Leslie's Curl & Dye Page 8

  In some ways, moving back to Potter Lake improved my quality of life greatly. I got to see Tamera every day.

  "We can watch next week's episode at your house if you're going to be throwing things. You know the producers are going to keep him. They want to drag this out so we hang on just to see how long he stays on the show. They do it every season."

  "I know," she grumbled. "I was hoping they'd use a different tactic this season, but it looks like the same old shit."

  "Because the same two old biddies are in front of the TV watching it.”

  “Ugh... call me when Oprah or Ava produce a dating show.”

  I laughed, holding out my arms to give Tamera a hug, then watched from the stairs as she walked out to her car. I didn't step back into my apartment until I saw her tail lights go down the street and turn the corner.

  I closed and double locked the door, then started picking up. Tamera was a messy guest— popcorn was everywhere, she'd left her wine glass on the table and a nearly empty bottle of water on the floor next to the couch. Once the living room was back in good shape, I shuffled to my bedroom, stifling a yawn behind one hand.

  I crawled onto the bed— a full because the room wasn't big enough for a queen sized mattress— and laid on my back, staring at the ceiling. And thinking.

  About KC.

  I probably wouldn't have been, had he not come over that night. I hadn't seen him since he stopped by the shop the week before and I had almost convinced myself that I could forget he existed. But then he brought his tall, muscular, handsomely bearded and tattooed self over to my house and... well, now I couldn't stop thinking about him.

  I met KC my first day at Healy University. Potter Lake was only twenty miles west, but Healy was so different, you would have thought it was a hundred miles and light years away. Instead of Woolworth's and the Kwik-E-Mart, they had Kroger and department stores like JC Penney. It was rare that Mama would drive to Healy for something. We made do with what we had in Potter Lake and that was that.

  I'd worked hard for two years, saving money so I could live in the dorms at Healy, so when I had unpacked my things and was bored lounging in my room, I skipped down to the Quad, the social center on campus. There was a cafeteria and a little sundry shop to buy candy and soda and newspaper, a frozen dinner if you were desperate. I rounded the corner, on my way to a party for the freshmen and walked right into a man.

  A big man. Like... tall, big. Pretty smile. Gorgeous eyes. A dimple in one cheek and an earring in one ear. He wore basketball shorts, socks, athletic shoes and a white t-shirt.

  Looking lickable while doing so.

  "Ooh! Hey! Uhm... you're tall," I sputtered, cocking my head back at a ridiculous angle to look up at him.

  "I am pretty tall, yeah," he said, his voice so smooth it almost slid down my back. "Do you know where the uhm..." He consulted a flyer that looked like it had seen better days. "The Franklin Center? I was looking for the Freshman Welcome Mixer."

  "I'm going there. I think it's the next building over. I'll walk with you."

  "Cool, okay. I'm KC." My hand slipped into his easily. They were soft, but had little callouses along the meaty part of the palm.

  "I'm Leslie. Nice to meet you."

  We walked over the party together, chit chatting along the way. We were in the same dorm, Morrison; and we were on the same floor but different sides. I'd been nervous about living in a co-ed dorm but at that moment I was a huge proponent of it.

  As soon as we walked into the Franklin Center, KC saw some guys from his floor. He thanked me for walking with him and said he was going to see what was up with them and he'd catch me later. I was disappointed, but had no intention of showing it. I nodded my head and uttered a brief, "K", and headed to the other side of the room where a buffet table was loaded down with sandwiches, chips, fruit and desserts.

  I met a few people that night, though I couldn't tell you their names or what dorm they lived in or what they planned to major in, because I was busy watching KC out of the corner of my eye. I was always across the room, but he was never out of my sight. After about an hour, I made my way across the room and... accidentally on purpose backed myself into him.

  "Girl, that's the second time you've bumped into me," he said, laughing. "Don't even play like you didn't see me this time. I'm 6'4". Nobody misses me."

  I laughed, bringing a cup of punch to my mouth for a sip. "I didn't say all that. Maybe I wanted to get your attention."

