Chapter Text
Lottie never felt like she was… herself.
It was a quiet feeling, something that sat in the back of her chest like a stone she couldn’t swallow.
She didn’t like her body.
Didn’t like how her hair hung long down her back, catching on things, brushing her neck like it belonged to someone else.
Sometimes she’d stare at herself in the mirror and feel a strange distance, like she was looking at a stranger wearing her face.
She couldn’t tell if it was the Loxipene, the way it made everything foggy and dull around the edges.
Or the bitter beer from the keg Randy Walsh dragged to every stupid bonfire party, the taste sour and warm in the back of her throat.
Maybe it was neither.
Maybe it had always been there.
A quiet, gnawing thought she tried not to say out loud.
She hated being a girl.
She wanted to be a boy.
He wanted to be a boy.
Lottie stared at himself in the mirror, deciding whether is he should cut his hair yet. Surely it was too early for it.
He sat the scissors down, slowly letting the fistful of hair slip through his fingers. The strands fell back over his shoulders like nothing had happened.
Like the thought hadn’t just crossed his mind.
The bathroom was too bright. The light hummed faintly above the mirror, the sound filling the silence in a way that made his chest feel tight.
His reflection stared back at him.
Long hair. Soft face. Someone else’s body.
For a moment he imagined it different. Short hair. The weight gone from the back of his neck. Something sharper in the mirror. Something that looked… right.
The thought made his stomach twist.
What if someone noticed?
What if someone asked?
The scissors were still on the counter. Cheap metal, the kind that snagged when you closed them.
He picked them up again.
His hands felt weirdly steady.
Just a little, he thought.
Just enough to see.
He grabbed another piece of hair near his shoulder and pulled it forward. The ends brushed against the sink.
For a long moment he just looked at it.
Then he squeezed the scissors closed.
Snip.
The sound was small. Softer than he expected.
A thin lock of dark hair slid down into the sink.
Lottie stared at it.
His heart was beating hard now, like he’d just done something terrible.
But also—
Something else.
He reached up slowly, fingers brushing the shorter edge where the piece had been.
His neck felt colder already.
He looked back at the mirror.
He didn’t want to do it without someone.. Else, helping.
He wanted Laura Lee.
The thought came suddenly, but once it was there it felt obvious.
Laura Lee wouldn’t laugh.
She wouldn’t make it a thing.
She’d probably just tilt her head a little, like she always did when she was thinking, and say something careful and kind.
Lottie set the scissors back on the counter.
The single cut lock of hair was still in the sink.
It looked… small.
Ridiculous, almost.
Like proof of something he couldn’t undo.
He swept it quickly into the trash before he could think too much about it.
The bathroom light still hummed overhead.
He quickly flipped the switch off, walking carefully to his BMW downstairs, ignoring the maid’s questions.
The night air felt colder than it should have.
Lottie shut the front door behind him before the maid could ask another question, the soft click echoing through the marble foyer. For a moment he just stood there, keys in his hand, breathing.
His scalp still felt strange.
One uneven strand shorter than the rest.
He resisted the urge to reach up and touch it again.
Outside, the driveway lights flicked on automatically, bathing the BMW in pale yellow.
He slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door. The quiet inside the car felt different from the quiet in the house—less watchful.
Safer.
For a second he just sat there, hands resting on the steering wheel, staring at his reflection in the dark windshield.
The cut piece didn’t show.
His hair still looked the same. Long. Untouched.
Like nothing had happened.
His stomach twisted.
What if Laura Lee thought it was stupid?
What if she looked at him differently?
The engine turned over with a low hum.
He pulled out of the driveway before he could talk himself out of it.
⸻
Laura Lee’s trailer was dark except for the porch light.
Lottie sat in the car for a long moment, watching the warm square of light spill across the steps.
His heart was beating harder now than it had in the bathroom.
This felt bigger somehow.
He almost drove away.
Almost.
Instead, he got out of the car and walked up the path.
The porch boards creaked under his weight. The sound seemed too loud in the quiet area.
He raised his hand and knocked.
For a few seconds nothing happened.
Then footsteps.
The door opened a crack.
Laura Lee blinked at him, sleepy and confused, her hair loose around her shoulders.
“Lot?” his girlfriend said softly. “It’s… really late.”
For a moment he forgot how to speak.
His throat felt tight.
“I—”
He looked down at his shoes.
“Can you help me cut my hair?”
Laura Lee didn’t answer right away.
She just looked at him.
Really looked.
Her eyes moved to his face, then slowly to the long dark hair falling over his shoulders.
Then back again.
The porch light buzzed faintly above them.
Finally she opened the door wider.
“Okay,” she said gently. “Come inside.”
———
Lottie sat on an uncomfortable stool in front of Laura Lee’s bathroom mirror. Laura Lee found a pair of rusty scissors and started bunching his hair up.
Laura Lee gathered Lottie’s hair carefully in her hands, pulling it back away from his face.
It was thicker than she expected. Heavy.
She held it for a moment like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.
“You sure?” she asked softly.
Lottie sat very still on the stool. His hands were clenched in his lap, knuckles pale.
“Yeah.”
The word came out quieter than he meant it to.
“I wanna—I wanna be Charlie.”
Laura Lee stilled for a second.
“Okay.”
