Kalon perused a cardboard book with colored locks of hair taped in as she sat in one of the overstuffed chairs meant for waiting customers. She glanced up to follow Strauss cross the salon with her green eyes, watching her grab clippers from a drawer, and then returning to browsing.
“Just tell me now if you are actually here to color your hair, or if you’ll back out again.”
Kalon fiddled with the two hoops in her left earlobe. “I’m mulling it over.”
“You’ve had green, and then shock yellow, and then purple hair. Just pick something so that I can have the dye ready.”
“Innit likes my natural hair.” She pulled at random locks in her curly bob. “Can’t say why. It’s such a drab shade of brown.”
“Bother Innit!” Strauss waved her buzzing clippers passionately. “You’re the one wearing it. You should like it.”
Kalon smirked. “And you get to play with my hair, and be paid for it.”
“A small factor, friend.” She forcefully turned her customer’s head to buzz off his other sideburn. “I quite like my natural color, but even I put in a few lowlights. It makes it pop.”
“What would the high and lows be for such a mousy brown? Some shade of grey? More brown? I won’t go blonde again. That was a mistake.”
“It washed you out. Made you look ill. I did try to warn you.”
She fingered the unbuttoned top button of her cardigan, putting the book away with a sigh. She watched out the large window, knowing it was the direct route to the library and knowing Innit was due to arrive within the hour.
“Thank you, sir, for your business. See you in two weeks!”
Kalon gave a friendly smile and nod to the departing patron, uncrossing her legs to stand. She leaned her elbows up on the counter to watch Strauss busy about getting things ready for whatever random walk-ins would come.
“I should bring Innit by. Let you do something with his hair.”
“It is the second quickest way to my good side.”
“Only the second?”
Strauss held up her piercing needle. “Nothing quite like willingly being stabbed by me to win me over.” She frowned, shaking her head. “I know you’re growing it out, but letting the ends frizz is not going to help. Let me trim it. Just a few centimeters to give it shine. Completely free, of course.”
She shrugged and went to one of the salon chairs. She twisted it to gaze out the window as Struass pulled a comb and shears from their places.
“Pop off that sweater, Kalon. I don’t want to get little hair bits on it. They’ll never come out.”
“Oh.” Kalon turned pink. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t have a blouse on under here.”
“Laundry day?”
“...Sure.”
“I was wondering why it was all buttoned except the top two. Normally the other way round for that. Well, so long as you have your bra, I don’t see the problem. I’ll turn you away from the window and lock the door. Any walk-ins can wait outside five minutes.”
Kalon braced in front of the chair, slowly undoing the buttons on her cardigan. She shut her eyes as she slid it off.
“Kalon?”
She peeked at Strauss with one eye. “Yes?” Kalon crossed her arms over her black lacy bra. “Can we hurry? I’m rather chilly.”
“Is that red rash on your tit a reaction to the lace?” Strauss raised her eyebrows. “Looks an awful lot like a love bite.”
Kalon turned scarlet and clamped her hand over the mark. She searched for an excuse, squirming under Strauss’s scrutinizing stare. She took a breath and allowed her hands to rest in her lap. She gave her friend a small smile, shrugging.
“You let him under your shirt!” Strauss covered her mouth. “Kalon! Are you mad? You can’t do that. He’ll go for more!” She rushed to stand between Kalon and the large window. “What if this gets around?”
“What of it?”
Strauss stared, agape. “What of…? You can’t be serious. Your reputation as the brilliant granddaughter of the librarian would evaporate, just to start. You have a shot to have an actual marriage pool, you know. Not like me with the two random townie boys asking if I was available.”
“Aren’t you marrying one of those random boys in a few months?”
“Perhaps this autumn if our savings–. Don’t distract me!”
She inspected the mark on the mirror while Strauss huffed on. It had been more purple yesterday. It was healing quickly, a testament to the care in which it was placed.
“Good thing he didn't bite.”
“Excuse me?” Strauss looked ready to scream. “Did you just whisper about this bloke biting you? Does he bite you?’
