After that incident, it started happening often , in the hotel, in the old lady’s office, in some mansion, and one time in public. For a month I have been there, in the hallway standing by the door. Hearing them fondling over each other, I stay quiet the whole time. The lady clearly wasn’t happy with me being there, she always glared at me when she walked out of the room after finishing. Then he would tell me to go home. It was embarrassing to look him in the eyes, or to be in the same room with him. It felt like he was torturing me with making me listen to them.

One interesting day came, I had to go to this hotel that he was staying at for awhile. Clover was there confused on why he hasn’t come out of the bathroom.

“He has been in there for hours.” She sighed, “I tried asking him what he was doing, but he yelled to me to be quiet.”

“Well he could be shaving.” I said.

“Maybe, he’s probably getting every inch, including crevices.” She wished me good luck giving me the keys and went on her way.

I stood alone in that room waiting for him to get out of the bathroom, but time flied and nothing, no turn of the knob, or sound of the shower. For awhile I thought he was dead, until-

“Quinn.” Finally a sound came out of the room.

I walked towards the door, “Yes, is everything alright.”

“Can you come in here please.”

I was surprised, he never said please or a thank you and it sounded like he was crying. I slowly opened the door to see him on the bathroom floor. His hair was dark purple and drenched, his hand cover in black and his shirt stained. I almost laughed.

“Hey, uh.” He said trying to get up, rubbing his face to hide the tears.

I rushed towards him, kneeled down and grabbed his hands. “Don’t touch your eyes.” I was face to face with him, my cheeks started to heat up. We stayed in this position for a few minutes, until he looked away.

“Uh can you run to the store and get me a dye that is the color of my natural hair?” Pulling his hands away from me.

“Yeah.” I said quietly standing up and brushing off my pants.

He gave me his card and gestured me out.

It took me a while to come back from the store, I came through the door, he was already sitting on the bed with his arms crossed. He was staring out the window with no shirt on, wearing brown silk pants, and his hair draid and light purple now. As he heard the door shut closed he turned to me.

“I got two boxes just in case and a peach cake roll.” I said opening up the plastic bag.

“I’m on a diet.” He got up and snatched the bag from me.

“Oh” I pouted.

He ingored me and walked into the bathroom. I stood there in place awardly.

“Are you going to help or not?” He shouted.

I rushed in there confused, “I didn’t know you wanted my help.”

He looked down and handed me one of the boxes. I grabbed it and started to open it. I ruffled in my pocket to get my phone.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Texting Clover.” I answered.

He reached out his hand to grab my phone, “Why?”

I dodge him and sent the texts, “I bet she has some experience with her mint green hair. And plus I don’t want the one up stairs mad at me if I do something wrong.”

His expression changed from concern to embarrassed, he knew who I was talking about and he seemed not pleased. Silent clouded the room, but the sound dripping from the faucet.

“Sorry about that,” he looked down.

At that moment I wanted to yell at him, say that he was crazy, scream in his ears to tell him what he did was disturbing, and straight up gross. Then I remembered what I did to him on the bus, he probably had thought the same thing back then. I looked away from him and ruffled through the box.

“I know it wasn’t right to force you to stay and my excuse is childish-“

“What was it.” Our eyes met.

“You wouldn’t talk to me.”

“You f*ckin baby” I mumbled under my breath, but he clearly heard me because he chuckled, and I smiled a little.

“Really I am.” He looked me in the eye, “Sorry.”

My heart skipped a beat that I couldn’t speak. A ding came from my phone, “It’s Clover.”

“When did you guess become friends?” He frowned.

“When did you start your diet?”

He laughed, he grabbed his stomach, “When this started to form.”

I looked up and down and then back at my phone to read her text. I walked back and forth trying to texts her back.

As he glaneced into the bag again.“How do you know I like peach cake roll?”

“You told me.”

He pause confused and then lit up, “Ooh that was such a long time ago, and you remembered that. Wait I think I remember yours it’s those pink marshmallow fluff coconut things.” He hand gestured the size.

“Marinela Sponch?”

“Yes!”

“No”

“Oh, really.” He squinted.

“That was your favorite when I brought Mexican candy for you to try.”

“Right, right, don’t tell me I want to remember your favorite food on my own.” He rubbed the top of his head to remember.

As Clover gave me instructions on how to dye his hair, we continued to talk. We didn’t talk about deep stuff like our tragicties like on why I carry a cane around, or how he got into this situation with his hair or the old lady. We mostly talked about little things, like things that we started to watch and why Pluto is a planet again. We talked for hours while I did his hair, he looked up at me while I looked down on him. His hair was soft, and fluffy, like fresh moss. As I rinsed his hair in the sink he smelled like cherry and vanilla, made me think about the bus. He would always sit so close to me that I can smell him on the spot when he was not looking.

He lifted his head back, splashing water all over the place, and leaned over to the mirror, “Little bit darker than my natural hair, but I don’t think anyone is going to notice.” He looked back at me. “What’s wrong?”

I was spaced out, “Nothing.”

I gave him a tower and walked out. I sat down on the bed and looked back at him, he was looking at me while ruffling the tower in his hair, and then looked back at the mirror. I looked away staring at my feet, my heart racing, my mind blank but one thing, a thought repeating over and over again. ‘What’s happening?’