Free 93 Sampler Page B

says, and I almost feel like he sounds sorry for me.
        I don’t have a reply – how am I supposed to respond to something like that? – so I get out of the car and just make my way into the building.
        “Hey, Carter! Is- Wait, who’s the Channing Tatum lookalike?” Jenny, the owner, cuts herself off as she greets me, and I glance back at Jackson, who seems to get a little taller at her words.
        “Oh, that’s Jackson,” I explain. “Jackson, meet Jenny.”
        He gives her a wave, and she blushes slightly. “This wouldn’t be the same Jackson your mom tolerates purely because he’s military?”
        “That’s me. Barely tolerated, and apparently a celebrity,” Jackson jokes, smiling in a way I’ve seen only when he’s determined to flirt. Despite the fact that Jenny is probably his mom’s age, she doesn’t look it. And clearly Jackson doesn’t care either way.
        But today I want to get my hair done. So I cut in. “Yes, he’s my best friend. My mother thinks it would look bad if she didn’t approve of someone who is serving his country,” I clarify, hoping Jenny takes the hint that I’m ready to go.
        Luckily, she does. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Jackson. Anyway,” she turns to me, “I take it your mother isn’t here today? I didn’t get a chance to ask on the phone.” Whenever I come to Jenny, every couple of months or so, she seems to have a different color streak at the front of her bob-styled hair; today it’s a bright blue, and it seems to accent her oval face perfectly.
        “No, she has no idea I’m here,” I admit. I feel the nerves start to kick in, but push them back when I remember how good the cotton candy tasted. I think Ashton was right, I’m becoming addicted.
        “Oh? This is different. So what am I doing today?” Jenny frowns, and it makes me smile; she has no idea that I’m about to make her day.
        “Well… you know how you keep wanting to really  style my hair?”
        When her eyes widen, I know she understands, but I finish anyway. “I have color ideas, but as far as the style goes, you have free reign. Just keep my hair at least medium-long, and we’re good.”
        Jenny lets out a squeal. “Finally! Let me guess, your mom doesn’t know you’re here because she won’t approve unless it’s too late to stop it from happening?”
        I nod. “You know her almost as well as I do .”
        “Got it. So what changed your mind?” She asks, leading me to her chair. There’s a strip of similar chairs lined up against one wall facing the doorway, and on either side of the door there are additional seats. Each chair is loaded up with the different products and equipment each stylist uses.
        Jenny’s chair is directly opposite the doorway, and I’m slightly more relaxed by the familiar setting. Since it’s Sunday, it’s pretty quiet, and I notice only one other stylist working, and she seems to be talking animatedly to her client, who doesn’t even seem to notice there are more people in the room.
        I’m busy settling down, and before I can say anything, I see Jackson take a seat nearby and smirk. “Little miss daredevil over here had a date last night.”
        Jenny gasped. “No way! Tell me everything .”
        “I want to hear this, too. She wouldn’t say anything till we got here,” Jackson says.
        I laugh at both of them, taking hold of the cotton-candy feeling and making the most of it.
         I’ve never felt this way before, I find myself thinking, but push that to the side; today is just about the date, not my emotions.
        “Okay, his name is Ashton, and he’s a guy from my Graphic Design Club,” I start, but am interrupted by Jenny.
        “Wait, I thought you were