  "Oh you did, huh? That's what I was thinking you was doing." He eyed the room for a few moments, then pulled his t-shirt away from his body, fanning himself. "It's muggy in here. I thought Austin was hot but Georgia is on another level. You want to step outside?"

  "Sure. It stinks like ass and feet in here. It's like there's no ventilation."

  We headed for the door, fresh drinks in hand. The air was beginning to cool off and a sweet breeze wound through the trees planted around campus. The leaves rustled, creating nice ambience.

  "So that was a nice little thing they threw in there. Pretty cool. I think I'm going to like this college."

  "Yeah. It was the only choice I had. My parents couldn't pay for me to go to college out of state, so..." I shrugged, lowering myself to a seat on a bench we'd walked over to. KC sat next to me, spreading his long, muscular arms across the back of the bench.

  "You look like you play some kind of sport. I'm guessing basketball. Are you on an athletic scholarship?"

  "Nope," he said, shaking his head. "Academic. I had a few choices, but Healy gave me a good offer. It was just far enough away from home and they sweetened the pot when they said I could walk onto the basketball team. If this knee holds up, I'll be alright."

  He palmed his knee, then rubbed it in gentle circles. "I think it's gonna be okay. Good so far, in practices anyway." He paused, then chuckled. "Man I'm talking to you like I've known you forever."

  "I don't mind," I assured him.

  "I don't want to dominate the conversation. You say something. What are you going to school for?"

  I snorted. "Anything but doing hair. I'm not going to be the third in line to be doing some lady's hair for a living."

  "I heard that. My dad was hoping I'd be a General Contractor like him. No, sir. Cavanaugh GC will be fine without me."

  "Exactly. I mean, the Curl & Dye —that's my Grandy's shop, she and my mama run it— it's okay, if you like small town living. You get to see a lot of people you know on a weekly basis. But I'm setting my sights a little higher. Maybe a business degree. My dad says I have a good head for numbers."

  "Me too. I think some people are born for that kind of thing. Where others are more creative, you know what I'm saying?"

  I nodded, smiling. "Yeah. I do."

  "So what classes are you taking? Maybe we're in some of the same ones." I named off my classes, and was happy to find that we'd chosen the same English Lit class. "Cool. Lemme copy off of you sometimes."

  "Nawl. I don't get into that cheating mess. But we can study together. I'm great at writing papers."

  "How are you at stretching a thousand words into five thousand words, though? That was my trick in high school."

  I laughed. "Pretty good at it."

  We talked some more, then decided to walk back to the dorm together since the party was breaking up. "So, what are you doing the rest of the night?" I asked him.

  "Hanging out with you. What we doin'?" His answer fell out just as easy as if he'd said the sky was blue.

  "I thought I might go get a movie from Blockbuster. I have a TV and a DVD player."

  "Cool. That sounds like a plan. You mind if I roll with you to Blockbuster?"

  "Uhm... sure."

  I waited for him downstairs in the lobby of Morrison Hall while he ran upstairs to grab his keys and wallet. When he came back down, he had changed into a different t-shirt, shorts and sneakers. He'd also brushed his hair, and, I noticed when he came close, had even spritzed on a bit of cologne.

  I felt
like a schmuck walking next to him. I wasn't dressed badly, a pair of white jeans and a form-fitting t-shirt, but I wished I had thought to run upstairs and change like he did.

  We walked to Blockbuster, since it was just a few streets away and the roads around the University were well-lit. We grabbed a couple of movies and added some snacks to the bag, then hiked back to the dorm. He followed me to my room; I keyed the lock and let us in.

  I had a double, but my roommate hadn't arrived yet. He spread out on her bed and kicked off his shoes. His feet hung over the edge of the bed, which made me laugh.

  "Did they order an extra-long bed for you?"

  "Nope," he answered, laughing along with me. "I look like the Jolly Black Giant in these beds. I'm getting used to it though. Gotta curl up in the fetal position, practically." He demonstrated, rolling to his side and curling up. There was a nice little spot that a girl could fit herself into, if she tried.

