I’m sorry, my pet, I tell it silently. I know I promised that I wouldn’t hurt you. It was her idea. Not mine.
“Alli, you’re going to be fine,” Sara says impatiently. “Beauty comes with a price.” I can hear a tiny bit of sympathy in her voice now, though. Because of that, I wonder if I’m bleeding down there.
“Not now, Sara,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m apologizing to my vagina.”
Waxer-Girl laughs aloud now, and I glare at her. She averts her gaze instantly and applies more wax.
Holy Sheep Shit.
“How many rounds of wax does this usually take?” I manage to ask finally.
Pat, pat, pat.
Riiiiiiippppppp.
I’m literally sweating now. I think I’m pale too, like all of the color has leached out of my skin. This waxer girl from hell has taken my pigment along with my pubes, apparently.
“I don’t know,” Waxer Girl From Hell answers cheerfully. “Several.”
Seven rounds later, I am drenched through to the bone. Sweat pours off my forehead and I think I am shaking uncontrollably. I’m also weeping in my head.
Waxer-Girl finally tells me, “Okay, that should do it. Now I need you to turn over.”
I twist around and look at her. Turn over??
“And spread your butt cheeks.”
I think I faint.
I do.
I definitely faint.
Because when I wake up, I have been turned over onto my stomach and Sara is holding my butt cheeks open.
“What the hell?” I screech, trying to get up.
“Do it!” Sara yells to Waxer-Girl. “Hurry up!”
Riiiiiiipppppppp.
I might never walk again.
Chapter Nine
(Or: There is a reason why God created razors)
“I can’t believe you did this to me,” I moan as I hobble out to Sara’s car. Thank god she told me not to wear jeans. I wouldn’t be able to tolerate anything rubbing against my girl right now. And by girl, I of course mean my vagina.
Sara, Miss Masochism herself, is marching briskly along like she didn’t just have her pubic hairs all yanked out.
“I also can’t believe that it didn’t hurt you like it hurt me and that you also held my butt cheeks apart with your bare hands. What is wrong with you??”
I try to glare at her but am interrupted by the shooting pains originating from my vaginal region when I try to sit in Sara’s car.
“Owwwwww!” I howl. “Holy shit, I think I’m going to die. How am I going to sit in my office chair tomorrow?”
I curl carefully onto my side, balancing precariously on one butt cheek, trying to avoid any and all pressure on my private parts.
Sara glances at me. “It doesn’t hurt nearly so much after the first time,” she tells me. “And I held your butt cheeks apart because I thought it would be best to have her finish while you were out.”
“Yes!” I hiss. “I passed out. Shouldn’t that have told you something? Like it hurt too effing much to continue, maybe? Owwwww!” I howl again.
By this time, passersby are staring at us in concern. I roll my window up.
Sara turns up the radio so she doesn’t have to hear me complain.
And then I give up and internally sob for the rest of the drive to my house instead.
“See you at lunch?” Sara asks cheerfully as I crawl carefully out of her car and into my driveway.
I growl in response and she drives away.
I hobble into my house, digging for a bag of frozen peas and collapse onto a loveseat in the living room with the bag firmly planted between my legs.
Since every light in the house is off, I am guessing that Sophie has gone down the street to her best friend Hayley’s house. I am safe lying here like this for a while.
I close my eyes.
And I must drift off because I am awakened by a male voice.
“Alli, are you alright?”
My eyes fly open to find Shade standing above me.
I am confused.
“Am I dreaming?” I ask groggily. He smiles, like an angel or something equally as beautiful.
“No. I texted you. I left my watch by your pool- I just realized it today. I texted you a few times and you didn’t answer, so I texted Sophie and asked if I could stop by and get it. I hope that’s okay. I saw you from the window so I just walked in your door. It was open.”
What the hell? People can see me lying here with peas on my crotch from the window??
I look in that direction in alarm and quickly sit up, wincing in pain as I do.
“What’s wrong?” Shade asks in concern, bending down to examine me.
“Don’t,” I push him away self-consciously. “It’s nothing.”
My cheeks flush and I am dying of embarrassment. Beautiful, perfect Shade doesn’t need to know what I just did to my vagina.
“You had a Brazilian, didn’t you?” he asks knowingly, as he straightens back up.
Correction. I only thought I wanted to die before. In actuality, I want to die now.
I nod pitifully.
He shakes his head and scoops me up, carrying me easily.
“Which way to your bedroom?” he asks. I point and he carries.
“Do you have aloe?” he asks, sitting me carefully on my bed.
I nod. “In the hall closet.”
He leaves to get it and closes my bedroom door behind him when he returns.
“In case Sophie comes home,” he explains.
Good idea.
He approaches me again and bends, wriggling my skirt up gently. With the most feather-light of touches, he applies the aloe. And I do feel better.
He straightens.
“Do you have any tea bags?”
I stare at him. What kind of question is that?
“In the kitchen,” I answer uncertainly.
He ducks out. And then returns a few minutes later with some soaking wet teabags on a saucer. I eye him with a raised and suspicious eyebrow.
“Trust me,” he says. “This will make you feel better. We just have to let them cool for a bit.”
He sets the saucer next to me and then examines my poor, bald vag area. And I do have to admit that it looks amazing, even though it feels like freaking hell.
“It would be a good idea to get some tea-tree oil tomorrow,” he tells me, as he sits down next to me “It prevents any ingrown hairs. Whatever possessed you to get this done?”