort of popped. It was brown like on the box, but in real life, in person, it was more vibrant—it had this cool undertone of red or auburn that made it shimmer like bronze. Or fire. And sure, my freckles stood out a little more, but not in a bad way.
I was like Natty—a bolder version of myself.
I would probably spend as much time looking in the mirror over the next few days as I did checking the time.
“It’s a good look on you. It’ll make getting to Blackwater a whole heckuva lot easier.” Only the way his eyes stayed fastened on mine, never actually straying to my hair at all, made my stomach flutter nervously.
I lifted my chin, hoping to deflect some of his unwanted attention. Hoping to fluster him for once. “I’ve been thinking—why Silent Creek? Why’d we go to Thom if there are other camps out there?”
Mission accomplished, I thought, relishing the way Simon blinked and then sputtered, “Kyra, this really isn’t the time. Don’t you think we have enough to deal with right now?”
I shrugged one of Simon’s no biggie shrugs. Seemed like the perfect time to me. “If we’re really in this together, then we shouldn’t have all these secrets.” I challenged him with my eyebrows. “Anyone can see you two have some kind of history. And whatever happened between you, it was obviously crappy. So, why take us there in the first place?”