Fast Life

by Cassandra Carter

  Kyra threw a bottle of shampoo as hard as she could onto the floor of the tub in frustration before she turned off the faucet. She was about to leave the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her shivering body, when she came to a standstill and found herself staring at her reflection in the large mirror.

  She dropped her towel and stared at her body in this full, unobstructed view. She looked down at her pedicured feet, up to her shapely legs, her flat stomach, nice-sized breasts, full lips and catlike eyes and finally to her dripping wet curly hair.

  With a body that most girls would kill for, Kyra felt unhappy with her appearance for the first time. She had looked the same for so long. Her attitude and lifestyle had been through a whirlwind of transformations in the past few years, but her look still stayed the same, with only new outfits or hairstyles altering it now and then. There was nothing dramatic or drastic, nothing permanent.

  Kyra took her hair in her hand, studied it closely, and then let it limply drop. That was when an idea came to her. She felt it was a stroke of genius. It was late at night and she wasn’t in the best state of mind, but she searched the bathroom drawers for the crucial item to carry out her plan anyway. It didn’t take her long to find them. They were sharp, and they shone in the makeup lights around the mirror as she took them out of their dark storage space. The two joined blades would bring her just the change she craved just the change she needed.

  Kyra went into her room, making sure to lock the door behind her, and quickly threw on her purple silk robe. She snatched the scissors from where they had landed on her bed and hesitantly took a seat at her vanity. She brushed her hair roughly until no trace of a wave or curl remained, and while she held the end of one section, she slowly brought the blades to her hair.

  She stopped for a second, unsure whether she really wanted to go through with her stroke of genius as she stared at her hair in the mirror and then up at her puffy eyes and the traces of eyeliner around them. It was at that moment that she did it. She cut off a lock of her hair. The scissors slicing through the strands one by one sounded good to her, and she wanted to hear more.

  As she worked on her hair, she cut small bits at first and then grabbed bigger amounts. She sat there for hours, scrunching her eyes tightly shut and listening to the sound of the scissors at work. She only opened her eyes to see the new length of her hair and the pieces that littered the floor. By the time she was finished being her own personal hairstylist, it was evident that she had enjoyed the sound of her idea in action a little too much.

  The next morning Kyra awoke to find herself facedown on the floor, with her headphones repeatedly blaring Beyoncé. She slowly sat up, wincing at the pain that shot up her back from her rough night on the floor, and irritably threw her headphones across the room. She was in a daze as she wiped her eyes. She was trying to grasp the concept of being awake when her vision began to clear, revealing an alarming sight.

  She stared at the floor, covered in curly locks of dark brown hair. The hair looked just like hers. It was hers. Her hand rushed to meet her head and she felt around for her hair. She frantically sat up and stared at her reflection in utter horror, releasing a scream so loud it was a horror movie director’s dream.

  What had she done? Her hair looked terrible. It was uneven and too short. Her hair didn’t even touch her shoulders anymore. It looked roughly cut, even butchered. Whatever it was, it was more than unsightly and she was more than discontented with it.

  Suddenly the doorbell echoed throughout the house.

  Shit!

  Kyra tied her robe tightly and snatched a hat out of her closet as she scrambled to the door to see that Angel had stopped by to pay her a visit. As she opened the door, a worried expression crept over Angel’s face.

  “Hey…I, uh, came by to see how you were doing, but I…uh…see that you don’t seem to be too good.” She looked over Kyra’s odd appearance. A silk robe and a Kangol hat weren’t exactly flattering.

  “Come in quick!” Kyra pulled her friend inside, looking around outside to make sure no one had caught a glimpse of her before she shut the door.

  “Girl, what is wrong with you? You’re acting like you’re on crack or something.”

  “Angel, I did somethin’ bad.”

  “How bad?” Angel asked. By her face, you could tell she was already afraid of what the answer might be.

  “Too bad.”

  “What is it?”

  “Promise you won’t laugh, and you can’t tell nobody.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you already know—Oh shit!” She screamed when she saw Kyra remove her hat, showing off her hairstyle from hell.

  She covered her mouth with her hands to try to cover up, but it was too late.

  “It’s not that bad….”

  “You don’t have to lie to me. I look a hot mess!” Kyra painfully admitted, throwing herself down on the couch.

  “Okay, you’re right,” Angel admitted as Kyra threw her a glare. “Sorry!”

  “What am I gonna do?”

  “I don’t know, but whatever it is you better do it before three.”

  “What’s at three?”

  “Quentin’s graduation.”

  “Damn!”

  “I understand if you don’t want to go after last night and everything….”

  “You knew, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, I knew. I told him he needed to tell you…” She paused before she continued, “I’m sorry. I should’ve never gone along with it. That’s why if you don’t want to come…”

  “No, no, you’re cool. I’ll go. It’s an important day and I don’t wanna miss it. Especially not over anythin’ involvin’ Justin’s lyin’, cheatin’ ass.”