  I shook my head, trying to clear it of those kinds of thoughts. I couldn't tell if KC was being nice or if he was flirting. Either way, I had a man in my room for the first time ever, and I was going to do my best to keep him in there.

  I pulled out the two movies we'd rented. "Hitch or Man on Fire?"

  "Uh...Hitch," he said, pointing to the one I'd picked out. "That way if it sucks we at least have something to fall back on."

  "It’s not gonna suck." I popped open the case and slid the movie into the slot. The screen lit up with the movie studio's logo and music, and then the previews began. "That's where you're watching? Can you see from over there?"

  "I have excellent vision," he quipped, sitting up, then moving to dominate my bed. "It's that tiny ass TV I can't see."

  I climbed up on the bed and settled into the little space that was leftover. Just what I was aiming for. I was comfortable and almost wrapped up in him. "Not everything is tiny just because you're the Jolly Black Giant, okay?"

  "Okay. But this TV is tiny."

  "Look, just watch the movie on the tiny ass TV."

  We watched both movies that night. KC ate all of the Jujubes and the Mike & Ike's. I ate most of the Red Vines but he finished them off. By the time the movies were over and he was standing in the doorway, yawning and stretching and popping his limbs, we were almost the best of friends.

  “See you tomorrow,” he mumbled. I leaned against the doorjamb, watching him drag his feet down the hall toward the other end of the floor. He didn’t even try to kiss me… so I figured he wasn’t interested. But he was cool, so… maybe I’d just made a friend.

  That was our whole freshman year. Movies. Meals. Studying. Classes. Coffee. Snacks. Campus parties. Games.

  Friends. Close friends. Really close friends.

  But not boyfriend and girlfriend.

  I wanted that. I was too chicken to open my mouth and say it. KC was oblivious to my crush on him, and by the time I was ready to say something, he started dating some sorority girl that got on my damn nerves.

  That summer was hard. I didn't want to say goodbye to KC but at least it wouldn't be for long. He had basketball camp, so after only six weeks he was back. I drove to Healy a few times a week to hang out with him until classes started, and then we were back on campus.

  And he'd broken it off with that annoying sorority girl.

  We'd decided to register for a business course that fall. We had to get approval to register and at the end of the course, we were basically vying for a highly coveted internship at IBM. KC and I were front runners and it was hard to tell, from day to day, who was doing better.

  The day KC told me I could have the internship, because he was dropping out, was one of the worst days of my life. Not just dropping the class, but leaving Healy.

  He had different, better plans, apparently, than hanging out at a small town college with me.

  Maybe I overreacted… but I felt like I had good reason to. I never expected him to call my bluff.

  Chapter Nine

  KC

  * * *

  "So... you went to her house, man? Her house? Like... where she lives?"

  Kendrick sat in his barber chair, sipping on a cup of coffee. We didn't open for another half hour, but like me, he liked to get in while the shop was quiet, before the lines started forming and the low murmur of voices and the buzz of clippers filled the air.

  I sat in the chair next to him, Erik's spot. I'd been talking to Kendrick and TC about getting after the guys to clean up better. Erik's spot was filthy, with hair gathered in the corners around his station and dried up drops of sanitation liquid all over the countertop. His combs were shoved in haphazard places, his mirrors were just sitting out. Our reputation was everything and I didn't think we could afford anyone talking rough about how we didn't keep the place looking nice.

  Our conversation had meandered to Kendrick asking what had been keeping me so busy. And so quiet. I'd been at home or at Rooster's coffee shop, working on what I wanted to say to the city council. I'd made visits to each of the owners of the businesses in the strip mall where Guys N' Dolls rented space, and then spread out to the shops down one side of the newly formed street and up the other side.

  We all heard the same party line from Mayor Adams, that there was money, incentives, tax breaks for bringing our dreams and our checkbooks to Potter Lake. Few had heard anything from the Mayor since opening. A few of them, like me, had been running him down for their money.

  All were surprised, angry even to hear that there was actually no money. All were ready to join me at the city council meeting the following evening to confront the Mayor on the issue.

