valeria

If you ask Melissa Schemmenti, she can tell you for sure that at first, everything is quite hesitant between her and Y/N.

It starts with lingering glances. Sometimes there are a few subtle touches when Melissa arrives at the salon and meets the hairdresser, but nothing more than that, except when they exchange a smile that remains for a little too long in their faces before the teacher leaves Riverfront Roots Salon after her appointment.

But this lasts so little. Because of course, it does.

The stylist's compliments to the redhead start out so subtle, where Y/N watches with curious eyes the redhead's reaction to the simplest "You look pretty today", but Melissa quickly turns tables and uses this to her advantage in the situation.

Because, even tho Y/N is restrained and indescribably professional, Melissa is passionate about testing limits.

The redhead loves to know how close she can get to a flame without getting burned, and Y/N is a flame that the teacher is more than eager to watch turn to ashes in front of her.

Melissa remembers exactly the hairdresser's reaction the first time Y/N was complimented by her. Such a pretty girl, blushing and all nervous, but still with quick answers to all her questions.

And Melissa wants to see her break so much.

The day the Brazilian hairdresser finally breaks is four months after the first compliment Y/N said to Melissa. The Brazilian woman was cutting the teacher's hair, focused, while she felt the redhead's gaze fixed on her reflection in the mirror.

"Do you always work so close to your clients? Like this? I can almost smell your breath… And your perfume…", Melissa's voice sounded so dangerous in the middle of the previous silence they were sharing that her voice and gaze alone made Y/N blush, adjusting the comb and breathing nervously before answering.

"Oh, it's… part of the job.... Sorry."

Simple and respectful.

But with the Brazilian woman's words, Melissa had decided that she simply needed to stretch her neck slightly, moving just enough to expose a bit more of her own skin and forcing Y/N to comb her hair again to align it, with her face flushed and embarrassed.

When the Brazilian woman finally managed to clear her mind of particularly indecent ideas, she focused her gaze on the redhead's face, searching for the discomfort that made her move in the first place, only to see a smile too mischievous that she just had to anticipate an especially clever response from the redhead.

"A good part I must add. At least from a client's point of view.", Melissa verbalized in just a whisper, knowing that due to the proximity of the two, there was no possibility of Y/N not hearing her.

Y/N's cheeks heat up even more than they already were as she chooses to remain silent and shrugs as she combs Melissa's hair back into place before cutting it again, actively avoiding the green eyes that burn her through the reflection of the mirror.

Just for the peace. Her peace.

Melissa, however, is having too much fun to suddenly want peace. And that's her mistake.

"You're good with your hands, ya know? Must make a lot of people feel good," the words slip from the redhead's lips as soon as Y/N finishes cutting her hair.

And then silence.

The Brazilian woman, who was stroking the teacher's wet hair to see how it fell, widened her eyes in shock before looking at Melissa's face, catching the exact moment she gently bit her inner lip as if she had won a bet that Y/N didn't even know she was participating in.

And maybe that's what makes the hairdresser break.

The redhead's uninhibited and remorseless flirting has slowly built a subtle and dangerous idea in the hairdresser's mind over those long months. This flirtation only threatened to shine like a precious treasure in Y/N's soul, but now those words awakened something in the Brazilian woman that made her hesitate for just a fraction of a second before answering:

"That's the goal, isn't it? For people to leave... satisfied?", her voice is subtle, using all her self-control to sound serious and without a hint of shame as she makes sure to look directly into the redhead's eyes with each word she says.

The surprise on Melissa's face is explicit and almost makes Y/N burst out laughing, but she remains neutral, watching as the words she just said make sense in the redhead's mind.

And Melissa? Melissa sees the crack in the hairdresser's responsible and professional face, and surprisingly finds it even more interesting than when she remained stoic and unchanged.

"Satisfied... what an interesting word.", is what she chooses to answer, even though she knows that the most interesting part is how much the teacher really likes the idea of ​​someone as willing as she is to speak her mind and consequently... play a little.

"Don't you like it?", is the question Y/N asks, her eyes focused on those green ones that burn the hairdresser's mind with a goal that she is beginning to understand.

A mutual chill in both women's stomachs, suddenly too anxious to be sure if they understood each other correctly, takes over the atmosphere.

To disguise a little the anticipation for the redhead's answer, Y/N runs her fingers a little harder on the teacher's scalp. Whether it is on purpose or not, the hairdresser is not sure, but the fact that Melissa closes her eyes softly, as if she was savoring the touch, before looking directly into the Brazilian woman's eyes again is like the icing on the cake.

"Oh don't get me wrong, hon... I like it a lot."

