“Yes, sometimes even more so for adults. It takes you back to the innocent joy of being a young child. Everyone that comes in the shop has their own special sweet that takes them back to happier, carefree times.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Mack said. “Isy loved it, anyway.”

“She’s a beautiful girl.”

“Yeah, she is. We are all so proud of her.” Mack then leaned forward in her seat. “So did you get the tingles?”

“What? What do you mean?” Flora said defensively.

“ASMR? When you watched the YouTube videos?”

“Oh, that.” Flora blushed adorably. “Um yes, I get AMSR tingles. It was really relaxing to watch. I usually struggle to get to sleep, but watching your videos helped me to drift off to sleep.”

“Do you always struggle to sleep?” Mack asked.

Flora gulped hard. “When you’re on your own—I mean there’s two students that live upstairs, and they’re quite loud, late at night.”

“Oh, okay.”

There was something more going on there. Mack guessed Flora’s anxiety didn’t help with sleeping soundly.

“I’m glad the videos help, in a small way. You’ll need to let me give you the full treatment sometime—hair, massage, the whole works.”

“Hairdressers are the worst for someone like me,” Flora said.

“Why?”

“Social anxiety. Hairdressers feel obliged to talk to you about anything and everything, and I can’t cope with the conversation. I just freeze.”

“So how do get your hair cut?” Mack asked.

“A friend of Sandra’s is a mobile hairdresser. She comes to the house. Sandra warned her about my difficulties. The only problem is her clientele are old ladies, and I don’t really get a style I’m happy with. It’s just to tidy up my hair really.” Flora was embarrassed admitting that, but with Mack she never feared ridicule.

“You should let me cut it for you sometime.”

Flora could feel her skin and her body heat up. All these nights watching Mack in the videos, she imagined herself in the chair. She imagined Mack’s strong fingers running through her hair, massaging her scalp and then her neck—it was too much.

“Maybe,” Flora croaked.

An awkwardness hung in the air now, and Flora didn’t know what to say.

Thankfully Mack filled the silence. “Have any plans this weekend?” Mack asked.

The dreaded question to someone with social anxiety. That loaded question had been asked all the way back to her school years, by well-meaning people just trying to make conversation. The answer in her head was always, No, the only plans I have are to put on my pyjamas, watch my favourite TV shows, and be on my own, and be perfectly happy at that.