Chapter Text
The stares in the supermarket only made Dahlia feel more self-conscious. What a day.
She felt her botched haircut through her fingers. Why did she try bleaching her hair again?!
Oh, right, I'm an impulsive idiot, she thought.
Dahlia's hair was shaved clean of the bleached strands, but she felt how uneven it was and it made her blush. She had chosen a guard that had been chipped away during her move to Texas, but didn't realize it until it was too late. She also didn't have enough time to fix it before she had to report to the elementary school where she worked.
She knew she was in trouble when the kids she saw that day poorly hid their snickering.
Looking in her pocket mirror, Dahlia cringed. Her hair looked so bad.
"Sorry, bad hair day," she called to a bystander that couldn't stop gawking at her.
"I could fix that, you know," came a masculine voice from behind her.
It was soft and sweet, but still made her jump out of her skin.
Dahlia turned to face the man.
He was a short, fat man who had to have been an inch or two smaller than her, even when not counting her tall, platformed boots. He was also balding, which made the goth girl a little perplexed as to how he would have any expertise in the art of hair styling.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he continued, giving a meek chuckle. "I'm Bill. Bill Dauterive. I'm a barber for the Army."
Dahlia have a small smile. "Hi, Bill, I'm Dahlia. I just moved to Arlen from Tennessee."
Bill extended his hand for her to shake. She obliged.
"I kinda had a feeling you were new here, I haven't seen you around." Bill flashed her a genuinely warm smile. "What brings you to Arlen? And...what happened to.."
Dahlia grinned. "My hair? Oh, I tried bleaching it last night. Wanted to dye it a lighter shade of purple. Obviously my hair melted, and-"
The man finished her sentence for her. "You shaved it. Only problem is, you're not in my shoes, and don't know that there is an art to shaving hair."
Dahlia giggled. "Yeah, I guess so. Well, I can't change the past. And to answer your other question, I moved here for a change of scenery. And a job transfer. But you say you can fix my hair for me?"
Bill cleared his throat. "I can't do it at the base, though. They'd be awfully suspicious if a civilian showed up there. It's not the first time it's happened...Would it be okay if I did it at my house?"
Dahlia pondered. A strange man, offering her a hair cut, at his own house, in a town she barely new...
Ah, what the hell.
"That would be perfectly fine, Mr. Dauterive. When can I make an appointment?"
"You can call me Bill. I'm free this evening, if you're able. You probably want to take care of that as soon as possible..."
Dahlia felt warm with the man, even if she didn't know him.
"Okay, Bill. You've...got yourself a deal."
They both chuckled. Dahlia would usually cringe at her own stupid jokes, but she actually felt at ease with the guy.
They exchanged numbers, with Bill giving her his address. "It shouldn't be too hard to find, just look for four old guys having a beer on the sidewalk. That's my street."
Dahlia beamed. "Thank you, Bill. I'll see you there!"
Bill's house was a modest one-story building. Surely enough, Dahlia had found the place by looking for four dudes drinking alcohol by a fence. Bill stood at the end of the lineup and waved enthusiastically as he saw her.
"See, Hank, I told you she'd come," he mentioned to a tall man standing by him. The bespectacled man gave a small, nervous laugh.
Dahlia exited her vehicle, giving a shy wave to the other three men. "Hi, Bill, and others."
The three men simply nodded their heads in response. She didn't take offense, though. She was aware she wasn't exactly dressed in the most Texan way. She glanced down at her outfit. Black sleeveless dress with Peter Pan collar, platform boots, striped tights...
At least the kids she counseled liked it.
She noticed another man standing by Bill, in a black tee-shirt, staring at her head.
Shit! She had forgotten about that.
"Don't worry, fellas, I'm fixing it." Bill motioned for Dahlia to follow him. "Lucky for you, I have some extra Barbicide in my kitchen..."
Dahlia could feel the leers of the three neighbors of Bill following them as she went inside. She chose to ignore it.
Her new acquaintance had set up a barber's chair in his kitchen, complete with a towel draped over it. Dahlia sat in the seat, holding still for Bill to clasp a drape around her neck.
"Thank you, you have nooo idea how itchy I've been today..." The goth mourned as she became painfully aware of the chunks of hair lodged in her bra.
"I'll have you looking sharp in no time," softly said Bill, "even if it's a little odd in this town for a woman to have her head shaved and she's not in the military."
She grinned. "Yeah, I got that impression."
Bill went to work, and soon, Dahlia's hair was nice and even.
"Here, what do you think?" Bill handed her a small mirror.
"Wow, you weren't kidding!" She didn't see a single hair out of place, or uneven. "No wonder you knew you could do it. You're amazing!"
The man turned red. "Aww, well, it's my passion!"
Dahlia pulled out her black wallet. "How much do I..."
Bill crossed his arms. "Oh, no need! Consider it a welcome gift!"
The woman felt her head. It felt so nice and soft.
"Thank you so much, Bill. You know, I don't know any hair stylists here...would you care if we made this a common thing?"
Bill beamed, looking earnestly happy and proud. "Well, sure! I wouldn't mind that. I could use the company!"
Dahlia returned his warmth. "I could, too. Other than my kids, I don't have any friends here, really. Yet."
Bill looked puzzled. "Kids?"
"Oh, no, they aren't mine biologically! I am a counselor at Roger Staubach Elementary."
She thought she saw the man give a sigh of relief.
"Is that what brought you to Arlen?" asked Bill.
"Yeah, I was getting tired of where I was. I was in the middle of nowhere, basically. They offered me a transfer to Texas and I thought it would be fun." She flashed a weak grin. "You know, you think I'd miss home, but I don't. I needed a reset."
Bill nodded. "I get it."
The two stood in silence for a moment. Then, Bill spoke.
"Ever been to Whataburger? I'm starving."
Dahlia perked up, realizing she hadn't eaten all day. She was in the middle of buying dinner at the grocery store and then, of course, ran into her new friend.
"I've always wanted to try that place!" Dahlia threw her bag around her shoulder. "Do you wanna go? I'll buy. I insist."
Bill smiled so big that his tiny eyes squinted, making him look jolly and cute.
"You don't have to ask me twice!"
Neither of them knew it yet, but they could feel it. This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.