Chapter 5

• I've been working two weeks in a row without a day off. I dream about the beauty salon at night, and the smell of coffee coming out of the old coffee maker in the break room makes me sick. But I'm willing to live at work as long as I don't have to think about anything, as long as I don't have free time for empty conversations with my friends, entertainment, or trips to see my father in Lancaster. Every time I break up with someone, I dive headfirst into work. And my boss loves it. Once, when someone quit without warning, he even asked me about the relationship, as if to hint at how quickly I'd break up and could plow like a damn horse. I was ready to punch him or quit, but he apologized in time and never asked tactless questions again. When I asked for extra shifts two weeks ago, he understood and smiled, but I didn't care.
• The salon is open from ten in the morning until late at night. I started as a receptionist, but then I took a course in cosmetology, and now I can do various beauty injections, massages, masks, and anything else on the price list. I have my own office, clean and cozy, in white tones, so that clients do not associate it with the sterile tents of private clinics. On the windowsill are artificial flowers, on the wall is a painted certificate, on the table is a photo with girlfriends. Invisible in the picture is my brother, who took it when we were partying wildly and he promised to take us home. That was so long ago, we've been so busy since then.
• After high school, I went to college twice but dropped out, then there were nursing courses and attempts at freelance work. Bloggers promised me millions in my pocket and lots of free time, but I never learned all the secrets of working remotely. Only cosmetology courses were possible, but I think I found exactly what I like. I make women beautiful, which means I make them happy. Isn't that the secret of simple happiness in life? I wish I could find that happiness for myself.
• The money is good here, and there are always plenty of clients. But it is impossible to work in the "my boyfriend dumped me and I want to forget myself" mode for long, so after two or three weeks, a cold takes over and puts my life on hold. My friends-neighbors, my boss, and my co-workers know this. So, no one was surprised when I didn't show up for work. In the morning, the thermometer read 38.7, my head was pounding, and my body ached. I'll feel better in a few days, then Veronica and Katrine and I will have a little party and everything will be back to normal. Work, soap operas at night or bowling on Wednesdays, the occasional club on Fridays when we were all free, and a trip to Lancaster every two or three weeks. There would be endless conversations about my grandmother's health, my father's alcoholism, my aunt's health, my mother's health. There would be endless conversations about my grandmother's health, my father's alcoholism, my aunt's arthritis that no doctor had confirmed. There would still be walks in the park, mahjong with Grandma, TV before bed, and awkward questions about marriage.
• My mother rarely calls, and the last time we saw each other was five years ago. My father works odd jobs, drinks and lives with my mother. His aunt, his sister, moved there to take care of her elderly mother. As a result, the life of these three people is an endless scandal and fight, when I arrive, the father tries to hold on, but not always.
• Every time I go home, it just causes me stress and pain, so I go back to the city and go to the bar again, meet another bad boy, have an affair with him, think he'll change, that we have true love. And the cycle starts all over again. And even though I know all this, I can't change anything, as if my life doesn't belong to me.
• I can smell Katrine cooking hot chicken soup. She is very caring and gentle, one look at her is enough to see her kindness. Her voluptuous figure is colored, she moves smoothly, as if she were gliding and dancing. Her blonde hair is curly and her blue eyes are sparkling. She works as a nurse at the local hospital, so she is rarely home, but when she is, everything around her is filled with comfort and warmth. She makes delicious pies, hot chocolate, and lasagna, puts on Frank Sinatra or Bob Dylan, and watches old black-and-white movies. We met in nursing school, but she graduated and I dropped out. Neither of us regrets the way things turned out.
• Unlike Katrine, Veronica is pure evil. She and I became friends in college, and we dropped out together, rented an apartment, and started working in a nightclub as waitresses. When I saved up enough money, I went to nursing school. We didn't have enough money for rent, so we called Katrine. And so, we've been together for three years, in sickness and in health, for better and for worse. They're my family.
• "I'm already late," Katrine put the soup on the bedside table, "I have a shift, and then I'm spending the night at Jacob's, and then I have another shift. So don't wait until three days from now."
• "Thank you."
• "And when I come back, we'll have a party."
• Yes, the one that starts a new cycle.
• "I will," I said, smiling, thinking about what it would be like to break the routine this time. To do something I've never done before, to do something new. I have a few days to come up with a good plan.