  “Are you two still together?” Angel asked with true wonder in her voice.

  “Yeah, for now…why?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.” She demanded.

  Angel silently looked at her friend and then down at her nails, growing nervous under Kyra’s thirsty stare.

  “Because last night when you left, I noticed some lipstick on him, and then for the rest of the night he danced with some girl. I think her name is Angela or something. She has a reputation, if you know what I mean.”

  “Well, yeah, we’re together. Not for long, though.” Kyra was heated at the new information.

  “Have you talked to him?”

  “No, and I don’t wanna. Fuck him.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “How are you gonna tell me what I mean?”

  “Kyra, I can’t justify anything he did with another girl because there is never a justification for cheating, and I know that if Quentin ever did I would lose it, too. But I can say he lied to you about everything else for a good reason.”

  “What kind of good reason is there to lie?”

  “Ask him later. It’s not my place to say.”

  “I already asked him and he lied about it. I can’t trust what he says.”

  Angel took a deep sigh and looked out the window at the stretching area of green, freshly cut lawn. “Come on, let’s go take care of your hair.” She put an end to the subject while readjusting her purse on her shoulder.

  “I’m not goin’ nowhere. Not like this.” Kyra folded her arms in resistance.

  “What are you going to do, then?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Well, you need to figure it out because the clock is ticking. I know a salon that can help you.”

  “Hell no. I don’t trust a salon around here. I’ve seen those places and I’ve seen the results when people come out of them. No salons.” She ruled out her friend’s idea as she stood from her seat on the couch and hustled into the bathroom. She returned with a rectangular box in her hand.

  “Strait Shades Colorlaxer; iridescent blond.” Angel read the print on the box aloud.

  “It’s my mom’s. She’s had it for a while now and she hasn’t used it. Maybe if we straighten it, it’ll look longer?”

  “We?” Angel r
aised an eyebrow at the statement.

  “Actually, it would be more like…you.”

  “No. Uh-uh! If you hair falls out or if it turns orange, you’re not about to blame it on me! That is what the salons are for. They got people there who know how to do this. Professionals, which I am not.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s got instructions. All you gotta do is follow them. I don’t want some stranger up in my head.”

  “I guess I could even it up and just follow the directions,” Angel hesitantly agreed as she took in the sight of Kyra’s short, uneven head of curls.

  “Ah, thank you!” Kyra shrieked as she pulled her friend into a hug.

  “Come on, let’s go, let’s go. We don’t have a lot of time.” She let out a chuckle as she shooed Kyra toward the bathroom.

  Kyra rushed into the school building and made her way to the auditorium, one of the many renovations provided by the Pierce family after the incident with Richard. She spotted Angel in the jam-packed audience. She wascalling Kyra’s name and waving a scarf in the air to catch her attention. Kyra scooted her way down the long row to the seat Angel had saved, taking Justin by surprise. He was seated next to Michael on the other side of Angel. On the other side of him was an older couple Kyra assumed were his parents.

  As Quentin walked across the stage and shook hands with Mr. McKnight while accepting his diploma, Kyra and Justin briefly locked eyes. That was the only kind of interaction she cared to have with him for the entire ceremony.

  “Congratulations, Q! You did it, boy!” Kyra said. The ceremony had let out only minutes ago, and the crowd had dispersed onto the lawn. She was last to give Quentin her congratulations.

  “I like your hair,” he complimented her.

  “I helped her do it,” Angel interjected with pride.

  “Son, who is this young lady?” Mr. Hartwell asked Quentin. He didn’t recognize Kyra.

  “Dad…this is my girlfriend…” Justin answered. He was unsure what his father’s reaction would be, since he had been forbidden to see Kyra months ago.

  “I’m his friend Kyra,” Kyra corrected him, and shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Hartwell.

  “This is Kyra?” Mrs. Hartwell asked her son. She was in disbelief that the classy girl before her was the same person she had heard such negative things about from Mrs. Pierce and her daughter.

  “Yup, that’s me,” she answered for Justin, who now stood quietly with his hands in his pockets.

  “Won’t you join us for dinner?” His mother was much more open and friendly than her husband.

  “I wish I could. Really I do. But I have to go. It was nice meeting you, and congratulations again, Q.” The last thing she wanted to do was sit at a table with Justin for hours over a family dinner.

  Kyra began her walk back home, contemplating the fact that she was just now meeting the Hartwells when her relationship with Justin was about to be over.

  Was he ashamed to bring me home to them or somethin’? she mused. She was just warming up to the wave of thoughts she felt coming on.

  “Kyra! Kyra! Wait up!” Justin called to her as he jogged to catch up with her. She continued to walk, ignoring his outcries until he grabbed her by the arm, halting her where she stood.

  “What do you want, Justin?”

  “We really need to talk.”

  “We don’t have anythin’ to talk about, if you ask me.”

