Chapter 29
“What the fuck, Lina?!”
Pauly presses an icepack to my face while Jeremiah works the zipper down my back. I hiss when the fabric drags over my ribs. I’m praying they’re just bruised, not broken.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Pauly growls.
“You should see the other guy,” I mutter.
Jeremiah pauses. “Seriously?”
I was trying to sound cavalier. Apparently it didn’t land.
“It was a date,” I sigh. “A bad one. He got a couple hits in before I remembered I know self-defense.”
Ugh. Who even does that? Who just starts hitting their date?! I really know how to pick ‘em.
“You remembered fast enough to not be dead,” Pauly snaps. “Doesn’t mean this is okay.”
He’s right. I know he is. But I also don’t want him going off the rails.
I rest my hand on his forearm. He’s tense, solid, thrumming with anger.
“I’m fine,” I say gently.
“You’re not fine!” he fires back. “Jesus, Lina. You’re in Atlanta. Surrounded by criminals. You can’t keep pretending it’s the suburbs.”
I exhale slowly. The icepack stings against my skin. “I handled it.”
“That’s not good enough.” He softens his tone, but not by much. “I love you. But your innocence shines like a damn lighthouse. You draw in sharks.”
“I’m not innocent,” I snap before I can stop myself.
“I know you’re not. But you look like you are.” He sighs. “And that’s the problem.”
Jeremiah straightens, fingers light but careful as he helps me into pajamas. “It’s time for an upgrade.”
“An upgrade?” I repeat, feeling slow.
“A makeover!” he crows, clapping like he just won a prize.
“Oh God.”
“Oh yes!” he beams. “Tomorrow. Our treat.”
Pauly nods. “We’re gonna scrub that good-girl glow right off you.”
“I do not have a good-girl glow,” I grumble.
They both laugh. Jeremiah kisses the top of my head. “You’ll thank us later.”
He tilts his head. “You in?”
My ribs ache. My face is a mess. And honestly? I’m tired of being seen as soft. “Yes.”
“Perfect! Be ready at ten. We’re having a girls’ day, bitch!”
∞∞∞
I wake up to a black eye and stiff ribs, but nothing’s broken. I’m lucky, all things considered. Give it a week and I’ll look human again. Maybe.
Jeremiah knocks at ten sharp. “Yikes,” he says when I open the door.
“Wow,” I deadpan. “Keep the compliments coming.”
He grins. “Just means we’ve got our work cut out for us.”
We drive through the city, away from our side of town. The buildings get cleaner. Sleeker. The people on the sidewalks wear sunglasses that cost more than my rent.
“You’re sure this is okay?” I ask. “You don’t have to—”
“We want to,” he interrupts. “You’ve had a hell of a week. Let us fix you up.”
I nod, watching the blur of traffic slide past the window. Letting the hum of the road settle something in me.
Fifteen minutes later, the salon is all glass and chrome and smells like eucalyptus and money. I glance down at my flip-flops and jeans, suddenly self-conscious. Jeremiah notices.
“You look fine,” he says, squeezing my hand. “They’ll see the potential. And if not, they’ll see my wallet.”
I snort.
∞∞∞
Later, when it’s done, Pauly leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, studying me.
“You don’t look like a Lina anymore.”
“She looks badass,” Jeremiah beams. “Now we just need to match the attitude.”
I roll my eyes, but something about his words stick.
The old Lina smiled too easily, said sorry too much, took up less space on purpose... and what did that get her? Used. Hurt. Dismissed.
Maybe it’s time to let her go. To become someone else. Someone fierce. Someone who speaks up. Who goes after what she wants because she knows she’s worth it.
I think of Axel. Of all those Gossip Girl marathons, the two of us laughing in the dark.
W.W.B.W.D.? What would Blair Waldorf do?
She wouldn’t flinch, that’s for sure. She wouldn’t apologize for taking up space.
Maybe it’s time I stop apologizing, too.
I turn to the mirror and roll my shoulders back. My hair’s darker now, cut to my shoulders.
My reflection holds her chin up, instinctively. I look harder. More confident. Braver.
“I’m not Lina anymore,” I say, voice low but sure.
“I’m Aro now.”