A Note for My Head Asking What My Heart Said

Zel turned over in her bed, nestling her head into her pillow. She was only half-asleep anymore, as her hazy dreams had insisted she wake up. With a sigh she opened her eyes. “Merda!” she whispered, throwing back the covers of her bed and jumping out of bed.

She was late for her first day working full time at Hair Razors. Having somehow missed her alarm, she now didn’t have time for a shower before she had to drive Lu to school and Ania to day-care.

“Everyone in the death-trap!” she called, pulling on her left boot as she hopped down the stairs and tried to shove everything in her purse. Luciano cleared all the dishes from the table and picked up his backpack as Zel rushed by. “Ania, where are your shoes?”

“I’m wearing shoes!” Stephania insisted, lifting up her booted foot and waving it.

Zel sighed, slowing down to kneel by her sister and straighten her plaid jumper. “You know they only like you to wear tennis shoes,” she reminded, fixing her pigtails.

“But I like these boots,” she persisted, looking sadly down at her studded leather boots. Zel chewed her lower lip. She didn’t have time to make Stephania change, and to be honest, she didn’t want to. It was a stupid rule anyway.

She stood up and pulled her sister by the hand towards the door. “Andiamo. If they tell you to get some proper shoes again, tell them your nonna bought them for you, and she thinks they’re lovely.”

Zel didn’t get around to checking her phone until she’d dropped her brother off and was heading to the salon. The electronic voice informed her that she had six voicemail messages. The first was from Zack, asking where she’d gone; he had looked forward to having someone to talk to while the others got plastered. The second was from Rian, calling to see if she was okay. The third was from Jack, thanking her profusely for introducing him to Naomi; Zel didn’t want to know the details. Then Rian again, apologising but not saying why. He sounded tired; it must have been in the middle of the night.

Naomi left the fifth message, very early in the morning, that went something like this: “OH MY GOD, ZEL! WHY AREN'T YOU PICKING UP YOUR PHONE! I NEED-- OH MY GOD, FUCK IT! I CAN'T WAIT. WAIT MAYBE I SHOULD...UGH GODDAMMIT WHY DIDN'T YOU PICK UP! I HAVE TO TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENED. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD! I HATE YOU RIGHT NOW BUT NOT REALLY BECAUSE I LOVE YOU BUT SERIOUSLY I NEED TO TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENED!” Pause for breath. “Ugh. Okay, well since you're obviously not going to call me back anytime soon because I KNOW YOU TOO WELL, I'll just say it. BITCH, I GOT LAID.” Click. End of message.

Rian called again after that, saying that he had just woken up and he was sorry for calling so many times but he was worried and Zel needed to call him.

Walking into Hair Razors, Zel sighed and dropped her phone back into her purse. She would deal with all of those later, but Rian last since it would probably take the longest. She tied back her hair after stowing her stuff in the back room and went to work. Already three people had called and made appointments with her.

After three hours her boss Loretta forced her to take a break. “Honey, you’ve been on your feet since you got in,” she said, one fist on her amble hips and the other hand pointing at her. “And there’s no way I’m believing those heels are comfortable.”

Zel laughed, bringing her latest customer up from the sink. “Actually they are. My cousin Paolo had them custom-made for me by some designer he works with in Milan.”

A few of the other hairstylists turned to stare at her. “You have custom Italian-leather boots?” one of the more trendwhore ladies asked, gaping in jealousy. “How the heck did you afford them on your salary?”

She shrugged. “We’re family,” Zel replied, picking up her layering scissors. “It was no big deal. He said it was to make up for my last two birthdays.” She glanced up from her current project; people were still staring. Zel turned to Loretta. “I’ll take lunch once I’m done here.”

“Someone’s phone is ringing!” Moon called after Zel had returned to the salon and started another customer. Moon—and yes, that was actually her name—was cleaning the station closest to the back room and had hearing like a hawk’s vision. “I think... Zel, it’s yours!”

“I’ll get it later,” she replied, as the front door bell jingled.

Head down, Naomi shuffled in and slumped in her seat behind the front desk. Zel smiled to herself as Loretta noticed the receptionist. “You’re late,” she stated flatly. Naomi turned and blinked innocently. “Why?”

Her smile turned sheepish as their boss looked suspicious and Zel smothered a smirk. “I know why,” she sing-songed. Those listening—Naomi, Loretta, and those wanting in on gossip—turned to her. She arched a pointed eyebrow at Loretta, setting the woman in the chair’s hair, and after a moment, a look of comprehension crossed Loretta’s eyes.

Her eyes widened and a grin split her face. She winked knowingly at Naomi, who sat up straight ready to protest her innocence. “All is forgiven!” Loretta chimed, and headed into the back chuckling.

Naomi blinked from her retreating back to Zel’s vague, smug expression. The younger woman pointed her scissors at her. “You owe me, Nay. Big time.”

As Zel washed her hands in the employee bathroom near the end of her shift, her ears perked up to the sound of giggles. She rolled her eyes; obviously another unsuspecting male had wandered in accidentally. Zel doubted if the guys would ever let Zack live that down.

“Oh, Miss Kolston~!” Loretta called from the front, a smile in her voice.

She dried her hands and strolled out, half-dreading why she would be needed when there was yet another probably-young, probably-attractive guy in the shop. She was pleasantly surprised. “Rian!” she exclaimed, stopping at the sight of her old friend.