And it is honestly so comforting when they both laugh at the same time, for both of them. The sound echoes a little too loudly but neither of them cares enough and, as if to make sure that none of this was created in the hairdresser's mind, she softly walks until she is in front of the teacher and approaches her.

Y/N gets very, very close.

With just a few movements, the Brazilian woman who was previously next to the redheaded woman is now in front of her, with one of her knees between the teacher's legs and gently lowering herself until she gets close enough to her face.

"You're playing with fire, and you know it, don't you?", the words are murmured directly against the older woman's ear, even if with a slight touch of confusion.

"What? You don't like to play?", is the redhead's response as she scratches the hairdresser's jeans pants with the tip of her index fingernail.

And just like that, a different kind of friendship begins to exist between them. An exotic friendship, full of unprofessional compliments, touches that leave both of their skins with goosebumps, and a not-so-innocent smile on their faces.

But still a friendship. Even though they never exactly called it that out loud.

A friendship in which Y/N ​​can see in Melissa's eyes how much the redhead loves to make her dizzy with her words and how positively vain she becomes with her compliments. A friendship in which Melissa finds herself enchanted as she witnesses Y/N becoming more and more comfortable with her responses, letting her Brazilian charm take over every syllable directed at her.

A friendship. A flirting and so painfully natural friendship.

But it's still just friendship. Because as Melissa herself said, it's just a little fun. They are just playing.

But this fun slowly starts to make room for them to do things that are just theirs, like gambling.

Working at Riverfront Roots Salon, just like working in any place that offers any service to the general public, requires a lot of patience, energy, and clear communication. After all, none of the professionals there want to disappoint their clients with work that doesn't meet the salon's standards.

The problem is that this leaves everyone exhausted at the end of the work week, and this showed everyone there that they needed a moment of relaxation. Whether it's a professional thing or no.

What will be the next cut or color that the bravest client in the salon will get? Will the most stoic client ask for the same hairstyle as always or will she try something new?

How many times will the teenage client check her phone for a message from her boyfriend? Will the client who lives on the other side of town be late again?

She started with the nail artists, noticing that the clients who used to get their nails done with the letters of their boyfriends' first names in it had stopped, causing them to create a timeline comparing which of them had remained single the longest. But eventually, real gambles began between everyone who worked at the salon. And Y/N would never turn down the possibility of earning a little extra at the end of the month.

The hairdresser blames her grandmother, actually. The blame for this is the older woman and her illegal gambling with those cute little animals to choose from while Y/N was a child and still wanted to visit the zoo every weekend. And Melissa Schemmenti... It's honestly surprising that she doesn't have her own gambling platform by now.

The teacher grew up surrounded by poker tables, harsh game scores, and family members who were quite confident in their own opinions, which proves that she really had no choice. As a teenager, everything had become a competition between her siblings and that didn't stop when she finally became an adult woman. So it's obvious that the redhead, upon hearing some hairdressers talking in the corner of the salon, would find a way to participate in it.

What she doesn't expect is that, in the middle of her coloring with Y/N, while the color of her hair is processing, the Brazilian hairdresser puts the same twenty-dollar bill that the teacher used to gamble back into Melissa's lap.

“What...?”, the redhead's voice sounds confused and then questioning when Melissa realizes what is happening, “Why?”

“We don't play with clients' money... And yes, I've already talked to whoever talked to you.”, is Y/N's honest answer as she leans against the counter that holds the mirror in front of Melissa, blocking the redhead from seeing her own reflection.

“Oh... So ya're the boss here?”, the redhead asks with a growing smile on her lips.

“You're my client. So I'm the boss when it comes to you.”, the Brazilian woman says in a low voice that makes the skin on the back of the teacher's neck crawl for all the wrong reasons, “I'm not going to let your money just wander around.”

“You’re no fun.”, Melissa says quietly and a little awkwardly as she puts the money inside her own purse before continuing to mumble, “And that Miss Goldilocks over there is absolutely anxious... Of course she’s going to do something different from the usual.”

With a quick glance towards the people who formed a small line at the salon’s reception, Y/N could see what Melissa was talking about. Little Amelia, who had just been accepted into an out-of-state college, was bouncing her legs so nervously that her blonde hair was almost jumping off her head. Uneasy, for sure.

With a long sigh and a wave of her hand, Y/N called Martha, the older blonde woman at the salon, an expert in realistic nail designs and responsible for all the salon’s gambles, to come over to them.

“I get it, Y/N. I promise I won’t involve your precious clients in our games.”, the older woman starts to mumble with a roll of her blue eyes as she gets close to the hairdresser and Melissa.

