I’ve been doing this for over a mon

I’ve been doing this for over a month now and the majority of the clients at this salon are women. I’ve never noticed how intimate washing someone’s hair can be.
Then again, no one else stares so unabashedly while I’m trying to work. Knowing he’s watching my every move makes me incredibly nervous. My pulse speeds up and my hands grow fidgety. After a while, he opens his mouth to speak.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks quietly.
My hands pause what they’re doing. It’s such a juvenile question to ask. I feel like we’re kids and we’ve been giving each other the silent treatment. But for such a simple question, it’s a really hard one to answer.
I was mad at him three weeks ago. I was mad at him last night. But right now I don’t feel angry. Actually being near him and seeing how he looks at me makes me think he must have had a very valid excuse for not showing up, and it had nothing to do with how he felt about me. I just wish he would explain himself.
I shrug as I begin to work the shampoo through his hair again. “I was,” I tell him. “But you did warn me, didn’t you? You said everything else comes before the girls. So mad might be a bit harsh. Disappointed, yes. Annoyed, yes. But I’m not really mad.”
That was way too much of an explanation. One he didn’t really deserve.
“I did say that my work is my number one priority, but I never said I was an asshole. I let a girl know beforehand if I need space to work.”
I glance at him, briefly, and then give my attention to the bottle of conditioner. I squirt some in my hands and spread it through his hair.
“So you have the courtesy to warn your girlfriends that you’re about to disappear, but you don’t have the courtesy to warn the girls who aren’t screwing you?” I’m working the conditioner through his hair, not being nearly as gentle as I should be.
I think I changed my mind . . . I’m mad now.
He shakes his head and sits straight up, turning around to face me. “That’s not what I meant, Auburn.” Water is dripping down the side of his face. Down his neck. “I meant that I didn’t disappear on you because of my art. It wasn’t that type of situation. I don’t want you to think I didn’t want to come back, because I did.”
My jaw is tense and I’m grinding my teeth together. “You’re dripping everywhere,” I say as I pull him back to the sink. I pick up the sprayer and begin rinsing his hair. Again, his eyes are on me the whole time, but I don’t want to make eye contact with him. I don’t want to care what his excuse is, because I honestly don’t want to be involved with anyone right now. But damn it, I care. I want to know why he didn’t show up and why he hasn’t made an effort to contact me at all since then.
I finish rinsing his hair and I wash the suds down the drain. “You can sit up.”
He sits up and I grab a towel and squeeze the excess water out of his hair. I toss the towel in the hamper on the other side of the room and begin to walk around him, but he grabs my wrist and stops me. He stands up, still holding on to my wrist.
I don’t try to pull away from him. I know I should, but I’m too curious to see what his next move is to care what I should be doing. I also don’t pull away because I love how the slightest touch from him leaves me breathless.
“I lied to you,” he says quietly.
I don’t like those words, and I certainly don’t like the truthfulness on his face right now.
“I didn’t . . .” His eyes narrow in contemplation as he exhales slowly. “I didn’t come back because I didn’t see the point. I’m moving on Monday.”
He says the rest of the sentence like he can’t get it out fast enough. I don’t like this confession. At all.
“You’re moving?” My voice is full of disappointment. I feel like I was just dumped, and I don’t even have a boyfriend.
“You’re moving?” Emory asks.
I spin around, and she’s walking a client to one of the sinks, staring at Owen, waiting for an answer. I face Owen again and can see that this moment of truth is over for now. I walk away from him and head out of the room, toward my station. He follows quietly.
Neither of us speaks as I comb through his hair and try to figure out how I’m going to fix the mess I made of it last night. I’ll have to cut most of it off. He’ll look so different and I’m not sure I’m happy about his having much shorter hair.
“It’ll be short,” I say. “I messed it up pretty bad.”
He laughs, and his laugh is exactly what I need in this moment. It alleviates the heaviness of what was happening back in the other room. “Why would you let me do this to you?”
He smiles up at me. “It was your birthday. I would have done anything you asked.”