“I was never going to have a marriage pool.” Kalon crossed her legs. “I wasn't sure anyone would even consider marrying me.”
“You're doing grand making sure no one ever would!” Strauss threw herself into the neighboring chair. “If you keep going on, if you go any further, then it'll get out and you'll just be known as some… practice girl.”
Kalon dropped her hands to her lap, picking at her eggplant nails. She dragged her fingers off her lap and dug them into her stomach. She went to stand, but Strauss stopped her, muttering about how she still needed a trim. They were absent their usual chatter and eye contact; Kalon not meeting her own reflected eyes, instead looking at the mark just above her lacy bra line.
She had heard the term ‘practice girl’ before, and from Strauss. She had read about them, knew the term was more recent but the idea of there being a difference between marriageable and unmarriageable people–not just women–was older than the records. She was the unmarriageable.
“You’re beautiful and brilliant, Kalon.” Strauss fluffed Kalon’s hair to assess her work. “I don’t understand why you have this strange mindset that you’re lesser.” She hummed. “You stuck with purple longest, but I’d bet a primary would look killer. Not yellow, of course. A more minty green would work too.”
Kalon donned her cardigan, slowly fastening the buttons. Her insides writhed as she watched Strauss clean the shears.
“I need to tell you something. Before I came to live here….” She tensed at Strauss’s prickly gaze. “If I tell you that I’ve been….” She chipped at her nail polish. “Do you remember when we first met at the library? What books you’d ask me to fetch for you?”
Strauss smiled sheepishly. “Trashy, graphically written, paperback romances.” She laughed. “We were so young. So innocent. So curious.” She giggled. “Mr. Gousa never would have fetched those for me had I asked.”
“Except, I wasn’t curious. I never had the chance to experience that curiosity… because….” Her eyes stung. She was shaking. “And any curiosity I may’ve had with Innit has gone.”
Kalon jumped to her feet as Strauss sank back into the nearest chair. She paced in her heels, picking her nails and avoiding direct eye contact. The glimpse of her friend in her peripherals was enough to see Strauss was processing and connecting the vagueness of her statements.
“Your grandparents–?”
“They aren’t my real grandparents. Gramps paid a single twenty note for me. That was all it took to save my life.”
“Then… the confusion over when their son died…?”
“It was shortly after leaving home, not just a handful of years ago.”
“Explains why you were not upset when you came to live here. And always looked as if someone slapped you across the face when they offered sympathies.” Strauss leaned into her hands, elbows propped on her knees, staring at the floor. “This is quite a lot to absorb.”
“I know.” Kalon eased into the chair next to her. “I’ve wanted to tell you for ages. It’s just… how?” She played with her unbuttoned top button. “I did not foresee a love bite being the catalyst. Though, I also didn’t foresee someone like Innit coming along.”
Strauss grew chilly. “Does this bloke of yours know about this?”
“He does. Not the explicit details, but he can imagine them well enough.”
“Oh, Kalon.” Strauss covered her mouth, exhaustedly. “He’s taking advantage then.”
“He’s not.” She shrunk away from Stauss’s glare. “I can promise you, that he isn’t.”
“Then, he’s marrying you?” She launched to her feet. “Has he asked? Have you spoken about it? Has he even told you he loves you?”
“H-he will!”
“Why should he?” She waved her hands at her in frustration. “What incentive does he have? You just leapt into bed with him, and let him do whatever! He can bolt anytime!” She gripped at her elbows. “And you let him know! You let this… this… stranger know your vulnerabilities, let him defile–.”
“Shut it, Strauss!” Kalon was up on her feet, breathing heavy. “I only just let you in on this. Don’t think you know a thing about it!”
She stormed outside, furiously wiping the tears streaming from her eyes. She stopped to collect herself once the library came into view. She forced a smile and trotted over to meet Innit out front, throwing her arms around him.
“You just saw me yesterday.” He frowned. “Your eyes look red.”
“Must’ve gotten hair in them when Stauss trimmed me.”
“I reckon that could make sense….”
She hugged his arm. “Help me with my rounds?”