While she listens to her coworker's complaint in silence, the Brazilian woman opens a small door hidden behind the mirror on her workbench and takes out a brown purse.

It's big and bulky as if it were full of little things that together make Y/N's daily work easier, made of a material that Melissa could swear was leather because it shined exactly like her own jackets do.

After rummaging through its contents a bit, the Brazilian woman finds her own wallet, takes out two twenty-dollar bills and offers them to the grumbling woman in front of her.

"There! Twenty in my name and twenty in hers", the hairdresser tells Martha with a certainty that leaves no room for questioning.

"Who do you think you are? My mother?" Melissa is quick to ask, even with a smile on her face as Martha walks away again, with the money from both bets in her hands.

The following month, when the teacher returns for her touch-up, a wide smile spreads across the teacher's face as she receives sixty dollars from Martha's hands as soon as she sits in the chair in front of Y/N.

“How generous, but I thought going to a hair salon worked the other way around.”, the redhead says to Y/N in confusion when Martha walks away, but still smiling looking at the money.

“You're funny. But these are your winnings from our last month's little game, everyone has already received their share so all that's left is yours.”

“But hun... You paid...”, Melissa's green eyes looked at the hairdresser's face as if she had some serious memory problem.

“Yes, I did... but I put twenty in my name and twenty in yours.”, Y/N finally answers as if it were obvious before smiling with flushed cheeks and shrugging, “That's your share.”

The smiles on both of their faces fade a little when Melissa decides that her winnings should belong to the Brazilian woman, vehemently saying that it is the fairest thing to do even when Y/N rejects it. But the teacher doesn't give up so easily and, before leaving the salon after her appointment, she calmly walks over to the hairdresser's tip box and leaves the same sixty dollars there.

"A gift. For a job well done and for looking so cute with your hair in a braid," the redhead murmurs towards the Brazilian woman before turning her back on her, completely missing the way the hairdresser strokes affectionately her own braid while uselessly trying to reprimand a smile that just takes over her face.

And since that day, Melissa has never stopped participating in the salon's gambles. Always with the money materializing from Y/N's wallet, and eventually returning back there thanks to the teacher's immaculate luck in gambling correctly.

But things start to change when those little bets leave the salon.

It’s a day like any other in the teachers’ break room at Abbott Elementary. Lunch is surprisingly quiet, even with Janine asking too many questions about a new government project that hasn’t even been approved for public schools yet. But then Melissa’s cell phone rings loudly.

Once, twice, and then a third time.

No one but the redhead herself and her deskmate and friend, Barbara Howerd, pay close attention. Everyone in the room is so used to watching the teacher completely ignore every single text message she receives out of mere boredom and disinterest that this just seemed like any other day. Usually, Melissa looks at the name of the person who sent her a message and locks her phone again, acting as if nothing particularly important had happened.

Because it never is.

“If it's really important, then it's a phone call,” is what the redhead usually says to anyone who questions her, and that’s why when she looks at her phone and unlocks it, ready to read the messages, Jacob starts watching her more closely.

Automatically, the conversation Melissa has with Y/N ​​opens.

The past conversation between the two women is not very stimulating. Most of the messages are just the older woman saying that she will arrive a little later at the salon for her scheduled appointment or just a request for a fitting when Melissa feels she needs a haircut a little earlier than expected, always being answered with subtle messages indicating that the Brazilian woman was fine and would prepare whatever was necessary for her.

But that message, initiated for the first time by the hairdresser, is different from all the others.

The first one is a photo of a woman's back. This stranger's hair has alot of different colors, all quite saturated, and appears on the redhead's cell phone with a simple caption.

"She wants to go platinum. She said I can go as far as I want with the bleach and if it starts to fall out I should shave it all off and give her an androgynous cut."

But what really grabs the teacher's attention in the conversation are the next two messages. Just two sentences, but they open a door of possibilities that are impossible to calculate.

"Want to play?" "Just the two of us."

The redhead's heart beats a little faster there, so it takes a while for her to think of something to respond to the Brazilian woman.

"I like the sound of that."

It's the first thing Melissa types and sends, having given up months ago on the idea of ​​ignoring her attraction to the younger woman. After all, nothing can go wrong if that's all it is.

Attraction. Some fair gambles. An innocent flirtation between... Friends.

Friends?

The teacher isn't sure, but she still likes the idea of ​​being something more than just a client. And it's with this thought that she types another message, actively joining in Y/N's game.

"You're going to bleach her hair twice, but she's going to give up and keep her hair colored anyway. Just a lot lighter."

It's an honest bet from the teacher. The hair in the photo has many different shades that are difficult to remove, and the redhead only knows this because of a box of green dye and a phase of teenage rebellion of her younger sister that she tries to forget to this day.