• Three days later, instead of a party, I'm flying to Hawaii. It was my childhood dream after the Lilo and Stitch cartoon, surfing movies, and Elvis Presley songs played at the Aloha from Hawaii concert in Honolulu. It's the perfect place to be alone with myself, calm my nerves, and learn how to be happy. That's all I need.
• The week-long vacation flew by without a hitch. Apart from some light flirting, I had no love affairs, which is exactly what I had hoped for. No need for new drama. I learned to surf, hiked, screamed on the beach, visited many museums, and came back full of energy, confident that my life would now be calm and stable. How wrong I was.
• And if you think I was attacked by Richard, or fired from my job, or my grandmother got cancer? None of those things happened; life is much more mundane. How much a person is affected by his surroundings. I went back to my old room, to my friends and colleagues, to the same conversations, to the same bars and places. And my thoughts were the same; everything new was blown away by the last Hawaiian wind. It was worth it to stay on the island, to find a job, new friends, and a cozy place to change my life dramatically. The update reset, and I went back to the old version, which was full of bugs and errors. That's when I ran into Owen and Aaron again. It was at the Sherry Bar they mentioned.
• I went there three times after my vacation, alone or with my friends, hoping to catch them there. It was as if my feet led me there. Each time I went back, my hope of seeing them diminished. The fourth time I passed by, I was carrying my clothes to the laundry. Katrine has no time for housework; if I have free time, I can't refuse her a favor. The simple route to the laundromat and back didn't require me to go anywhere, so I wore jeans shorts, a simple T-shirt, and carried my cell phone in my hand. I never cut my hair, and it was the right decision; it was too beautiful to part with because of some idiot. Today I hastily pulled it back into a bun because I didn't think I'd meet him today.
• It was still daylight, the time when people came into the bar after work. The sign that glowed with blue neon lights at night was off, and there were three cars in the parking lot. One of them looked familiar - a silver sedan. If I had a good memory for numbers, or was more responsible about getting into cars with men I didn't know well, I would have memorized the license plate. And now I could tell for sure if the car belonged to them or not. Now all I had to do was go into the bar and check it out.
• The music was playing softly, the tables were empty, and there was no tobacco smoke in the air. I immediately saw Owen and Aaron in the far corner. They were talking about something; their faces were serious. I should have acted more naturally, walked up to the bar, ordered a beer, chatted with the bartender, and then casually turned around and yelled, "You guys are here!" Instead, I froze like a stumbling block and stood there for a good five or ten seconds, staring for an obscene amount of time. When Owen looked up and smiled at me, I turned around, ready to run.
• "Olivia," came Owen's voice. So sweet, I want him to say my name again.
• You're the one who wanted it! I turn around and smile:
• "Guys, you're here!"
• I come closer, the small round table seats two, there's no third chair. Yes, and I don't want to impose.
• "Nice to meet you, how are you?"
• A pointless question, I answer just as pointlessly out of politeness and smile.
• "Are you expecting someone? I thought you were looking for someone at the bar."
• "Yes, I'm lying. - A friend, I mean a neighbor, we were supposed to meet, but she's not here yet. So, I decided to go out and call her, but maybe she'll be here soon."
• "Then sit down and we'll wait together."
• "I don't want to get in your way."
• "Come on, it's okay, keep us company."
• I nod reluctantly, but in my heart I'm glad to be able to spend another evening with them. The waiter brings a beer and we toast the meeting. They're both wearing dark t-shirts that show off their tattoos, Owen has his hair slicked back as usual, Aaron sits closer to me and I can smell the shaving lotion. There's no awkwardness between us, like we're old friends. I love that about them, they know how to keep their distance but at the same time they can come into your life and turn it upside down. They ask me what I've been doing for the last three weeks, and I honestly tell them I've been on vacation.
• "With girlfriends?" - Aaron clarifies.
• "No one alone," and by the skeptical look on their faces, I had to clarify. "After the breakup, I needed time to heal. You know, just to be alone, to get my thoughts in order."
• "Have an affair," Aaron interrupts and continues for me.
• We laugh and now it's getting awkward.
• "Three, actually," I lie and go all out. Owen raises an eyebrow, they're surprised, but there's no mockery in their smiles. They're walking sex machines themselves, there's nothing wrong with a woman liking sex. In fact, I'm ashamed to say that I've never had anyone after them. "But that's all in the past, I'm back and fully immersed in my work."
• "What do you do?"
