“I wouldn’t think money was the most important thing in a relationship.”
“Love doesn’t last. Security is what’s important. That’s what Mom says anyway.” Katie frowned. “It sucks but it’s true. All the relationships I’ve seen end pretty fast. It’s not like in the movies.”
I laughed. “Nothing’s ever like it is in the movies. They’re not meant to reflect real life.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“Other than entertainment?” She nodded. I thought a moment before responding. “A sense of hope, I guess. That you can move past this. That good things are waiting for you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Doubt it.”
“Katie, not to be that person, but you’re only sixteen. I’m almost ten years older than you and even I still have so much to look forward to. High school isn’t all there is to life.”
Katie studied me. “I guess that’s why Joy likes you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think she kinda sees you as a sign of hope. That she can get out of Shady Palms. And that even if she comes back, it’ll be OK.”
It hit me then: These girls saw me as a role model. I knew Valerie had gone on about me and Sana being inspirations in her opening speech, but I thought she was being pompous. That there was no way someone would look at me and see anything but failure. It’s what I saw every time I looked in the mirror lately. Which was why I needed the Brew-ha Cafe to be a success. I needed to prove to myself that I’d finally made it, despite having to come back home. Despite having to go into business with partners instead of flourishing on my own.
Despite never achieving the things my mother wanted me to achieve.
“Is that why you entered the pageant? To get away from Shady Palms?” I asked.
She nodded. “Mom said there’s nothing for me here. I think she secretly hopes I’ll marry a rich guy and make it easier on all of us, but I don’t want to live like that.”
“Married to a rich guy?” I thought of all the Cinderella story–esque romances I used to read （oh, who was I kidding? I still read them） and imagined all the ways I’d expand the cafe if I had a rich spouse to foot the bills.
“Waiting around for a guy with enough money to take care of me. I want to be able to take care of myself,” Katie said, showing more integrity than I could muster as I daydreamed about a professional-grade mixer, maybe even a blast chiller and soft-serve machine.
“That’s the goal, Katie,” Winnie said, appearing behind Katie and tossing an envelope on her workstation.
Katie hopped out of the seat next to me. “Mom! How much did you hear?”
“Enough.” Winnie frowned at her daughter. “When I told you to use your looks to get ahead, I didn’t mean so you can go off to college and get your Mrs. I meant beautiful people have special advantages and you should use them. Never rely solely on a man.”
“But you said—”
“I said money helps. But don’t get invested or plan your life around a guy. They don’t stick around.” Winnie’s voice was matter-of-fact, but I caught the bitterness that swept across her face before she sighed and kissed her daughter’s head.
Katie eyed the envelope on the table. “So, what did he want?”
“The usual. There are tickets to a concert in Shelbyville in there for both of us. He’s trying to butter me up by including you.”
“Eww, he wants me to come along on your date? No thanks.”
At the look her mother gave her, Katie said, “Oops, I think I’m needed in the front. Talk to you later, Lila!”
After her daughter left, Winnie started unwrapping the foil pieces around my face. “Let’s see how we’re doing . . . Yes, I think it’s ready. Let’s go wash this out and we can finish your cut.”
“Ooh, another head massage?”
She laughed. “Just a quick one. To get all the gunk out of your hair. No peeking!”
I finished out the rest of the cut with my eyes squeezed shut as she snipped and shaped my hair. “All right, just a quick blow-dry and we’re done.”
The firm bristles of a diffuser scraped against my scalp as she ran the blow-dryer and I tried not to fall asleep. The calming pressure of the bristles combined with the heat from the dryer was oddly soothing.
The hum of the dryer stopped, and before I could open my eyes, I heard Elena say, “Oh, Lila, you look wonderful!”
My eyes flew open as I took in my appearance. The right side of my hair grazed my collarbone as I’d asked, but the left was above my shoulder, cut in an asymmetrical bob. Streaks of white so brilliant it was almost silver highlighted my hair, somehow striking and understated at the same time, adding depth to the dark color.