  I'd told Kendrick about going out to see Leslie to ask for her help in getting the other side of Potter Lake involved in the protest. He lowered the cup of coffee he'd been drinking and stared at me as if I'd grown horns.

  “I heard she was living back at home so I stopped by. Ms. Lee made me the most amazing meatloaf sandwich— "

  "Yo, wait. Her mom made you a sandwich? Like, you were at the house long enough to get a meal? She didn't kick you out?"

  I wagged my head. "Nah. She didn't invite me inside or anything. We sat on the porch and talked. Her mom came out to say hey. She remembered me from when Leslie and I were at Healy together."

  Kendrick and I had been friends since my sophomore year at Healy. He was my roommate, so he'd met Leslie but didn't know her very well. Like me, he'd heard that she'd packed up and followed some guy to Chicago after graduation. That she was back here was as much news to him as it was to me.

  "So what did Leslie have to say about the Mayor? Did she defend his shady ass?"

  "Nope. The opposite. She's not a fan. I haven't heard from her but I think I've got her on my side."

  "Surprising, considering she hates you."

  "Hates me?" I waived Kendrick off as if the very thought was ridiculous. "She doesn't hate me. She's just..."

  "Still mad?"

  "She'll get over it."

  "She hasn't yet. It's been damn near fifteen years."

  "I don't think she's been mad for all those years. I think she's mad again, now that we've seen each other. Had some words—”

  "And now that your shop being open means hers is in trouble."

  "And... yeah, there's that." I propped my elbows onto the armrests of the chair, clasped my hands and rested my chin on my knuckles. "I'm not sure what to expect tomorrow night. I think that's what's bothering me the most right now."

  "You mean you might shoot your shot and then have to come back here and still have to deal with the Mayor?”

  "Exactly."

  "Welp..." Kendrick turned up his cup, downing the rest of his coffee, then tossed it into the garbage can next to the front desk. "How serious are you about running against him? The next election is in October. That's not a lot of time. That's a lot of money and work. And what if you win? What about the shop? What about— "

  "Ay!" I held up a hand against the onslaught of questions, trying not to let the nervousness bubble up through my laugh
ter. "Are you trying to stress me into doing nothing? Let's handle one problem at a time. First, I need to know who's going to stand with me at that meeting tomorrow. I gotta talk to Leslie and see if she's going to help me out."

  "Yeah, good luck with that, man. You'll need it."

  I slid out of the chair and raised a fist to Kendrick. He bumped it and I turned toward my office. TC would be arriving in a few minutes to open the registers and begin the business day. I had a long list of things I needed to take care of around the shop, things I'd been neglecting in the past week, like burnt out light bulbs and having the front windows cleaned, fixing one of the dryers on the Dolls side of the shop.

  My list kept me busy for a few hours. I took my time, watched traffic flow in and out, joked with a few customers and even signed a couple of autographs. By early afternoon, I had wasted enough time and put it off long enough. I grabbed my keys and tipped out of the shop, throwing up a peace sign behind me.

  "I'll be back," I told them as I walked out of the front door and stepped to the jet black Escalade I'd bought when I retired from basketball. I paid cash for it, because I wasn't sure how long the money I had saved would stretch and the last thing I wanted was to have a vehicle repossessed. Who knew if I'd have to live in it someday?

  I pressed the unlock button and heard the alarm and the locks disengage. I climbed into the seat and started her up, then backed out of my reserved space in the strip mall parking lot.

  I was being dramatic, of course, about living in my truck. My parents had raised TC and me with a healthy respect for and a good understanding of money. That knowledge turned out to be useful. There were so many things I could spend my money on. And so many more free things thrown at me, left and right. Everybody wanted me to be seen wearing their gear, their clothing, using their equipment, their electronics. In my prime, my endorsement deals were out of control.

  It felt funny, at first, having a lot of money. Our family was comfortable but never well off. Even with the rookie cap and paying an accountant and an agent, I was making more than I'd ever dreamt I could, doing something that I loved to do. Certainly making more money than I would have made sitting in classes at Healy, being the star player on a college basketball team and trying to land a moderately paid summer internship.