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came, her whole body stiffening, arching up off
the floor.
    She melted into my embrace, her chest heaving. I
inched up next to her and she smoothed my hair with her gentle
hands.
    “So much for your chignon,” she
said.
    I looked up at her, lifting my head from her chest
where I’d pillowed it on her breasts. “If I asked you to dye my
hair, would you?”
    Her hands stilled. “You just changed the color a few
days ago.”
    This was going to hurt, but I had an idea. On her
desk last night I’d spotted a garish orange and black invitation to
a Halloween ball. It was from one of her big clients, someone who
liked to invite his favorite freelancers to all the company bashes.
I knew Alex hadn’t really intended to go. She liked to stay in most
of the time. That’s something I didn’t realize about her until we
started seeing each other. I’d only ever seen her at the
bookstore.
    I wanted to go to this party.
    “I want to dye it a dark brown,
like yours.”
    She flinched, a better reaction than I’d expected.
She loved my hair being wild colors, the sort of shades she’d never
dared do herself. I wondered why. It wasn’t like she worked in an
office or had to punch a time clock.
    I reached up and tweaked a lock of her dark hair
where it lay in a halo round her head. “And when you’ve done mine,
I’ll do yours.”
    “Mine?” She pushed herself up on
her elbows and I sat back, leaning against the vanity.
    “It’s the Review’s Halloween party
in a few days,” I said. “I thought we should go.”
    “I never go.” She sat up fully,
her brow furrowed. So much for post-orgasmic bliss. I thought for
sure she’d agree, with all the happy endorphins bopping around in
her system. Not that I’d use sex as a means of getting my own way,
but it would have been useful.
    “But it’ll be great--I already
have an idea for our costumes!” I squeezed her hand and shook it
almost maniacally, and finally she cracked a smile.
    “I’m glad you do, because I never
know what to be.”
    “You’ll be me.”
    “You?”
    “And I’ll be you.”
    “I don’t know.” Her smile faded to
pensiveness.
    I pushed myself to my feet, my hair flying back in a
wild wave. I’m sure I looked ridiculous--stark naked, pale but for
my tattoos, the splash of stars that run from my ribcage and down
over my bony left hip.
    “Remember when you first came to
New York and joined the punk scene?” I knew; I’d read about it in
one of her notebooks. I reached down and pulled her to her feet.
She gathered her robe and tied the sash, but she wasn’t going
anywhere, so at least I’d intrigued her.
    “I’ll dye your hair purple with
pink streaks and we’ll go raid some thrift shops to find us both
some clothes.”
    “It’ll be like Freaky Friday,” she
said, drawing me close. The velvet and satin of her dressing gown
was soft against my breasts. She stroked the small of my back,
sending shivers down my spine. “I don’t think I want to relive my
youth, Vee.”
    My heart sank. It was such a good idea. “Please,
Alex? It won’t be permanent.” I bent and opened the cabinet of the
vanity, pulling out all the hair color I’d purchased on a whim.
Dark auburn for me. Purple and pink for her.
    She lifted the packet of pink hair color and read
the label. I could feel her wavering. She finally sighed and shook
her head, handing me the dye.
    “If it doesn’t come out, do you
promise to pay for a trip to the salon?”
    I felt my grin nearly split my face. “Anything.”
    ***
    Oh, Vee. I don’t think I was meant to find this
quite so soon. I have a feeling you were going to come back to this
notebook while I was in my office, writing, but it has been a busy
few days.
    Right now you’re asleep, sprawled out in bed,
oblivious to the world. You sleep like a child still, though you
are an adult. Is it because you’re so carefree? I can just see the
back of your head from my spot in the worn leather armchair you
love so much. Your dark auburn