• "I'm a cosmetologist, right?" I shouldn't have thought there was no awkwardness between us; after that question, there was. They obviously didn't want to answer, Aaron looked away and Owen sipped his beer and pressed his lips together.
• "We have a dangerous job and we'd rather not spread the word."
• They are killers, my brain draws its own conclusion and suggests that we get out of here.
• "You think we're killers again?" - Aaron reads my mind, and he can tell by the look on my face that's exactly what I've been thinking. He throws his head back and laughs out loud.
• "Seriously, she thought we were killers?"
• "Yeah, buddy." I roll my eyes, there's nothing funny about it.
• "I don't think it would be a big deal if we told her?" - Owen turns to his friend, and I can see the two of them having a silent dialogue, as if they had a telepathic connection. Finally, Aaron seems to give up and takes a big gulp of beer. "We're private investigators."
• Only that? And was it worth the intrigue? I shrug, but before I can ask the question, Aaron answers it.
• "The fewer people who know, the easier it is for us to do our job. What if someone orders a stakeout and you already know who we are?"
• "Makes sense."
• We talk about nothing for a while. I don't bring up work anymore, I hope they're telling the truth. You want to believe it. Time flies, people pour into the bar, the sky outside the window slowly fades. Suddenly, Owen asks if my friend has entered the bar. I turn to see a pretty girl looking around the tables. And I had forgotten that I had lied to her.
• "No, it's not her. Time flies so fast with you guys, I just got caught up in the conversation and forgot. I'll go to the bathroom and call her."
• I clean up, wait five minutes and return to the table. I lie again that my friend is late for work and will be back later.
• "It's too bad we didn't get to meet her, but we should go."
• You get up from the table. I'll go up after them.
• "Yeah, sure, it was good to see you."
• And that's it? I got a friendly goodbye hug, and there was nothing passionate about the gestures, just a simple friend zone. They paid for their beers, talked to the bartender about something, and left, leaving me alone. Several erotic dreams with them in the leading role, wild dissatisfaction, stress at work, and finally such a bummer. And I needed a release, and then I'm sure I would have drawn a categorical stop line, which I definitely did not cross, but they warned me right away, just one night...
• Yeah, fuck it! I drank the rest of my beer in one gulp and went to the bar to get a refill.
• An hour later I was already flirting with a stranger, he had blue eyes and the same color short sleeve shirt, his hair was neatly styled, he talked a lot, made me laugh and wanted to get me into bed. The alcohol in my blood was dancing, I was ready to have sex with him right in the back seat of the car. I bit my lip and waited for him to offer to leave the bar. Just then, an arm slipped around my waist and pulled me tight against him.
• "Well, sis, don't you think it's time to go home? " a familiar voice said. I turned to see Owen. Aaron walked over to my new acquaintance.
• "She's our sister and you need to get out of here".
• The stranger waved both hands away, as if he was glad to be rid of me, silently picked up his beer and went to the tables. He'll find a replacement for me in no time.
• A fresh breeze hits my face, my cheeks burn, my head buzzes. If it weren't for the guys, I would have fallen, but they held me on both sides. In another situation I would have been happy about it, but now I resented it.
• "Why did you do it? Maybe I've finally found someone who can satisfy me".
• "You already have, " Owen whispered in my ear and opened the car door.
• Goosebumps ran down my back, my legs buckled at the knees. This wasn’t going to work, you wanted this and now you're chickening out? But there's nothing I can do but got in the car and slammed the door. We drove in complete silence and I already knew the route.
• I asked to be taken back to the bar, to be taken home, or to be left on the side of the road. There was silence, Aaron drove, Owen did not even turn around. Outside their house, I tried to walk to the bus stop, but I almost fell, was silently turned around and led into the house.
• And do you think we had sex? Not at all, they gave the room away, assigned me a T-shirt instead of pajamas, and told me not to even turn up my nose. One night, one girl was their motto. Apparently, I had to repeat it three times to make sure I understood and never dreamed of spending another night with them again.
• I fell asleep on the huge two-by-two bed all alone, drowning in regret. I wished I'd never met them, I wish I'd never enjoyed that night, I wish I hadn't gone to that bar tonight and looked for them. Such humiliation... I was groggy from the drink and it was unlikely I would have made it out of the apartment quietly and unnoticed, but even in that state I knew I would regret what had happened a hundred times more in the morning. All I could do before I passed out was set my alarm for five in the morning so I could sneak out and forget everything about Aaron and Owen forever.