" Hey, baby,” Chelsea said in a voice that bordered on baby talk as Mike bent down to give her a quick kiss. “Miss me?”
Violet almost rolled her eyes.
“I thought about you all period,” he answered, his voice husky. “Did you get the note I left in your backpack?”
Violet couldn’t hold back any longer; she rolled her eyes. Neither of them noticed.
“I did. You’re so sweet.” The cooing verged on sickening. “Did anyone say anything about your mustache?”
Mike winced, as if he suddenly remembered the patchy hair on his upper lip. “A coupla’ people,” he reluctantly responded, and Violet suspected that he’d taken his hair share of ribbing over it.
Chelsea ignored the obvious distress in his voice. “Vi and I gotta run or we’ll be late.” She stretched up to kiss him and then rubbed her thumb across the hairs above his lip as if she were petting them. “See you after class.”
Chelsea tugged at Violet, who was still staring at his unsightly mustache. It was like seeing a car accident…hard to look away.
“So do you? Like it, I mean?” Violet asked as she was being dragged down the hallway.
“The mustache?” Chelsea grimaced. “God, no. It’s hideous on him.”
“Then, why?”
“I told you, to see if he’d actually do it. Don’t worry. I’m gonna make him shave it this weekend.”
Violet wasn’t sure whether to congratulate her friend on her training abilities or reprimand her for being so cruel. In the end, she didn’t do either, mostly because she knew it wouldn’t make any difference.
Chelsea was Chelsea. Trying to convince her that what she’d done was wrong would be like banging your head against a brick wall. It would be painful to you but accomplish nothing. "

― Kimberly Derting , Desires of the Dead (The Body Finder, #2)