Flirtatious Owen is back, and I both love it and hate it. I take a step away from him to study his hair. When I’m positive I know how to fix it, I turn around and grab the scissors and comb, which are right where they’re supposed to be. I remember dropping them on the floor last night, and it occurs to me that Emory more than likely walked into a mess this morning.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Saya telah melakukan ini selama lebih dari sebulan dan sebagian besar klien di salon ini adalah perempuan. Aku belum pernah melihat seberapa intim mencuci rambut seseorang bisa.Kemudian lagi, tidak ada orang lain menatap Jadi tanpa malu-malu ketika saya mencoba untuk bekerja. Mengetahui dia menonton saya setiap langkah membuat saya sangat gugup. Mempercepat denyut nadi dan tangan saya tumbuh gelisah. Setelah beberapa saat, dia membuka mulutnya untuk berbicara."Apakah Anda marah padaku?" Dia bertanya pelan.Tangan saya menunda apa yang mereka lakukan. Ini adalah sebuah pertanyaan kekanak-kanakan untuk bertanya. Aku merasa seperti kita anak-anak dan kami telah memberikan saling diam perawatan. Tetapi sebuah pertanyaan yang sederhana, satu benar-benar sulit untuk menjawab.Aku sudah gila kepadanya tiga minggu yang lalu. Aku sudah gila padanya tadi malam. Tapi sekarang saya tidak merasa marah. Benar-benar dekat dengan dia dan melihat bagaimana ia memandang saya membuat saya berpikir ia harus memiliki alasan yang sangat valid untuk tidak muncul, dan itu tidak ada hubungannya dengan apa yang dia rasakan tentang saya. Aku hanya berharap ia akan menjelaskan dirinya.Aku mengangkat bahu saat saya mulai bekerja sampo melalui rambut lagi. "Saya adalah," Aku katakan padanya. "Tetapi Anda telah memperingatkan saya, tidak Anda? Anda mengatakan bahwa segala sesuatu datang sebelum gadis-gadis. Begitu marah mungkin agak kasar. Kecewa, ya. Jengkel, ya. "Tapi aku tidak benar-benar gila."Itu terlalu banyak penjelasan. Satu ia tidak benar-benar layak."Aku mengatakan bahwa pekerjaan saya adalah prioritas nomor satu saya, tapi aku tidak pernah bilang aku bajingan. Aku membiarkan seorang gadis yang tahu sebelumnya jika saya membutuhkan ruang untuk bekerja."I glance at him, briefly, and then give my attention to the bottle of conditioner. I squirt some in my hands and spread it through his hair.“So you have the courtesy to warn your girlfriends that you’re about to disappear, but you don’t have the courtesy to warn the girls who aren’t screwing you?” I’m working the conditioner through his hair, not being nearly as gentle as I should be.I think I changed my mind . . . I’m mad now.He shakes his head and sits straight up, turning around to face me. “That’s not what I meant, Auburn.” Water is dripping down the side of his face. Down his neck. “I meant that I didn’t disappear on you because of my art. It wasn’t that type of situation. I don’t want you to think I didn’t want to come back, because I did.”My jaw is tense and I’m grinding my teeth together. “You’re dripping everywhere,” I say as I pull him back to the sink. I pick up the sprayer and begin rinsing his hair. Again, his eyes are on me the whole time, but I don’t want to make eye contact with him. I don’t want to care what his excuse is, because I honestly don’t want to be involved with anyone right now. But damn it, I care. I want to know why he didn’t show up and why he hasn’t made an effort to contact me at all since then.I finish rinsing his hair and I wash the suds down the drain. “You can sit up.”He sits up and I grab a towel and squeeze the excess water out of his hair. I toss the towel in the hamper on the other side of the room and begin to walk around him, but he grabs my wrist and stops me. He stands up, still holding on to my wrist.I don’t try to pull away from him. I know I should, but I’m too curious to see what his next move is to care what I should be doing. I also don’t pull away because I love how the slightest touch from him leaves me breathless.“I lied to you,” he says quietly.I don’t like those words, and I certainly don’t like the truthfulness on his face right now.“I didn’t . . .” His eyes narrow in contemplation as he exhales slowly. “I didn’t come back because I didn’t see the point. I’m moving on Monday.”He says the rest of the sentence like he can’t get it out fast enough. I don’t like this confession. At all.“You’re moving?” My voice is full of disappointment. I feel like I was just dumped, and I don’t even have a boyfriend.“You’re moving?” Emory asks.I spin around, and she’s walking a client to one of the sinks, staring at Owen, waiting for an answer. I face Owen again and can see that this moment of truth is over for now. I walk away from him and head out of the room, toward my station. He follows quietly.Neither of us speaks as I comb through his hair and try to figure out how I’m going to fix the mess I made of it last night. I’ll have to cut most of it off. He’ll look so different and I’m not sure I’m happy about his having much shorter hair.“It’ll be short,” I say. “I messed it up pretty bad.”He laughs, and his laugh is exactly what I need in this moment. It alleviates the heaviness of what was happening back in the other room. “Why would you let me do this to you?”He smiles up at me. “It was your birthday. I would have done anything you asked.”Flirtatious Owen is back, and I both love it and hate it. I take a step away from him to study his hair. When I’m positive I know how to fix it, I turn around and grab the scissors and comb, which are right where they’re supposed to be. I remember dropping them on the floor last night, and it occurs to me that Emory more than likely walked into a mess this morning.