Are You Sure?--Spanna
Everyone had been surprised when Hanna had decided halfway through college that instead of going into fashion, she wanted to be a hair stylist. Her mother had tried to talk her out of it, while her girlfriend had been perplexed but supportive. There had been a couple of rough years where they’d been mostly living off of Spencer’s paychecks while Hanna brought in very little, but things were better now. In fact, things were great.
Last year, Hanna had been hired to be a Broadway hair stylist. She’d worked on some of the biggest names in the business, and she’d gotten high praise from many stars. Today, however, she had her toughest client yet. Spencer.
In the entire time she’d known Spencer, the brunette had always had long hair. She had never seen the other woman with hair that didn’t reach past the bottom of her bra. Then last night Spencer had nervously approached her girlfriend and asked if she’d cut her hair. Hanna had agreed, halfway expecting Spencer to back out. But here they were, with Spencer on a chair in the middle of the kitchen.
“We should move to the bathroom. This is gross. We’re going to get hair all over the kitchen,” Spencer complained. Hanna shook her head.
“There’s not enough room in the bathroom. Don’t worry, I’ll sweep up the hair,” she promised. Spencer pursed her lips. She’d heard that story before. When Hanna had started out, she’d practiced on friends in their apartment. Spencer couldn’t count the number of times she’d come home to find bits of hair that Hanna had missed.
“Okay, we’re just going to start by washing your hair,” Hanna said, moving the chair over to the kitchen sink. She adjusted the water to the right temperature and began rinsing Spencer’s hair. She squeezed a dollop of shampoo into the palm of her hand and lathered up her girlfriend’s long, thick locks. Once she’d finished rinsing and conditioning, she gently combed out Spencer’s hair. She was always surprised by how healthy the brunette’s hair was. Usually if she worked on hair this long, the ends were split and unhealthy.
“Are you sure? We can still turn back,” Hanna warned. Spencer shook her head.
“I’m sure. I want to do this. Just promise me you won’t make fun of me if it doesn’t look good,” she said. Hanna rolled her eyes.
“First off, I would never make fun of you for how you look. Second, you’re going to look great. Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you look bad,” Hanna said. Spencer smiled. She had absolute trust in her girlfriend, it was her own reaction she worried about.
“Okay. Let’s do this,” Spencer said. Hanna raised the scissors and made the first cut. A lock of hair fell to the floor. Then another, and another, and another.
Twenty minutes later, Hanna stepped back triumphantly.
“All done! Are you ready to see it?” she asked. Spencer stood up, a nervous look on her face. She’d never had short hair and she was terrified. She followed Hanna to the bathroom and flicked on the light.
“Oh! It… It looks good,” she said, surprised. Hanna rolled her eyes again.
“Of course it looks good. I cut it,” she pointed out. Spencer ignored her, admiring her hair in the mirror. It wasn’t too short, especially as far as the average person was concerned. It barely brushed her shoulders when allowed to fall in its natural curls. If straightened, it would fall against her shoulders.
“It feels so light,” Spencer commented. Hanna nodded. She often heard that from clients cutting their hair for the first time, and she had experienced it herself when she’d bobbed her hair in high school.
“Do you like it?” Hanna asked. Spencer nodded and kissed her girlfriend.
“I love it. It looks great, Han,” she said. Hanna grinned, proud of herself. Spencer turned back to the mirror to look at her hair.
“Are you forgetting something?” Spencer asked, looking at Hanna over her shoulder. Hanna huffed in annoyance.
“I know, I know. I’m going,” she said, leaving to sweep up the hair.
“I better not find a single hair on that floor!” Spencer called after her. She smiled at herself in the mirror. If she’d known how much she’d like having shorter hair, she’d have cut it years ago.
With one final look in the mirror, Spencer left to monitor her girlfriend and make sure everything was being swept properly. Maybe she’d even help out a little. Or, maybe she’d just watch while running her fingers through her hair.