Rian looked up from the swarm of woman and grinned thankfully. “Hey.” He tried to edge his way out of the circle, but the women didn’t budge. “Uh, I wanted to take you to dinner.”

“And also apologise yet again for last night?” Zel brushed some stray hair off her station seat. “What’s up with that, Ri? You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”

Naomi squeezed her way through to Rian, glaring at everyone as she passed them. “Give the man some space, jeez!” Eventually the admirers drifted away, and with a grin, Naomi sketched a bow. “Your witness, Mister Dawson.”

Zel rolled her eyes. “I’ve still got thirty minutes on shift,” she informed him. “D’you wanna go down the stree—”

“No, you’re done,” Loretta corrected. Zel blinked in confusion; she’d been late and she was being let off early? In passing the owner of Hair Razors whispered, “Go have fun with your boyfriend.”

Zel started. “He’s not—” But her boss just shook her head and shooed her towards the door. She sighed and grabbed her purse from the back. “Alrighty, Dawson. Apparently I’m being sent home.”

“At least you’re not being dragged out in a straight jacket,” he commented, following her out of the salon and waving to Naomi.

“So why the sudden bout of generosity?” Zel asked, leaning her elbows on the table. Rian had picked the coffee shop that they used to go to after school and buy not-coffee; they’d probably had everything on the menu but coffee. “I was supposed to go to Nonna’s and have dinner with family.”

Rian blinked. “I’m making you miss your grandmother’s cooking? You must really love me.”

“Yeah, keep thinking that.” She smiled wryly while he laughed, and pulled out her phone. “But I should call to say I’m going to miss dinner.” She bit her lip, waiting for someone to pick up, and brightened when someone did. “Buona sera, Nonna!”

Rian looked around the place as Zel talked in Italian; every time he came home, things seemed completely foreign yet exactly the same. He didn’t miss high school per say, but he wondered sometimes what he would be doing, how he would be different, if he weren’t drumming in the band.

He turned back to the table when Zel’s tone became exasperated. “No, lui è non il mio rogazzo.” She rolled her eyes at him, as if he could understand. “Non ho un rogazzo.” Rian smiled and sipped his soda; he remembered the few times Zel tried to teach him Italian and what a complete failure the whole endeavour had been.

Zel sighed once she said goodbye to her grandmother and chuckled slightly at Rian. “I envy you your lack of an Italian grandmother sometimes.”

He snorted. “Aww, but I love your grandma. She always used to say, Marizella, why no you go out with Rian,” he remembered, doing his best old-Italian-lady voice. “He is nice boy.”

She scoffed. “Well, some things never change,” she muttered, looking at her phone. “Oh, I have a message. Eh, I’ll get it later.”

“I don’t mind.” Zel raised a curious eyebrow at him. “It’ll give me an excuse to get another muffin. Those things are fucking delicious.”

Zel laughed and called her voicemail as Rian got up and crossed the room. You have… one… new message, the electronic voice said. It gave the time and date of the call, and she sat through the monotone in boredom, but when the message played, Zel sat up straight.

“Hey, Zel… it’s Alex.” Her temper flared; the sound of his voice reminded Zel that she never wanted to hear it again. “I have to make this fast, because I stole Rian’s phone.” She rolled her eyes as Rian sat back down and muttered to him about always knowing where his things were. “Look… I don’t remember what I did last night, but all I know is I went over to Jack’s and Dawson was super pissed at me. He didn’t tell me what happened, and I don’t even remember you being at the party…”

“You look like you want to strangle a kitten,” Rian pointed out, laughing slightly. “What’s up?”

Zel held up a hand as Alex’s voice continued. She was a rational creature; she’d hear him out, then hang him out a window by the ankles. “I guess I’m kind of an ass when I’m drunk.” His voice chuckled quietly, and Zel found it hard not to smile. But she wouldn’t; she had standards and control of her emotions. “Uh…I guess… I just called— called… I—y—Um… god, why is this so hard?” he muttered.

She frowned slightly; she’d never heard Alex trip over his words before. Zel didn’t know if she should trust his honesty more or less because of it. “I don’t know what I did,” Alex decided to phrase, “Or said—I probably said a lot of shit—but…” He drifted off, and Zel stared emptily at the crumbs of food on the plate before her. “I’m really sorry, Zel. And I know you probably think that’s bullshit, which I deserve. But I swear I’ll make it up to you somehow...”

Alex’s voice paused. Zel’s eyes darted up to Rian, who tilted his head in confusion at her very slight, changing expressions. “Rian’s coming back. Okay, I’ll get if you never want to talk to me again, but if you do…” He left his cell number, saying that it was way more reliable than his parents’ house phone. “I… really hope you call.”

And then he hung up. Zel stared blankly as the electronic voice prompted her further and took no notice of it. Something was tugging at her brain, like a small child tugging his mother’s skirt for attention, but it didn’t verbalise.

“Zel? You okay?”

She snapped out of her daze and smiled warmly at Rian. “Yeah,” she said after a moment. “I’m… good.” He looked sceptical, and to ward off conversation of the call, she put on a smirk and leaned onto the table again. “So, Rian. Why haven’t you introduced your girlfriend to your bestest friend in the whole wide world?”