48

Sienna got ready in her bedroom, deliberately avoiding her overly concerned mother. Looking into her mirror, she adjusted her hair for the final time. Then, after a second thought, fixed it one more time.

Last night she had googled the term, 'goth girl hairstyles,' and showed the picture to the only late opening hairdressers. Her hair was now a silky blue-black with a sharp fringe and much shorter and choppier. She'd put a skull-shaped hairclip in to match the model but worried it didn't look right on her.

Using the same picture as a reference, she replicated the girl’s make-up, with smoky eyes and lips so dark they were almost black, hoping to emulate the look.

Staring into the mirror, it was as if somebody else was looking back at her. She liked it.

'But will he like it?' she wondered.

Since her brain had started working again, there was only one person on it... and thankfully it wasn't Adrian.

After a final panic in front of the mirror, she left the house, saying a brief goodbye to her mother and brothers. She walked alone, listening to music with her head down. A song she'd found ridiculously abrasive at first was now her favourite—Super Tuesday by Leftover Crack. As she listened to the lyrics, she made a mental note to research the meaning of the line 'world trade is a death machine,' so she'd have something to talk about with Damien... if he ever spoke to her again.

She was determined he would, no matter what it took.

As she researched the lyrics of the song, she found out Leftover Crack were playing at Download in a few weeks.

'I could go to Download!' she thought. 'I could go to Download... with Damien.'

It occurred to Sienna that she was getting ahead of herself, but she couldn't help it. She'd always been this way, making plans involving other people without even consulting them. She would get so excited about these plans it made it difficult for people to say no.

'Am I a control freak?' she worried as she arrived at the school gates.

She'd half expected him to fall over himself when he saw how different she looked, but his eyes weren't the slightest bit surprised as he looked at her with a blank expression.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"You're always sorry," Damien said.

"And you always forgive me," Sienna said quietly, eyes pleading.

His face darkened into a scowl as he took a step back and turned away, shaking his head in disgust.

"Please, Damien," she cried, chasing after him. "Please forgive me. I was an idiot. I know that now. I'm so sorry."

With a sigh, Damien grabbed her hand and swiftly led her to the back of the science building. There was a private little crevice that existed in a blind spot, unseen by the windows above. A little area where couples could make out and delinquents would spark up.

Once the pair were alone Damien pinned her with a moody glare. A look that said, 'Say what you have to say and then leave me alone forever.'

The thought of not being with him made her sick. Her throat clogged up and her heart raced, terrified at the thought he could easily say no.

Maybe his recent kindness hadn't signalled any deeper feelings. Maybe he still hated her deep down.

'I can't exactly blame him.'

She felt a love for him that wasn't based on looks or chemistry or status. He was amazing. Smart, cool, kind.

'He's sexy too,' she thought, remembering her reaction to him as he'd played the guitar.

Looking at his lips, she knew her heart would wither and die if she never got the chance to kiss them.

As much as she wished she could lean forward and kiss him, the angry look on his face told her it wasn't the way to go.

"I let Adrian control me and it was just... stupid," Sienna said. "I don't even know what I saw in him. I should have realised it sooner."

"To be fair… Adrian fooled me too," Damien said, his face beginning to soften. “I don’t think anyone could have predicted his behaviour spiralling out of control like it did. I still can’t believe Tom is really dead.”

“I know.” Sienna looked down. She had shed her tears over Tom, and almost felt bad for moving on with her life.

‘But it wasn’t like I ever had a chance with Tom,’ she thought. ‘I need to take my chances while I’m still alive. We owe that to ourselves.’

"Will you give me a second chance?" she asked. It may technically be a third chance, but she hoped he wasn't counting.

"Why?" he asked. "You don't have to impress Adrian anymore so why not go back to your little red riding hood gang."

"Little red—?" Sienna frowned.

Damien laughed, looking at her as though she was slow. "Yeah... you guys are the little red riding hoods. Sienna, Rose, and Scarlett. Get it?"

Sienna hadn't heard anyone refer to her group in such a way before. It was weird to think about how other groups perceived them. She's always labelled Damien and his lot 'the freaks,' but didn't think this was the moment to drop that nugget of information.

"I don't want to be with them," Sienna said, being as honest as she could. "I want to be with you."

She wasn't as good at poker as Scarlett, but she wanted to lay all her cards on the table—go 'all in' so to speak.

"I... I have feelings for you. I can’t stop thinking about you and… I think I might love you," she said, staring at his boots. When he didn't say anything, she looked up slowly, terrified to see the expression on his face.

She breathed a sigh of relief, relieved it was shock and not disgust or horror.

"You have my heart in your hands," she told him. "If you ever wanted to get revenge on me, now is the time."

The thought of him stomping all over her feelings made her heart feel as though it was about to explode.

"Please," she whined. "Please say something."

His expression was full of pity as he placed his hands on her cheeks, the tips of his fingers feeling her shiny dark hair. As he leaned in to kiss her his expression didn't change.

'Is this going to be a 'sorry I don't feel that way,' peck or a full-on kiss?' she wondered, as time seemed to slow down.

When their lips met and their eyes closed, she felt the spark and the flurry of butterflies, finally getting what the romance novels were talking about. As his tongue found hers, she understood, with glorious relief, that this was most definitely a romantic kiss.

After he pulled away, she chuckled, seeing her dark lipstick smeared over his lips. As she wiped at it with her thumb, he hooked his fingers into her belt loops and pulled her into him crotch first. She could feel the hardness in his trousers as he moved his hands to her bum and pressed her body against his.

"Mine," he said as he looked down at her, moving in for a second kiss. One of his hands slid up and into her hair as he kissed her with more force, pushing her up against the wall.

Sienna hadn't ever seen Damien kiss a girl before, so it came as a shock that he was so forceful. A good shock. She felt herself becoming wet as he explored her body with his hands, pressed up to her with his leg between hers.

He pulled away.

"No sorry, I'm not looking for a relationship right now," he said.

For a soul destroying second, she thought that he was serious—that history was repeating itself. Then she saw the silly grin on his face.

"I kid!" he cried, throwing up his hands.

"You are so mean sometimes, Damien," she scolded him, but she couldn't keep the lovesick smile from her face.

"I'm sorry I gave your glove back," she said, dropping the massive hint that she wanted it back.

"I can give you something better," he offered.

He removed one of the chunky silver rings from his little finger and took her hand. The ring featured a symbol—something that made her think of witchcraft or runes. She smiled down, almost feeling as if it were a proposal as he slid the ring into her finger.

Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled little glove, still inside out from when she had passed it to him.

When she put the ring and glove on, he looked her up and down, nodding to himself with a half-smile.

"I'm liking the new look. It suits you well," he said.

Sienna played with a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear, blushing. "Thank you."

He took her hand in his and they walked to class as a couple. There would be questions, stares, and she could imagine the comments people would make. It didn’t matter.

Only Damien mattered.