He Drugged Me And Let Her Cut My Hair Chapter 05

He Drugged Me And Let Her Cut My Hair Chapter 05

The days after that phone call passed as quietly as a lake in autumn. 

There was none of the upheaval I had expected. 

I went to class, spent hours in the library, and showed up for Mock Trial practice. 

My life was simple, but it was also the best it had 

been in years. 

No mockery. No cruel jokes. No ugly comments muttered just loud enough for me to hear. 

Everyone was busy with their own lives. 

My short hair gradually grew down to my shoulders, and I started tying it back in a low ponytail with a plain black hair tie. 

Ethan didn’t call again. 

But long emails started showing up in my inbox. 

The first one arrived at dawn the day after our call. The subject line read: [I’m Sorry.] 

I opened it and read a few lines. 

[Ethan: Clara, I don’t even know what to say. 

I stood outside Hawthorne Hall for a long time yesterday. My breakfast went cold before I finally understood that you really weren’t coming down.] 

[Ethan: Redwood State. How could you have gone to Redwood State? Weren’t we supposed to go to Ashford City together?] 

[Ethan: I checked flights. The earliest one leaves at six tomorrow morning. I’m coming to find you. We’ll talk in person.] 

[Ethan: Wait for me.] 

I didn’t reply. 

I dragged the email into the trash. 

There was no message from him the next day. 

I figured he had probably come after all. 

But Redwood State was huge. There were too many freshmen. He wasn’t going to find me easily. 

The email on the third day was even longer. 

[Ethan: I’m here. Westhaven is hot. Not like 

Ashford City. I’ve been walking around your 

campus for three days. I’ve seen so many girls from behind who looked like you for a second, but 

none of them were.] 

[Ethan: I asked someone where the Arts building 

was. I’m sitting outside your building right now. If 

you see me, can you come down for a minute? 

Just five minutes.] 

[Ethan: I bought those sour cherry candies you used to like. I know you said you stopped eating 

candy, but I remember you actually loved them.] 

That afternoon after class, I did see him. 

He was sitting on the edge of the flower bed 

outside the Arts building, that handsome face of his drawing glances every few seconds. 

The September sun was still harsh. He squinted against the light, scanning the crowd coming and going, a small plastic bag pinched in his hand. 

I stopped walking. 

My roommates stopped too. 

“Clara,” one of them said quietly, “who’s that?” 

“A friend.” 

I kept my eyes on him. “You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up.” 

They looked at me, then at the boy in the distance who clearly looked like he hadn’t slept properly in 

days. Then they nodded and left. 

I walked toward Ethan. 

The second he saw me, he shot to his feet. His 

eyes lit up for a split second, then dimmed again. 

His gaze moved over me from head to toe. His lips. 

parted, but no sound came out. 

I stopped about two steps away from him. 

“Ethan,” I said calmly. 

“Clara.” He finally found his voice, hoarse as if his 

throat were filled with gravel. “You cut what 

happened to your hair.” 

“Yeah.” 

“It looks good.” He forced out a smile and held out 

the bag. “I brought you the drops.” 

“I don’t eat candy anymore.” 

I didn’t take it. 

“What did you want?” 

The smile on his face froze. His hand slowly 

dropped back to his side. 

He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. 

“I just wanted to see you. And tell you…” He 

swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. For 

your hair. For the vote. For Founders‘ Day.” 

“That’s all over now,” I said, cutting him off. 

“It’s not over.” 

He said it so suddenly and so loudly that a few 

people nearby turned to look. He lowered his voice 

at once, the words tumbling out in a desperate 

rush. 

“Clara, it’s not over for me. I can’t get past it. Every 

night I dream about you crying and asking me 

why. I keep seeing your hair the way it looked that 

day, all mutilated.” 

His voice shook. 

“I can’t do this anymore. I know I was wrong. I really do. Just give me one more chance. We can start over, okay? I swear, I promise, I’ll never-” 

“Ethan.” 

I interrupted him again. My voice stayed calm. 

“We never started. So how could we start over?” 

He went completely still, as if the breath had been 

sucked out of him. 

“I always thought we were together,” he said at 

last, in a broken whisper. “I thought… I thought it was understood. Since we were kids.” 

“That was your assumption.” 

I looked him straight in the eye. 

“To me, it was just years of me chasing a shadow while you barely tolerated my existence.” 

“That’s not true.” He said it quickly, voice thick with panic. “I wasn’t tolerating you. I just… I just…” 

“You just thought I was embarrassing. You thought I wasn’t good enough for you, so you kept me at arm’s length at school. That’s why you could let Sabrina cut my hair. Why you could ruin my interview. Why every time it came down to her or 

me, you chose her.” 

I said every word clearly, without crying, without 

anger, without breaking. 

I was only stating the truth. 

“Ethan, I don’t blame you anymore. I mean that. 

But I don’t want anything to do with you either.” 

I took a breath. 

“The engagement is off. We’re even now.” 

I turned to leave. 

“Clara!” 

He called after me, his voice already breaking. 

“What if I change? What if I really change? I’ll stop 

talking to Sabrina. I’ll be good to you from now on. 

I’ll make it public. I’ll tell everyone you’re my 

girlfriend.” 

“It’s too late.” 

I didn’t look back. 

“And I don’t need that anymore.” 

The early autumn wind in This city lifted the loose 

strands of hair off my shoulders. 

“I’m doing well now. Better than I ever was with you. A thousand times better. Ten thousand.” 

I kept walking. 

“So please,” I said, “don’t come bother me again.” 

I never turned around, so I didn’t see how long he 

stayed there after I left. 

I didn’t see him slowly crouch down and bury his 

face in his hands. 

I didn’t see him throw away the bag of candy in the end, then walk off unsteadily into the fading light.