Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) by Kelsey Jensen Page A
Authors: Kelsey Jensen
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behind me, cutting off her ability to toss more demands my way.
Grabbing my hair dryer and the round brush that is sitting on the vanity, I look in the mirror and get to work on my hair—a style and color I’ve finally found that suits me.
A miracle.
If you were to go back through our family pictures over the years, it’d be next to impossible to find anywhere I’m working the same do for more than a few months at a time.
From the moment I could, I experimented with my hair. I never went real wild or did funky colors (at least not more than a peek-a-boo) but I’d been all over the spectrum. Blonde, black, brunette, auburn, and around again. I’d had auburn right before I’d changed and, while I dug the red, the style I’d found was so me.
It’s dark brown all over—about four steps up from black—except surrounding my face on the sides, my bangs, and a couple random peek-a-boos in the back. Those are all a mix of platinum and golden blonde. I’ve managed to leave it alone long enough so it’s long with lots of layers for volume, and side swept bangs. It can be wild, it’s always hot (when I wasn’t just waking up after letting it air dry), it can be classy in its own way, and I freaking love it.
By the time I finish my hair and makeup (only powder and mascara since I’ll be taking it off to reapply later), I’m no longer annoyed with Evan anymore; I’m definitely not grateful, but the annoyed vibe is gone. The new, big barreled brush I just bought works phenomenally and it’s hard to keep being annoyed when you’re having a good hair day. But once I walk into my room, I realize my mistake.
I should’ve locked Evan in the closet, or at least in the bathroom with me.
Not only are there more clothes scattered around the room, but Maddy had shown up at some point and seems to have been helping with the destruction.
“You know you’re both cleaning this up, right?” I ask, standing just inside the room with my hands on my hips and a disgruntled look on my face.
Maddy whirls around with a sheepish grin, hiding whatever she has in her hands behind her back. Evan, on the other hand, just looks at me over her shoulder and flings a hand in the air, as if to say, “whatever”.
“Um, I just got here. This is all Evan’s doing,” Maddy semi-tattles.
Evan whips her head toward Maddy and glares.
“Not true. You’ve been here fifteen minutes and that’s your pile over there,” Evan fires, pointing to a pile on the other side of my bed I can’t see.
Jesus.
At this rate, I won’t need a closet or dressers anymore because everything I own will be on the floor or my bed.
Maddy’s right hand flies to her hip.
“It is not! You handed me those clothes. You told me to put them somewhere because you said there was no way in hell she was wearing that stuff. Don’t blame me so I have to clean up your mess,” she shoots back.
I just stare.
Evan turns and faces Maddy, throwing both hands on her hips.
Shit.
I take a step forward and try to wade in. “Girls—”
“I didn’t tell you to put them on the floor. I told you to put them somewhere, like her bed, or better yet the trash where they belong. Normal people don’t just throw clean clothes on the floor willy-nilly.”
Maddy’s other arm comes up, points her finger at Evan, and replies, “You do!”
“Well I’m not normal,” Evan defends.
At that, I stop staring and being annoyed at the mention of throwing my clothes away, and start trying to hold in my laughter.
I don’t succeed.
Both hear my choked laugh and turn their glares on me.
Doubling over, I start laughing at the ridiculous situation.
A small giggle has me raising my eyes to see it came from Maddy. Still laughing, I straighten and look at Evan who’s trying her damnedest to fight her smile, but is steadily failing.
“Forget it. I needed to go through my clothes anyway, this just saved me from doing a half-ass job. Kiss and make up so I can get dressed and run my
Grabbing my hair dryer and the round brush that is sitting on the vanity, I look in the mirror and get to work on my hair—a style and color I’ve finally found that suits me.
A miracle.
If you were to go back through our family pictures over the years, it’d be next to impossible to find anywhere I’m working the same do for more than a few months at a time.
From the moment I could, I experimented with my hair. I never went real wild or did funky colors (at least not more than a peek-a-boo) but I’d been all over the spectrum. Blonde, black, brunette, auburn, and around again. I’d had auburn right before I’d changed and, while I dug the red, the style I’d found was so me.
It’s dark brown all over—about four steps up from black—except surrounding my face on the sides, my bangs, and a couple random peek-a-boos in the back. Those are all a mix of platinum and golden blonde. I’ve managed to leave it alone long enough so it’s long with lots of layers for volume, and side swept bangs. It can be wild, it’s always hot (when I wasn’t just waking up after letting it air dry), it can be classy in its own way, and I freaking love it.
By the time I finish my hair and makeup (only powder and mascara since I’ll be taking it off to reapply later), I’m no longer annoyed with Evan anymore; I’m definitely not grateful, but the annoyed vibe is gone. The new, big barreled brush I just bought works phenomenally and it’s hard to keep being annoyed when you’re having a good hair day. But once I walk into my room, I realize my mistake.
I should’ve locked Evan in the closet, or at least in the bathroom with me.
Not only are there more clothes scattered around the room, but Maddy had shown up at some point and seems to have been helping with the destruction.
“You know you’re both cleaning this up, right?” I ask, standing just inside the room with my hands on my hips and a disgruntled look on my face.
Maddy whirls around with a sheepish grin, hiding whatever she has in her hands behind her back. Evan, on the other hand, just looks at me over her shoulder and flings a hand in the air, as if to say, “whatever”.
“Um, I just got here. This is all Evan’s doing,” Maddy semi-tattles.
Evan whips her head toward Maddy and glares.
“Not true. You’ve been here fifteen minutes and that’s your pile over there,” Evan fires, pointing to a pile on the other side of my bed I can’t see.
Jesus.
At this rate, I won’t need a closet or dressers anymore because everything I own will be on the floor or my bed.
Maddy’s right hand flies to her hip.
“It is not! You handed me those clothes. You told me to put them somewhere because you said there was no way in hell she was wearing that stuff. Don’t blame me so I have to clean up your mess,” she shoots back.
I just stare.
Evan turns and faces Maddy, throwing both hands on her hips.
Shit.
I take a step forward and try to wade in. “Girls—”
“I didn’t tell you to put them on the floor. I told you to put them somewhere, like her bed, or better yet the trash where they belong. Normal people don’t just throw clean clothes on the floor willy-nilly.”
Maddy’s other arm comes up, points her finger at Evan, and replies, “You do!”
“Well I’m not normal,” Evan defends.
At that, I stop staring and being annoyed at the mention of throwing my clothes away, and start trying to hold in my laughter.
I don’t succeed.
Both hear my choked laugh and turn their glares on me.
Doubling over, I start laughing at the ridiculous situation.
A small giggle has me raising my eyes to see it came from Maddy. Still laughing, I straighten and look at Evan who’s trying her damnedest to fight her smile, but is steadily failing.
“Forget it. I needed to go through my clothes anyway, this just saved me from doing a half-ass job. Kiss and make up so I can get dressed and run my