“Just for a little.” He toyed with her fingers, keeping his eyes down. “I had something to look into.”
She did not ask for details, simply leading him into the library. She flashed a smile to Gramps as she dragged Innit by. She left him at the top of the stairs as she went to collect her bat, then ushered him off to the second floor.
She stopped wiping down spines with her dusting cloth once they reached a study alcove. She eased up on the desk, letting her boots lightly scrape the wooden floor as she kicked them. Innit had not spoken to her since they entered the library, and now was not looking her way at all. He made passive passes on the covers with his own rag.
“Is something the matter?”
“Just a lot on my mind, I reckon.” He allowed his arm to drop heavily. “I’m goin’ to let you get on with your chores. Reckon the old man will be cool with me campin’ down in the study hall without an escort?”
“Perhaps, but I would need to escort you to him so you could ask.”
“Could come back later….” He rubbed his mouth, musingly. “Ain’t much reason to hang ‘round right now.”
Kalon’s breath caught in her throat. She set her rag aside, clearing her throat loudly to gain his attention. She undid the third button on her cardigan.
“I wouldn’t say you have no reason to be here….”
“Well….” His eyes lingered before he tore them away to glance out from the alcove. “Can’t say it ain’t mighty temptin’.... I don’t know if I’m up for it. My mind just ain’t stoppin’ wanderin’.”
She grabbed his shirt, pulling him forward. She guided him down for a kiss, raking her painted nails over his head and across the back of his neck as he eagerly obliged. She turned her face, biting her lip. She squeezed her eyes shut as his fingers undid the rest of her cardigan.
“Stop!” She shoved him back. “Stop it!”
“What?” He looked around wildly. “What happened? Someone creep up on us?”
Kalon wiped the tears rapidly falling from her eyes, shaking her head.
His brow knitted. “Kalon, you all right?”
She nodded frantically. A whimper escaped her lips when she tried to verbalize that she was fine. She jumped, jolting straight at the touch on her chest, and crying anew when she saw it was Innit rebuttoning her sweater. He adamantly avoided eye contact.
“Am I practice?”
“Practice for what?” He held her shoulders, assessing the completely buttoned sweater, and still avoiding her gaze. “That’ll do it.”
“Do you like sleeping with me?”
Innit tensed and stepped back. “That sounds like a trap….”
“It’s not. I’m only asking because you never said so.”
He eyed her warily. “Thought it was plain as day. What’s with the questions? You ain’t actin’ like yourself.”
She shook her head, rubbing her forehead and biting her lip to stop the tears from coming back. She lunged for him as he tried to move even further away, snagging his shirt with both hands.
“Innit….”
He paused, inched nearer. He stroked her cheek, and kissed her.
“I’ll come back tonight. I really do got some stuff to look into. And, you….” He trailed off awkwardly. “Later. Okay?”
She did not answer more than bobbling her head. She did not trust to keep from sobbing.
---
The cardigan was discarded and replaced with a heavy, leather corset over what would have been a billowy tunic otherwise. She opted for the loosest to assure the top of her reddish bruise peek out; a reminder for Innit to look at. The tulle skirt she had worn she replaced with skin-tight pleather pants that had the other hem restitched with bright pink.
Kalon held her breath as she pulled the zipper up, exhaling once it reached the top. She flattened her hands on her stomach.
“Kalon! Vern says that boy is here again!”
She scrambled her hands over her vanity, hearing the knock on her door and the creak of it opening.
Grams looked her over, looked over at the outfit she had changed from. She pointed at the spiked choker in Kalon’s hands.
“Quite the accessory for a dinner date.”
“I doubt this is a date.”
Grams eyed her corsetline. “Really? Then, my suggestion is to wear it. Now, hurry or Vern will get cross.”
Kalon hastily fastened the choker on as she headed past Grams out of her room. Her ears picked up every heavy step of her spiked boots as she crossed through the library to the entrance.
The furrow on Gramps’s brow showed Kalon had taken too long. His unwelcoming stance coupled with his hand resting on his holstered pistol kept Innit hovering with a foot out the door.
