they were all of places and objects, not people. No selfies. She checked Leo’s social media, scrolling through his pictures, looking for ones of the two of them.
“He has many pictures of Flutie,” said Cotton.
“You know they like each other, right?”
“Obviously they like . . .” He paused. “Oh. They do?”
She let him file this information into his brain. She held out a photo with Cotton in the background behind a grinning Flutie. He was slightly out of focus, but his hair was shorter. “How about like that? Do you want your hair that length?”
When he agreed, she smiled. “I think we should have a boundary word. Like we used to have with . . .”
“Ms. Q.”
“Exactly. If I do something you don’t like, or you need me to hit pause, you can say the word and we’ll stop. That way you won’t get annoyed. And I won’t worry you’re mad.”
“‘Squid.’”
“Squid?”
“It has to be something we can remember, and something we wouldn’t accidentally say.” He shrugged. “I’m not interested in talking about squid.”
“Me neither. All right. ‘Squid’ it is.” She made a face. “That’s a word that sounds like what it is. Now you should cover your shirt. To keep things clean.”
He wrapped a towel around his shoulders.
“Nice cape. What’s your superhero name?”
He grinned. She saw a flash of the Cotton who used to let her copy his papers. “I always liked Green Lantern. But he doesn’t wear a cape. Most superheroes don’t.”
“Really? I thought that was a requirement. But I guess a cape could get in the way.” She held a lock of hair between her fingers on one hand and cut with the other. The sound of the scissors was metallic and harsh. She paused, waiting to see if Cotton seemed bothered.
“A cape is mostly aesthetic,” he said. “But it’s also useful at times. For hiding or providing warmth. It can be a kind of tool.”
She let him talk about the various superhero characters, classifying them by costume, then by origin of power, strengths, weaknesses, geography, and sidekicks. She murmured agreement, soothing little sounds of listening, while she concentrated on her job. His hair felt smooth and silky between her fingers. Now that it was damp, the smell of his shampoo was stronger. It mixed with the smell of his skin, along with the warm and musty smell of the garage, and the clash of mud-smell from her own clothes. She stepped away, took off the offending sweatshirt, then moved back, wearing only a T-shirt. She wasn’t cold anymore.
The trick to cutting his hair was to focus on each individual section, not his entire head. There was too much hair, too many different directions the curls wanted to go. She had to tame each lock before moving on to the next one. Clip by clip, snip by snip, one bit by one bit.
Once she’d made her way around his head, she stood in front of him, studying her work. He looked younger without all the extra hair. Or maybe it was older, now that she noticed the strong line of his chin, dusky with stubble.
“It looks good.” She meant it. “But I need to clean up the edges. Can I use the razor?”
“Yes.”
She used her fingers to lather soap along the nape of his neck. She pressed the blade firmly against his skin, so as not to tickle, but gentle enough not to nick, either.
“Squid,” said Cotton.
She froze, with the razor in her hand. She’d only made two runs along his neck.
“Did you ever shave Sean?”
“No.”
“You can keep going now.”
But the sound of her boyfriend’s name in Cotton’s mouth made her falter. “Squid,” she whispered.
She stepped away from him, needing to clear her head. She wiped a few suds against the hem of her shirt. Then she took a deep breath. There was still another side of Cotton’s neck in need of her attention.
“I guess we should have a ‘go-for-it’ word too. So we know we can start again.”
“‘Humdiddle,’” said Cotton.
She laughed, feeling a warm relaxation seep into her middle. “That’s from the fishes wishes song! All right then, ‘humdiddle.’”
She ran the razor down his neck again.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “About Sean.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You can ask me anything, Cotton. If I don’t want to answer, I’ll call squid.”
“I meant for him. I’m sorry for Sean. This is very pleasant.”
She ducked behind his head where he couldn’t see her ridiculous smile. He had such a way of surprising her, in the best, most wonderfully odd kind