I had meant it as a joke, just a passing comment from one beardless man to another. I had expected him to smile, laugh it off, or maybe even blush. I thought it would establish something we had in common and give us something to talk about, pave the road towards a future friendship between us.
The last thing I had expected was for him to glance over his shoulder and whisper, “I thought so. I’m not sure where you go, but meet me at Bella Voi tomorrow. My appointment’s at six.” Since that day I have learned that there is no point in expecting anything when it comes to Spencer Chamberlain.
I had no idea what Spencer had meant, but I did know that I had heard the someone talk about a place called the Bella Voi before. Someone who I had once spent the good part of three years with.
I remembered how he had come home one night with a smile on his face, ranting about a beauty parlor of sorts that was located off of Blue Ridge Road. He had described it as the best $300 dollars he had ever spent.
With that in mind, I decided that I would meet Spencer like he had suggested. I made a stop at the bank on my way home and withdrew $500 dollars from my savings account, just in case.
I had no idea whether Spencer had meant 6am or 6pm, so I set my alarm clock for 5 in the morning and made sure I brought a book and a notebook with me. That way I would have something to do if I ended up spending my entire day there in waiting.
The Bella Voi was harder to locate than I had expected, and Blue Ridge Road was not the shortest road in town. It took a couple of trips from one end to the other before I was able to find the shop.
When I arrived, Spencer was sitting on the bench by the front door, his legs crossed and his hands folded in his lap.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it,” he said with a smile.
I nervously followed him inside, still unsure of what he had planned for the morning, but happy that he had invited me along.
The building smelled faintly of clove oil and candle wax. The lady at the receptionist desk smiled when she saw Spencer and lead the two of us to a back room with two cushioned beds. I followed Spencer’s example and laid down, resting my head on my arms.
“I’ve never been here before,” I said after a few moments of silence passed between us.
“Oh really?”–He turned his head to look at me.–“This place is the best. They rub clove oil into your skin before they start. It nearly puts me to sleep every time, and it works to ease the pain a little.”
Ease the pain? I really did not like the way he said that and I was beginning to wonder what the hell I had gotten myself into. But right when I was starting to wish I had questioned Jamison more about his Bella Voi experiences, a couple of ladies entered the room.
“Shall we begin then?” One of them asked as she looked us both over.
“Ready when you are,” Spencer said before he removed his shirt and nodded for me to remove mine as well.
It was that moment when I realized what was going on. Spencer and I had one major difference. He was not naturally free of body hair; I was. Another thought that struck me at that moment was that Jamison’s body had been hair free as well, and he achieved such results by waxing. Spencer waxed, and when I had joked about it with him, he had assumed that I waxed as well!
I swallowed as I watched one of the ladies stir and stretch the melted wax. If I backed out now, Spencer would think I was a pussy and would not find me interesting enough to hang out with. He would also know that, unlike him, I obviously had never gone through puberty the same way everyone else had. And that instead of trying to appear hairless, it came naturally to me.
The wax felt surprisingly good when the lady smeared it across my skin. But right when I was stating to relax and enjoy it, the lady ripped it off, taking what felt like half of my skin with it.
I held my breath and bit into my bottom lip to keep quiet, but a quick glance in Spencer’s direction reassured me that he had not noticed. He was fast asleep, completely oblivious to the pain that came with waxing.
An hour and no less than one hundred waxing experiences later, we were finally finished. Spencer sat up and yawned the moment the last one was ripped off, his skin pink from the wax.
“Isn’t this place the best?” He asked.
“This place?”–I took a deep breath and prepared myself to tell the biggest lie that had ever left my lips.–“This place is definitely the best. You’re right, the clove oil works wonders on easing the pain.”
His smile turned into a full fledged grin.
“You’re awesome, Parker,” he said as he put his arm around my shoulders. “Just wait till next week when we come back for bikini line laser hair removal therapy!”