She said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Laura Lee didn’t ask anything else.
She just adjusted her grip on the scissors.
“Well,” she murmured, gently tugging Lottie’s hair back so it sat evenly in her hands. “Hi, Charlie.”
Something in Lottie’s chest loosened at that.
Charlie.
The word felt strange, like a shirt that hadn’t been worn yet. But it also fit somewhere deep in his ribs.
Laura Lee twisted the gathered hair once so it stayed together.
The scissors creaked when she opened them.
“You might look a little uneven at first,” she warned softly. “These aren’t exactly salon quality.”
Charlie let out a small breath that was almost a laugh.
“That’s okay.”
Laura Lee positioned the blades near the base of the thick bundle.
For a moment she paused.
“Ready?”
Charlie looked at himself in the mirror.
Long dark hair. Tired eyes. A face that had never quite felt like his.
But tonight, something was shifting.
“Yeah,” he said.
Snip.
The scissors struggled through the thickness, metal scraping faintly as Laura Lee worked them closed again and again.
Snip.
Snip.
Finally the heavy bundle came free in her hands.
It was bigger than either of them expected.
Laura Lee stared at it for a second, eyebrows lifting slightly.
“Well,” she said quietly. “That’s… a lot of hair.”
Charlie’s head felt suddenly lighter.
Cold air brushed the back of his neck.
He reached up slowly, fingers trembling a little as they touched the uneven, jagged ends now sitting around his shoulders.
His reflection looked different already.
Not finished.
Not neat.
But different.
Laura Lee set the thick cut ponytail on the counter beside the sink and picked the scissors up again.
“Let’s fix it a little,” she said.
She stepped closer, gently turning his head with her fingers.
Small pieces began to fall.
Dark strands sliding down his shoulders, gathering in the sink, drifting to the floor like quiet little shadows.
The bathroom filled with the soft rhythm of scissors and falling hair.
Charlie watched the mirror the entire time.
Each cut revealed more of his neck.
More of his jaw.
More of someone he felt like he almost recognized.
Laura Lee worked slowly, tongue caught between her teeth in concentration.
“Your ears are cold, aren’t they?” she said after a minute.
Charlie nodded.
“A little.”
She smiled faintly.
“That means it’s working.”
More hair fell.
Eventually she stepped back, tilting her head.
“Okay,” she said.
Charlie looked up at her.
She turned the stool gently so he could see the mirror fully.
The person staring back at him had short, uneven hair that barely brushed the bottom of his ears.
It wasn’t perfect.
A few pieces stuck out. The back was a little jagged.
But the weight was gone.
His neck looked longer.
His face sharper.
For the first time in a long time, the mirror didn’t feel like it was lying.
Charlie stared.
Then he let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Laura Lee leaned lightly against the sink beside him.
“So,” she asked softly.
“How does Charlie feel about it?”
Charlie lifted his hand, running his fingers through the short hair.
It stuck up a little.
He smiled without meaning to.
“Lighter. Or how I feel when Coach didn’t make us run laps.”
Laura Lee nodded.
“Good.”
For a moment the two of them just stood there in the quiet bathroom, hair scattered everywhere.
Then Laura Lee glanced down at the massive pile on the floor.
“We should probably clean this up,” she said.
Charlie laughed, a real one this time.
And it sounded different.
———
Natalie leaned on the side of the school, one cigarette in her hand.
Charlie also leaned against it, Nat looked at him, eyebrows surprisingly raised.
“Lottie, what happened to your hair, Jesus?” She spat out. Not rudely, just in the Nat way.
Charlie laughed, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah.. It’s Charlie now, loser.”
Natalie stared at him for another second, cigarette paused halfway to her mouth.
“Charlie,” she repeated slowly.
Charlie kicked lightly at a loose rock near the wall, pretending he didn’t care nearly as much as he did.
“Yeah.”
Natalie took a drag, exhaling smoke through her nose.
“Jesus Christ.”
Charlie snorted.
“That good, huh?”
Nat squinted at him, tilting her head like she was inspecting a suspicious animal.
“It’s… weird.”
Charlie groaned.
“Thanks, Nat.”
“I didn’t say bad,” she said quickly, flicking ash onto the pavement. “Just weird.”
Her eyes flicked back up to his hair again.
It was uneven in the back. One side slightly shorter than the other.
Definitely not professional.
“Laura Lee do that?” she asked.
Charlie nodded.
“Yeah.”
Nat huffed out a small laugh.
“Figures.”
Charlie shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket.
For a moment neither of them said anything.
The wind pushed lightly at the shorter hair around his ears.
It still felt strange.
Nat finally nudged his shoulder with hers.
“Bet it feels better though, huh?”
Charlie glanced sideways at her.
“A little.”
Nat studied his face again, quieter this time.
Then she shrugged.
“Alright.”
Charlie blinked.
“Alright?”
She took another drag from the cigarette.
“Yeah.”
She flicked it away, grinding it into the concrete with the heel of her boot.
“Charlie it is.”
Charlie felt something warm spread in his chest at that.
Not a big moment.
Not dramatic.
Just Nat deciding something and moving on.
Which somehow meant more.
Nat shoved her hands into her jacket pockets.
“Still gonna call you a loser though.”
Charlie laughed.
“Wouldn’t expect anything else.”