At the same time that the hilarious image of a younger Toni Schemmenti, crying with her hair half green, appears in her memory, two other messages from Y/N appear on her cell phone.

“I think I can get a caramel blonde and make her agree to it.” “You know, with my persuasion and everything?”

A small laugh escapes the redhead’s lips as she types on her cell phone screen.

“Good luck with that, hun.” “Back to you Melissa.”

The smile on the teacher’s face doesn’t even have time to fade after reading Y/N’s last message, indicating a small farewell, because a curious voice interrupts her, startling her for just a moment.

“Who is it, Schemmenti? A new thing?” Ava asks, suddenly behind her and trying to read what is written on her phone, like a suicidal woman, next to Jacob and Barbara who also look at her as if she is someone they do not recognize.

“Jus my business.”, Melissa says before putting away her phone and taking a bite of the sandwich she brought for herself.

Silently, the teacher hopes not only that her answer will be enough for both Jacob and the friend next to her, the ones who look at her most curiously in the room, to drop the subject, but also that it will not be exactly visible over her daily makeup how much her cheeks must have blushed.

A new thing.

It takes much more than just a few hours for Y/N to send her a new photo.

Melissa is in her own car this time, ready to leave when she receives the message notification. So, still in the parking lot of the school where she works, with the car doors locked and oblivious to the curious glances of Janine and Gregory in the distance, the redhead looks at her cell phone.

In the photo is the same woman, but now with very light blond hair. It's blonde, for sure, but the ends have a touch of a very strong purple color in them, and the caption of the image explains it all.

"She changed her mind in the middle of the appointment, and so I think in some way we both win." "Good job, hun."

It's a simple answer, but one that Melissa embodies with a small heart emoji when reacting directly to the photo that was sent to her. The teacher anticipated having time to think about writing something else, but new messages from the hairdresser quickly appear in the conversation.

“Cute, right? “But since I’m real nice, tell me what’s your favorite restaurant around here.” “Why?”

It’s a reasonable question in the teacher’s mind. But the anxiety of being answered, so new and unknown to Melissa, is crushed when she notices that her coworkers are at a distance, looking at her with too much curiosity not to ask all types of questions the next day.

And she definitely doesn’t like that.

So, the redhead quickly types the answer that the Brazilian woman had asked her a few minutes ago and leaves her cell phone on the passenger seat, starting her car and longing for the privacy of her own home.

“Capt'n Chucky's Crab Cakes in Ocean City.”

Ten minutes later, when the redhead is already on her way home, she receives another beep on her cell phone and what awaits her in the conversation is not exactly a message, but a gift card worth thirty dollars for Capt’n Chucky’s Crab Cakes.

And the gambles continue as time goes by. Month after month and week after week, little messages appear on the older woman’s cell phone. Silly little games that Melissa not only never rejects, but also looks forward to.

Will the lawyer-client share some gossip about her latest case or will it still be a secret until the judge's verdict? Will the client who just celebrated her daughter's 5th birthday mention her work or her family first?

Will the client who just found out she's pregnant complain about the traffic or the weather first? Which chocolates in the vending machine will run out first that week?

It is always initiated by the hairdresser, but that changes when Melissa sees the first poster advertising that year’s Read-A-Thon in Abbott. The redhead knows that this is the perfect opportunity to involve Y/N in one of the only legal matches she participates in, making the game between them more... reciprocal. So, without thinking twice, the redhead takes her cell phone and takes a picture of the poster, sending it without any caption to Y/N, fully wrapped in the certainty that the hairdresser would understand the message.

And she does.

“I think your and your students' charm will have this without a shadow of a doubt.” “I feel like I should add that my students and I are the current winners of Read-A-Thon, so you can’t expect me to bet against myself, right?”

Melissa texts back to Y/N with a smug smile. She knows she’s actively using her winning belt to get the stylist’s attention and thus boost her confidence in the redhead, but that’s not such a bad thing, right?

Maybe she can take a picture of it too, just because…

“Oh, I should have guessed… So, Miss Winner, I think you and your class will win by a margin of forty books over the sad second place.”

It's funny to Melissa when, at the end of that Read-a-Toon, she wins with exactly forty-eight books ahead of Janine. But when the teacher goes to write the final file in the annual competition document for the pizzeria that will give her little eagles the best lunch of the year, the redhead leaves out eight books on purpose with a smile on her face.

And this definitely has nothing to do with the photo she takes right after, ready to send it to Y/N.

The smile Melissa receives, along with the kiss on her left cheek for her victory when she goes to color her hair the following month, is worth the lie.