“Ah, here she is. Off to eat, my dear?” Gramps looked pointedly at Innit. “Does your work allow you pocket money enough for a meal, or does my granddaughter need extra?”
“Bye, Gramps.” Kalon grabbed Innit’s arm and dragged him off. “Back in a bit!”
“I'm startin’ to reckon he don't think much of me….” Innit stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I can pay. I still got some money left.” He squirmed. “I ain't ever been to a restaurant. This ain't one of those places you see in magazines with crystal and gold forks, right?”
“Gold forks? What kind of magazine was this?”
“Some bridal thing. Can’t say what it was called with the cover missin’.”
Kalon’s heart leapt. She pried Innit’s hand from his pocket, lacing her fingers with his and leaning up against him. He pulled his arm away, wrapping it around her shoulders to give her an easier way to snuggle up to his side.
He flinched. “Forgot how pointy that necklace was.”
“I didn't mean to put it on.” She fingered a sharp spike. “Grams caught me holding it, and I panicked.”
“Here I was reckonin’ you were mad at me.”
“No, no, of course not! I just….”
She was aware of the tightness of her pants and heaviness of her corset. There was a threatening way her heels cracked against the stone walking path.
She broke from under his arm, briskly going to the corner where the path diverged. “All the cheapest, tastiest places are down this way. Come on, hurry it up. I'm starved!”
Kalon slowed her pace as she studied the awnings that separated the eateries from the rest of the identical, blanched stone buildings. The usual cafes for a quick bread were ruled out. The atmosphere needed more romance, but not to the point that Innit would start studying the forks to gauge what metal they were.
She chose a small eatery with spiced, buttery smells rolling out of the large, open windows. The tablecloths being a pale green–some with bleach stains–gave her a good feeling on the prices.
Innit looked around as they took their seats. “Seems crowded for such a small place.”
“But it’s quite quaint.” Kalon looked over her shoulder. “I believe it’s connected to the bunkhouse above. Some of the crowd must be guests coming and going.”
“Bunkhouse? Like a motel? Maybe I’ll check the prices.”
She smirked. “Is that so?”
“It’s closer to the library. I wouldn’t need to walk as far–.” He tinted red. “I meant for the next time I’m in town! For sleepin’. At night. After the hangin’ out.” He grabbed a menu. “They just list the food, right?”
She took her own menu, gazing over the top. She nudged his ankle with her toes, looking away as he shot her an accusatory glance.
The server bubblingly addressing them as sweethearts threw Innit off, so Kalon ordered for them. She felt his leg bouncing beneath the table, aware his eyes were slowly taking in each surrounding table. She rested her chin on her hand to hide her growing smile.
“You’re particularly handsome this evening.”
Innit jolted. “I’m…. Thanks?” He tugged at his worn shirt. “I-I didn’t change or anything….” He cleared his throat. “You too.” His eyes widened in horror. “Pretty. I meant you’re pretty. And I like those pants.”
“Really?” She pressed her hand to the tight pleather cutting into her stomach. “I thought you hated these?”
“Nah, I like watchin’ you walk ‘round in them. They’re just a pain to get off.” Innit shot a squirrely look at their server. “At least when I wear them.”
The server widened his eyes as if he had seen too much, lowering their food in front of them. He gave them a stiff smile, a nod, and hurried off with the air of needing to divulge a scandal.
Innit groaned into his hands. “All these townies’ll think I wear your clothes.”
She nudged his shin with her toe. “It was chivalrous.”
“Or now all y’all’ll reckon we’ve got a fetish and made it worse.” He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “We ain’t exactly discreet as is. That waiter picked up we have something goin’ on, and I ain’t ever seen him before.”
“You’re worrying too much.” She picked up her tea, holding it to her lips. “I dare say we won’t have to worry so much longer. Give them other things to talk about if they are talking at all. Which, I still doubt.”
“What sort of thing–?”
Kalon spit her tea onto the floor, coughing. She muttered apologies to Innit as he smacked her back wild-eyed, and muttered more to the server cleaning up.
