First Love

Chpt. 39

|V I C K I|

After 2 weeks of being cramped up in my hotel suite feeling sorry for myself I finally went back to work. Since today was a Saturday, the shop was super busy and crowded---I could honestly say it was full to it's greatest capacity.

The scent of relaxer, hair spray and heat covered the air while Solange's classic album, A Seat at the Table, played on the radio bringing a bohemiam vibe to the atmosphere. I looked around at the diversity of Black women chatting among themselves---Black women of different colors, cultures, ethnicities and religious beliefs. They were all from different walks of life---ranging from doctors and college professors to strippers and prostitutes.

"How's that cute little boy of yours doing sweet heart?" Ms. Jamelia, one of my older clients, asked as I was curling her hair.

"He's doing fine Ms. Jamelia." I combed a piece of her silver hair before curling it with my curling iron. "He throws little tantrum here and there but he's fine."

She giggled. "That boy reminds me so much of my grandson. Maybe they could have a play date one day", she suggested.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea, I'll think on it."

I heard a familiar voice greeting everybody and I looked up to see it was none other than Amiah.

I watched as she engaged in a goofy conversation with some of my stylists. Feeling my eyes on her, she looked over at me and waved. She ended her conversation and made her way towards my direction, smiling cheerfully without a care in the world.

I hated her for looking so happy when I was over here feeling so misreable.

"Hey girl...I been trying to reach you since yesterday? Where you been?"

Completely ignoring her presence, I continued curling Ms. Jamelia's hair as if she wasn't even there.

"Vick? Hello? Did you hear me?" She asked, confused by the silent treatment I was throwing her way.

I continued to ignore her, refusing to give her any type of verbal response---not allowing her to get a rise out of me.

"Hello, earth to Vickoya", she said jokingly, playfully nudging my shoulder.

The anger was building up inside of me and I was trying my hardest to keep my composure since I was at my place of business. Not wanting to step out of my professionalism, I continued ignoring her hoping she'd take the hint and finally go away.

"Vick, what's going on with you?" She said in a now serious tone.

Aggravated that she wouldn't go away, I stopped curling Ms. Jamelia's hair and turned to face her to demand she leave my shop, but when I looked into her oblivious face all I could feel was rage, rage so strong that it shifted me into another person---a dangerous person---as I slapped her repeatedly across the face with the hot ass curling iron I was holding in my hand. She screamed out in pain and fell backwards on the floor where I kicked her several times before bending down and punching her in the face with a fist full of her blonde hair clenched in my other hand.

"Get her the hell off of me!!" She yelled out as several of the women in my shop pulled me off of her.

Ciara, the receptionist, held me back trying to restrain me so I wouldn't launch at Amiah again. I looked at her lying pathetically on the floor and it took everything in my soul not to spit on her. "Get out!" I yelled at her. "I want your ass out of my shop! NOW!"

Amiah got up off the floor, wincing in pain. Her hair was all out of place and there was a red burn mark the size of a quarter on her left cheek. She rubbed her bruised cheek, looking at me in shock over what I just did to her---her shock soon turned into anger as she shot daggers at me. "I don't know what in the hell has gotten into you but I'm pressing charges against your ass!" She yelled, seething with anger. "You just fuckin attacked me for no reason! What in the hell is the matter with you." She reached down and started picking up her earrings that were scattered on the floor.