Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
"Relax. I would not let you get a sketchy Brazilian wax." Everly pulls open the door. "Have a little faith, bitch."
Everly checks us in as I take a seat to wait. A minute later a pretty girl comes out from a back room and hugs Everly. She glances over at me and smiles. "Hi! I'm Leah." Wait. This is
our waxer? She looks like she's only a few years older than we are. I was imagining a nice older woman I'd never bump into again.
"So which one of you wants to go first?" Leah looks between us. This girl has the most perfect eyebrows I've ever seen. I wonder if she waxes them herself.
"She'll go first," we both say at the same time.
"Oh, no, you're going first. Before you chicken out."
"Fine," I grumble in reply. I get off the couch and so does Everly.
"What are you doing?" I ask her.
"I'm coming with."
"Uh, no. That cannot be normal. I draw the line at having you watch."
"Yeah, that is not okay. You can't come with if Sophie doesn't want you to," Leah states firmly. I'm surprised. She's got a hippie-chick vibe and a nose ring. I thought she'd invite
Everly back with open arms.
Yes! "Yeah, Everly, that is not okay." I smile smugly and wave on my way into the back room.
Chapter 8
"Take off your pants and lie on your back." Leah is stirring a pot of wax on a counter set up along the wall.
I falter for a moment. Just take off my pants? I pictured her leaving the room and me getting at least a paper gown to cover myself with. Everly was wrong. The gynecologist visit was
less awkward than this.
Leah turns her head and sees me just standing there. "Your underwear too. We're doing a full Brazilian, right?"
Okay then. I nod and toe my shoes off without bending over. I unzip and slide my jeans off before folding them and placing them on an empty chair with my bag. So, my underwear. This is
weird. I slip them off too and look at my folded jeans. I should tuck my underwear under my jeans, right? I know I'm standing here naked but I don't want her to see my underwear just
lying on the chair.
I glance down. Socks. Dammit with the socks again. On or off? On. Definitely on. She's not waxing my feet. I hop onto the table and lie back. No poster on the ceiling here. I stuff my
hands into the pocket of my hoodie. It's so weird that I'm only naked from the waist down.
Leah turns away from the pot of wax and inspects me. Literally. "Okay, let's see what we have to work with here. Pull your knees up and drop them to the side. Like a frog."
"There's no poster on the ceiling!" I blurt out.
"What?" Leah looks confused.
"Um. You should have a poster. On the ceiling. For me to look at. Or maybe a TV?" I look at Leah. She's not looking at me anymore though. She's got a big popsicle stick of wax in her
hand and she's about to slather it on my body.
This is it. I'm about to die. Of humiliation. My hand bumps the cell still stuffed in my hoodie pocket. I should send a goodbye message. I pull out my phone. I text Everly and tell her I
hate her.
The first coat of wax hits my skin. That's not so bad. It's warm. Kinda pleasant even. Minus the fact that I'm lying half naked on a table in front of a woman I just met.
Leah drops the stick in the trash and presses a cloth on top of the wax. Pressing it down with her hand. Yeah. This is fantastic.
Not.
Leah presses one hand flat against my abdomen and rips the wax strip off with the other.
I wait for a blinding pain combined with a flash of white light inviting me to cross over to the other side. Ouch. That hurt. But I don't think it's going to kill me. It wasn't so bad.
It burns a little.
It's more embarrassing than anything. I let out a huge breath I didn't realize I was holding.
Leah's back with another stick full of wax. Spreading and ripping. "Looks good!" she chirps from between my thighs. "Your boyfriend is going to love this!"
"Yeah," I reply. "I'm sure he will. So, do you wax yourself?"
"Oh, no," Leah replies. "We wax each other."
"What?"
"The other waxers. We just grab whoever's not busy and do each other."
"You let your co-workers wax your vagina? People you see every day? And meet after work for drinks?"
Leah laughs. "Yeah. Who cares?" She shrugs. "You have to be careful with co-workers though. Sometimes we mess with each other for a laugh."
"Practical jokes with wax?" I ask.
"Exactly. One time"—she has to stop because she's laughing—"one time Laura waxed Katie’s bush into the shape of a goldfish cracker." I try to discreetly check out my vagina in case
Everly's arranged for some practical joke to my nether regions. "Katie was into some 80's phase where she was only doing her bikini line." Leah has regained her composure. "Totally
unacceptable, obviously."