“Ginger.” Kalon wiped her mouth. “I ordered ginger tea. That was chamomile. I can’t drink that.” She slumped against her chair, taking deep breaths. “Just water. Please.”
Innit eased back into his seat. His blue eyes were still wild, now darting around the restaurant, patrons, and table as if searching for anyone or anything that could cause harm, but not knowing what type of harm to expect.
Kalon urged him to eat, and sold the point by starting on her own food. She stared unseeingly at the plate on the table, munching. Fragments swirled in her head; licorice contains glycyrrhizin, chamomile is best avoided, canned fish shown to have high mercury, strenuous activities can be dangerous, listen to classical music.
“Kalon!”
She jumped, smiling apologetically. Innit’s tone suggested he had tried several times to engage her, and the knitting of his brow showed each failed attempt caused more fret.
“You ain’t actin’ normal. Did something happen?”
“I fought with my friend.”
She swallowed at the quickness she blurted that out. It did bother her when she thought on it, which she had been trying not to do since scaring Innit off earlier that day. She had never had more than a mild argument with Strauss, always on something meaningless in the end. Innit–and everything that went along with him–were not meaningless.
“Friends fight. Don't worry too much on it.”
“Do you and Khoa fight often?”
He gave her a perplexed stare. “Me and Khoa ain't friends, but, yeah, I reckon we do.”
“Strauss and I don’t fight. We have disagreements on things, but nothing like this.” She brushed the mark on her chest. “She saw this, and… I told her we’ve been intimate.”
Innit choked on his salad. “Why? Couldn’t you’ve lied, or something?”
Kalon pulled her loose top in an attempt to hide the bruise. Her hand shook. She bit her lip as her eyes stung.
“I-I told her, in few words, about what happened when I was a girl….”
His agitation ebbed, minus the leg bouncing that she could feel under the table. He lightly touched her hand, encouraging her to drop her fork to take his.
“I reckon it shocked her.” He rubbed her fingers gently. “It’ll be all right.”
“Have you ever told anyone?”
“Branch and Magpie. But, I reckon Magpie figured out something was wrong with me long before that.” Innit grimaced. “He’s got good eyes.” He gave her hand a squeeze before returning to his food. “Your friend ain’t as psychotic as mine were. It’ll be fine.”
“I didn’t tell her we had… similarities. I merely told her what happened to me–more or less–and that we’ve been–.”
“Ssh! Don’t need all y’all knowin’ what we get up to. Your grandpa carries a gun.”
She laughed lightly, going back to her food. She chased a crouton around. Innit was once more silent; his own eyes burning a hole through his bowl.
“Are you upset I told Strauss?”
“What?” He looked up with a start. “No.” He shrugged, returning to the remains of his food. “Reckon your judgement is good. If you think tellin’ her was right, it probably is.”
“Even telling her about us? Have you told anyone?”
He snorted. “Like who?”
“Khoa. Actually, no, that wouldn’t be wise.” She sucked on the end of her fork. “And Branch is too young….”
Innit scratched his fork across a soggy piece of lettuce. “The only person I might’ve said anything to, I can never talk to again.”
Kalon’s chest ached as she watched him return to being subdued. She would need to speak to Strauss tomorrow, even if she was still upset with her. It was unlikely either of them would die in the night, but she could not leave things how they were for long.
The last couple of months had made it easy for her to forget how Innit looked when they first met. He never spoke more than a few fragments here and there about his friend, and never about what it was like to lose him. All her whining about an argument with hers would have dredged up memories.
Kalon kept a polite smile on her face as their server wandered off with their dishes to fetch the bill. She let it drop at Innit’s picking of the table cloth.
“I don't believe you ever mentioned where it was you were staying? In town, yes? Surely not at Bex's.”
“Definitely not.”
Her heart jumped as he started fishing in his pocket. She frowned as he pulled out paper bills. She took off her spiked choker, muttering about the tightness and fiddling with it. She had done an excellent job of destroying the mood. She may have been able to salvage it after her panic if she had not blurted about her fight with Strauss.
