Page 65 of Lost & Found

She hummed to the music as she twirled my damn pubic hair into two pigtails. Then she gave me a haircut. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die from the humiliation. If Sebastian ever found out about this, he would mock me forever.

“Look, we got about two inches off. This will make it so much easier. Trust me on this one,” she said with a huge grin.

This moment can’t get any worse. It can’t, really.

“There isn’t a way for me to make it not hurt. Some are more sensitive than others, but if you need a break, we can take one. Just let me know at any time.”

How bad was this going to be? It couldn’t be that bad, or people wouldn’t get them done. I’ve survived much worse in life. Maybe she was exaggerating so that when it came time I would be like, that’s it?

I was wrong.

So goddamn wrong, it wasn’t even funny. Nadine positioned my right leg first. Within seconds, I was transformed into a flamingo, splayed out. My hoo-ha exposed for the entire world to see. Okay, only Nadine was seeing it, but still.

“And now the wax,” she said.

I jumped as the hot wax was spooned on but relaxed when I realized it wasn’t burning, just a warming sensation. Then she put the paper on. As she rubbed back and forth to make it adhere, I tried to ignore how awkward it was.

Why do people willingly choose to do this?

“Ready?” She grinned.

I nodded and inhaled deeply, bracing myself. She ripped the first strip off.

My body damn near levitated off the table at the excruciating pain. “Holy. Fucking. Shit.” My eyes filled with tears. My heart jack hammered inside my chest as I tried to catch my breath.

“I’m sorry, I know. The first one is the worst,” she offered.

My vision reluctantly returned to normal just in time for the next pull. Another deep breath and more ripping. The entire room spun, and spots appeared.

Stay conscious, stay alert. Why had I sent Kinsley away? I could use her right now to hold my fucking hand. This was so not worth it. Not a masochist. At least not like that. Cross it off the list.

Nadine continued to pull what felt like the top layers of my skin off with each pull. “Breathe, Isabella,” she instructed.

“How much more?” I panted, refusing to look at the strips she pulled away.

“We’ve done the first half. Now we need to reposition you.”

Which she went about doing, and I heaved.

Only halfway done? Did I have time to ask the girls to grab a cover-up? Could I be a one-sided beastly monster and forgo this bullshit?

No, that would look stupid. Who is going to be looking anyway? Pasha was going to ask about it, but it wasn’t like I had to prove it. If he knew I only did one side, he’d tease the shit out of me. Best to push through.

Nadine continued about her business. Like this was the most damned normal thing ever, despite my grimaces, winces, and yelps. At one point, she had to hold down my thighs as I reflexively pulled them shut in pain. She was lucky her head didn’t get vice-gripped between my knees.

“I’m going to need to get in closer on the labia. It’s the most sensitive.”

“Huh?” I cried.

A cosmetic mirror with extreme zoom and the brightest light I’d ever seen was soon shining between my legs. She was joking; she had to be. But no, my lady bits were now being examined with a magnifying mirror.

“I’m going to use these,” she happily said, showing a pair of tweezers. One by one she plucked some of the more stubborn hairs hanging around like a squatter refusing to give up their residence. Attention to detail. I’d add that to her review.

Once that part was done, she applied more wax. “Now hold your belly taut so it hurts less.”

I did as she asked, fully convincing myself there wasn’t any lower my humiliation could go. Once more, I was wrong. Disassociation was something all of us girls developed during our stint in hell.

Now would be the best time to indulge. Slip out. Float somewhere above the ceiling and wait for it to end. Surely Marcel couldn’t fault me this one time. My mind wandered down crazy lane. The mirror was still shining between my legs. To look or not to look.