The Reckless Collision

Sam.

~~~

Time was slipping through my fingers. Molly would be leaving Los Angeles soon, and the weight of that truth hung heavily over us in those last few days. Nostalgia wrapped around every moment, and packing up her apartment felt like dismantling a piece of our lives together. Mason had left us alone, claiming he had some last-minute business with his agent and an evening planned with his friends. It was just Molly and me now, and I wanted to make this day special for her.

"Anything you want to do," I had told her, hoping she'd pick something fun, maybe dinner at Rao, her favorite restaurant. But as we lounged in her bedroom that morning, her plans were already taking shape.

I was sprawled across her bed, legs tucked beneath me, while she stood by the mirror near her white wardrobe, pulling a fresh outfit together.

"First, we're going to Shizu's beauty salon for hair and nails," she declared, zipping up her jeans with finality. "Then, we're heading to Rozina's Beauty Spa for facials and waxing."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. "I was thinking more along the lines of a girls' night out—with booze, preferably."

"Don't be like that," she shot back, her voice rising slightly as she pouted. "This is as much for you as it is for me."

I smirked. "Molly, I wanted to do something just for you."

She dropped onto the bed beside me, tapping my hand with her fingers. "Sam, trust me. This is for me. And it's for you too. You're meeting Ray's mom, that's a big deal."

"Don't remind me." I sighed, the thought biting at my nerves. "Do you think my family will like him?"

Molly laughed outright, the kind of laugh that could earn a person a death glare—which she did. "God, no," she said, undeterred by my look. "You knew that already, so don't glare at me. Best-case scenario, Alyssa will approve. And that's if she's still pining over that Brendon guy. Ray kind of looks like him."

I threw a pillow at her, which she expertly dodged. Once she finished dressing, we headed out.

It took twenty minutes to reach Shizu's Beauty Salon. The place was small but lively, the hum of blow dryers filling the air as a handful of clients sat in black chairs. At the front desk, a polite receptionist informed us we'd have a five-minute wait before being seen.

We were eventually guided to side-by-side chairs, the noise quieting enough for conversation. Molly immediately pulled up a photo on her phone, showing the stylist exactly what she wanted. I leaned back, my attention wandering until a woman began running her fingers through my hair.

She looked about forty, with a sharp, elegant haircut and neutral makeup that gave me instant confidence in her abilities. Her touch was gentle but firm, and I appreciated her approach, even if I wasn't planning anything drastic.

"Any ideas for your hair?" she asked, her tone warm and conversational.

"Not really." I motioned toward Molly. "She dragged me here."

The woman chuckled, stroking my hair thoughtfully. "You've got beautiful hair. Maybe a little color refresh? Something to give it life?"

I shook my head. "I'm trying to grow out the old dye—keep it natural brown."

She tilted her head, meeting my gaze in the mirror. "Oh, sweetie, that's so boring. And you strike me as anything but boring."

Her smile was infectious, and before I knew it, my plans had shifted. We agreed on a cut and color. She trimmed the ends, leaving me with a sleek long bob, then added balayage highlights that transitioned from my natural brown to a soft ash blonde. When I stood to look at myself in the mirror, I hardly recognized the carefree woman staring back.