Page 41 of The Shot You Missed
Sure enough, it doesn’t take long for a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a ponytail to run into my shoulder.
“Watch it,” Sebastian says sharply, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close to his side.
The man looks our way, ready to tell Bash to fuck off, I’m sure, when his eyes widen and his jaw goes slack. “Oh, shit. Sorry, man. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Don’t apologize to me. She’s the one you bumped into.” Sebastian frowns at the man who’s now glancing between the two of us with far too much recognition.
Fire ants swarm my belly.
“Sorry, miss,” the man says before turning his attention back to Sebastian. “You’re the goalie for the Rogues, aren’t you?”
Sebastian puts on a confused expression. “The hockey team?” He turns to me. “Do I look like some hockey player?”
“No idea,” I say, trying not to smile. “Who even watches hockey?”
The guy narrows his eyes but eventually shakes his head. “Guess not. You really do look like him, though. Uncanny.” And with that, he walks away. I’m sure he’ll bump into at least three more people before the day is out. He has those vibes.
“You okay?”
I nod, humming. “You get used to it when you’re short. Not that you’d know. You’ve been taller than me since we were fourteen.”
“I guess you always have been a shorty. Is that why you dyed your hair pink? More visibility?” He still hasn’t dropped his arm from around my shoulders.
“No.” I chuckle and pull away from his side. Walking like this with him is dangerous, and I’m feeling a bit fragile. “It’s been a few different colors. I started dying it in college because I could. No one recognized me there, and it was freeing to realize there weren’t paparazzi waiting to photograph me and pick apart every little thing about me.”
Sebastian lets his arm fall, but his fingers flex. He frowns. “I’m sorry, Indie. It’s bullshit that you had to put up with that. You never deserved it.”
All I can do is shrug, because he’s right, but that changes nothing. The damage is done. Was done over and over and over. I wish I could say it hasn’t affected me in the long term, that I’ve been able to brush it off and become some confident, uncaring goddess, but that’s not the case. The marks those comments and articles carved into me are indelible and deep.
“I kept up with the fun hair for a while once I moved back home after graduation but stopped a year or so ago.” Ryland hated the colorful hair. When he did manage to drag me out to some fancy function, it was important we bothput our best feet forward.
Sebastian glances at me with narrowed eyes. “Why’d you stop?”
“It’s stupid.”
“Try me, Rosebud.”
“My boyfriend didn’t like it.” I sigh and hurry to push the rest of the words out. “I know it’s dumb, but it seemed like such a small thing to give up, at the time.”
“Your boyfriend sounds like an asshole.” Sebastian’s tone is dark and icy, but his expression is concerned.
Clearing my throat, I plaster a smile on my face. “That’s why he’s an ex-boyfriend.”
“Good.”
“Have you dated anyone seriously?”Seriously, Indigo? Why the hell did you ask that?
Sebastian tucks his hands into his jeans pockets. “No. I’ve, uh, obviously dated, but nothing serious.”
“Really?”Don’t do it, Indie. “None of the beautiful models you’ve been photographed with did it for you, huh?”Oh my god, you’re an idiot.
He peers at me with an expression I can’t quite place and rubs the back of his neck. “I guess I’ve been looking for something pretty specific. And no, none of them were it.”
“Oh. I see.” I don’t see. How can none of the women meet whatever unachievable standards he must have? He’s dated women who walk runways, women who have degrees in super impressive things, like aerospace engineering and genetic research. They weren’t simply beautiful faces; they were the total package.
If a woman like that doesn’t meet his standards, what hope could I ever have?
Absolutely fucking none, that’s what.