She led him away from the eateries the opposite direction. The road ended at a large concrete clearing set before a massive building made up of long rectangles, those built by white bricks and capped with a dark, slate roof. The clearing was dimly lit by simple lamps made of glass and iron. There was a faint smell of earth from the cracks beneath their feet, showing that the concrete was made up of tiles that now had nature attempting to spring through.
“What is this place?”
“The palace.” Kalon snaked her arm with his. “Lovely, isn’t it? There’s a whole committee of residents that take care of it. Well, the outside. I’m told the inside has long been looted.”
She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as she watched the warm, lantern glow. There was a stiffness in his torso that had not been there during other outings. They were alone, so it had nothing to do with eyes upon them. She rubbed the ring finger of his left hand.
“Is something the matter?” She frowned as he stared into the night sky. “You seem preoccupied. You were distracted at the library earlier too.”
“Just got a lot on my mind.”
She felt his cheek. “You do look tired. Your mind must be keeping you up at night.”
He smiled weakly.
She took a longer route away from the palace, pausing outside the ruins of a cathedral and again at a natural rock formation dripping crisp water. She hesitated as the road forked; turn right and they would arrive outside the library complex, while left would delay this. There was nothing immediately to the left that would spark romantic notions. There was nothing of particular interest except the roundabout, but dragging Innit to gawk at an intersection was too desperate, and she had surpassed her limit in heels some time back.
“Uh, Kalon? You ain’t lost, are you?”
“Pardon?” She forced a laugh. “I live here.”
“Okay, okay, no need to get all defensive.” He pointed to the left. “I can just make out the traffic circle clearin’. I know how to get to my motel from there, and know how to get to the library from there.”
She glanced right, and took his hand. “Lead on.”
The walk was silent and mildly uncomfortable. Kalon was increasingly aware of the pain in her feet, the tightness of her pants cutting into her abdomen. She tried to be discrete as she tugged the waist and hold Innit’s hand, but there was little way he would not have noticed. Her heart kept skipping as she tried not to think of how she was ruining the moment once more.
Strauss called her practice, but she did not understand the connection she and Innit had. She would prove her wrong tomorrow when she went to apologize. She could admit her friend was worried, thank her for that worry, and then share her news.
“This is it.”
They stood outside a blanched brick and cobbled path building attached to several others. A sign was welded to the iron gate that separated the grounds from the narrow street: Turgot Rue Hotel.
“You’re so close.”
“You recognize where you are now?”
“If I’m honest, I did from the start.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I wanted to walk with you longer.”
He rested his hands on her hips, but the smile on his lips faltered. He lowered his eyes, his shoulders slumping.
“Kalon…. I got something important to say.”
Her heart fluttered, and she pulled him into a kiss.
-----------
Now the territory of 'what-if' but don't go too deeply and also 'character study' but also not that deep. Because of how they were abused, Kalon and Innit both wouldn't have the healthiest view/relationship/judgement with sex. Kalon for certain does go off, marry, have kids, ect. so there would be some differences in if it was some unknown guy verses if it was Innit, but either way the deciding to follow the passion would be a big deal, the letting someone get that close would be a big deal, but because I'm not going too deep, the moments leading up to that (Kalon would freak out and balk, not just go with it) I didn't include. Partly because the conversations are very different if random or if Innit, and I don't want to get attatched to either one. And all this goes for Innit too. Deciding it would be okay--or just getting too carried away to worry about everything might be more likely, lol--would be a huge deal, but since it's a 'what-if-ish' I didn't want to get attached to any character development that would happen, because he might not get that still. I'm also being vague with time because it gets jumbled in my head, but I'd say they've known each other six months, if that, and Innit vanished for probably two months or so.
If you think back on the Magpie 'what-if' (his what-if being more the ending part, because let's be real here) Innit tells Maggy in a quick sum-up how his relationship with Kalon came about. I'm also caught up again, but it is heading towards the end at long last.
Oh, and because I completely forgot to do this on the other 5 sections, Kalon has an AI song: Quiet Riot in the Library by WryBongo1833 | Suno
