All the Pretty Lies by M. Leighton

is worth
more than that to me. I just can’t tell her that.
    “So when do you see him again?”
    “Since I’ve got school, he doesn’t want me
coming in there so late and being tired the next day, so he said I
should plan on coming Thursday and Friday night.”
    “How considerate,” she says sarcastically.
“He needs to get over that shit and just get this done.”
    “Sarah…” I roll my eyes. “You should’ve been
a guy.”
    “Why? Because I’m honest?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Well, that’s why I’m not a guy. Guys
aren’t honest. They hide things from you and tell you what you want
to hear. I don’t do that. Therefore God made me a female. By far
the superior gender.”
    “You really should put that on a
mug.”
    “I’m working on it. I’m working on it.” One
glance in her direction tells me that she probably really is. And
if she does, I’m sure at least one of them will end up under my
tree at Christmas time.
    I shake my head and roll my eyes again.
    Sarah’s one crazy girl.
     
    ********

    By the time Thursday rolls around, I’m more than ready to see Hemi again. I feel like I’m becoming
addicted to him, like time spent away from him is nearly painful.
Which is ridiculous, of course, since I haven’t known him very
long.
    But still…
    I dressed carefully for my first night in the
“studio” as Hemi calls it. I wanted to look sexy and mature without
looking trashy or like I’m trying too hard. I chose some snug jeans
that ride low on my hips and a cap-sleeved shirt that makes my
boobs look good and my waist look small. When I move a certain way,
it gives a glimpse of my stomach, and showing a guy some skin is
always a good idea. At least that’s what I’ve heard. It also gives
a peek-a-boo look at my butterflies from some angles, which I
love.
    I park in a spot at the end of the street, so
as not to take up any customer spaces, and I climb out, leaving my
purse but grabbing the folder with the forms for Hemi’s boss to
fill out. Releases for school and stuff, and then Hemi’s preceptor
form. It’ll be official then. He’ll be stuck with me for the rest
of the semester, a thought that thrills me to the bone.
    When I walk in, there are two people in the
lobby. By the looks of them, they’re waiting for their turn in one
of the chairs. I give them a smile and make my way to the doorway
that leads to the back room. I’m not sure whether I should just
walk on back or not, so I poke my head in and see if I can spot
Hemi. And I do. Immediately. My eye is drawn to him like the earth
is drawn to the sun. I can just make out his head behind the
partition that divides his area. It looks as though he’s talking to
someone, a female most likely, judging by what little bit of her
face I can see.
    A young guy appears at my side. I was so
caught up in looking for Hemi, I didn’t even see him approach. He
can’t be much older than me. He has a Mohawk and several piercings
on his face. Even so, he’s cute in a punk rock way, with his
engaging smile and sparkling green eyes.
    “You looking for Hemi?”
    “Yes, I see him over there, but I don’t want
to interrupt.”
    “Oh, you won’t. She’s not a client.”
    “Are you sure? I don’t want to get him into
trouble.”
    “How would you do that?”
    “Well, his boss might get mad if—”
    The guy laughs. “Hemi doesn’t have a
boss. He is the boss.”
    I’m puzzled. “He runs this place?”
    “Yep, he sure does. He’s the manager.”
    “Oh,” I say flatly. I wonder why he never
told me that.
    “That’ll be our little secret, though. He
doesn’t tell a lot of people that. I just assumed he’d tell you
since you’ll be hanging around here quite a bit.”
    “How do you know about that?”
    “He told us to expect you, that he’d be
showing you the ropes. Some kind of thing he’s doing for your
school.”
    “Right. Yeah, he’s…helping me.”
    “So, what are you waiting for? Go on back,”
he says with a pleasant smile. “I