The Guy on the Right (The Underdogs 1)

“Stop it! Damn it, Devin! You aren’t supposed to even run with scissors, let alone get tackled with them!”

My mom is howling with laughter behind us as Devin manages to get them from me and stands pointing them in my direction as if I’m the threat.

I stand, ass bruised and back on fire, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You gonna stand guard all night, Red Rover, ‘cause my mind’s made up!”

“If I have to,” Devin challenges, not one bit intimidated.

“I need to cut my hair! I need a change!”

Devin lifts the open tampon box on my bathroom counter and raises a brow. “You need Midol, possibly a Xanax, and to sleep on this decision for about a week. Until then, these belong to me.”

I glare at my mother.

“This is funny to you?” Tears fill my eyes. “I’m a joke to you two?”

“I’m sorry, little woman, but I agree. You’re a hot ass mess.” She comes toward me, and I shake my head, lifting my chin defiantly to ward them off.

Devin turns back to grin at her. “Remember that time she tried to dye her hair blonde with

peroxide and came out looking like a leopard?”

“I meant to do that,” I snap through watery eyes. “I was going through an Animal Planet phase.”

“Oh God, how about when she shaved it on one side!” My mom supplies through a light laugh of her own.

“I wanted it to look like Pink’s!” I toss my hands up. “Have you seen that woman’s hair? It’s glorious!”

“Or the other time she tried to give herself dreads so she could be country chic,” Devin says, keeping in conversation as they both completely ignore me. “She washed her hair with raw eggs!”

“That’s what I read to do online! I go through hair phases. Everyone does.”

Devin looks back at me, determination in her voice. “Laney, the only thing you love about your appearance lately is your hair, and you are not cutting it because you got your heart broken. It will break ten times worse when you wake up and realize your mistake.”

I raise my wobbling chin a notch further. “What are you even doing here anyway? Didn’t we marry you off? Aren’t you supposed to be ironing and cooking right now?”

She rolls her eyes. “Maybe if I got married in the ‘50s? Chase is the one that cooks most nights. And who irons anymore? Besides, with comments like that, I know you’ve really lost it.”

“I have not!” I defend. “I’m fine.”

“You’re an undeclared feminist who just told me to go play June Cleaver! You’re hurting, and I won’t let you take it out on your hair!”

“I-I-I-I’m not,” my voice cracks, “I’m not…” sad, miserable, heartbroken, “myself,” I cry out as my face falls.

“Shit,” Devin murmurs, capturing me in her arms just as I break. My mom is right behind her as they both wrap around me with words of comfort. And I cry. I cry so hard I cover them both in snot. When I’m finally able to breathe, I pull away spotting Max as he walks in looking at us like the lunatics we are before scoffing and walking out.

“H-he-he won’t talk to me. He’s just,” I hiccup, “he’s done. H-h-how am I supposed to do this?”

“This is just phase one. You know all the hell hounds I went through to get to Chase. We might not put up with bullshit long, Laney, but the pain is still the same. I’ve been where you are. You can’t force him.”

“But I loved him, I loved him the best way I knew how, why wasn’t that good enough?”

Both their eyes fill, and I shake my head. “Cut it out right now. Both of you.”

“Shit, she finally did it,” Devin whispers to my mother who gazes on at me. “I’m so proud of you. You finally opened yourself up—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’ve been conquered. Now how do I get him back?”