  “Come on, Kyra…”

  “Okay, you want to talk, let’s talk! Let’s talk about how you lied to me! About how you kissed Veronica last night and how you were grindin’ up on someone named Angela! How about we talk about that? Take your fuckin’ pick, Justin!” As she exploded, Justin took her to the side of the lane. He hid her behind a tree so no one would see or hear their argument. He didn’t want to cause a scene.

  “Look, I know that me lying to you must seem really…bad.”

  “Oh, bad doesn’t describe it!”

  “Let me explain.”

  She went to speak again, but he hushed her.

  “Let me explain….” he repeated in a gentle tone.

  “I’m listenin’, but make it quick. I don’t have all day.”

  “I know I lied to you about my family, and I know that at the dance I lied to you when you asked me about it, but I swear to you I was going to tell you. I didn’t know what to do at the dance….”

  “How about…hmm, I dunno…tell the truth? I was bound to find out sooner or later!”

  “Look, the only reason I lied to you is that coming from a family like mine, you tend to run into…gold diggers…and when I met you I wanted to make sure things were different. And they were. You were—are. You’ve been down for me and only me, and I love you for that.”

  “So you thought I was just some gold digger?”

  “No, I wanted to make sure you weren’t, and you aren’t.”

  “Make sure for what?”

  “I just told you!” Out of frustration, he inhaled deeply. When he went to speak again, his voice was low and relaxed. “I mean, Kyra, you made me feel different. Ever since I saw you in the market, there was something about you. I just wanted to make sure that if we had something, it was real. I didn’t want it to be like my past relationships. I wanted to know that you liked me for me, not for what I could give you.”

  “Okay, so say you are tellin’ the truth about all that, what was that bullshit with Veronica last night? I saw you kiss her, so don’t try and lie about that one.”

  “She kissed me!”

  “Oh, and you looked like you really hated it, Justin! What the hell were you two doin’ by the pond alone anyways? It’s no secret what goes on back there!” she yelled in reference to all the scandalous stories that circulated through school.

  “I had to talk to her about something, and I swear she came on to me. I pushed her off me. Didn’t you see me push her?”

  “The only pushin’ I saw was her pushin’ her nasty tongue in your damn mouth! And then what is this shit I hear about with an Angela? I leave the party for an hour and you’re dancin’ on some hoochie for the rest of the night?”

  “We were just dancing. It’s not like she means anything to me anymore….”

  “Anymore?”

  “Yeah. We used to have something awhile back,” Justin admitted.

  “Wow. You are unbelievable.” Kyra stepped back and narrowed her eyes.

  “Kyra.” He reached his hand out to caress her, only for her to recoil out of his reach.

  “Don’t touch me.” She looked at the ground and then back up at him. “I just dunno what to believe anymore with you. I can’t believe anythin’ you tell me.”

  “We can start over….”

  “I can’t.” She struggled to get the words out as she shook her head. This was more painful than she had anticipated.

  CHAPTER 16

  By the time Kyra had made her way up her street, her feet ached from her sandals. Her eyes were now dry as they took in the setting sun painting the sky as though it were its own canvas, with beautiful colors no painter on earth could create.

  She stopped for a moment to take in the magnificent sight, her house only a little ways in the distance, and then she first caught sight of it. She cautiously started her trek back to her house and the cream-colored Bentley that sat in its driveway. In all her life, she’d known only one person who had money like that, or even close to it.

  Despite any second-guessing, she knew deep down whose expensive car it was that sat in her driveway. Her intuition about his presence was like a sixth sense and was as powerful as ever. Now it was just a question of believability. Kyra’s gut instinct was confirmed when she made her way to the stairs of her home.

  There he stood on the porch in his cream-colored Armani suit with cream gators to match. His usually braided hair was tied back in a ponytail, with a custom-made cream fitted cap covering his head.

  Kyra noticed the diamond in his ear, as wide as a dime, and the diamond-encrusted watch on his wrist. They shimm
ered in even the smallest bit of light. She was mesmerized by this new person in front of her as she watched the toothpick dance around on his soft lips, and she could not prevent her dark brown eyes from meeting his piercing hazel ones.

  “Hey, baby girl,” Makai greeted her with a tender tone.

  “Makai?”

  “Yeah, it’s me, baby girl.” He took a steady step toward her. “You’re looking real sexy, girl. I love your hair like that,” he complimented her, reaching out and caressing some of her newly short and blond hair. She jerked back as soon as his hand made contact with her body. An awkward stillness followed.

  “What the hell do you want, Kai?” she bluntly asked.

  “I made a promise, and I’m a man of my word. So here I am,” he announced. His eighteenth birthday had just passed a week ago.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Kai,” she growled as she pushed her way past him and into her house, only to have him follow her inside. “What the hell do you think you are doin’?”

  “So this is how you are gonna treat a brotha after he came down all the way from the Windy City just to see you?”

  “No, this is how I treat a triflin’-ass nigga who did me wrong.” Kyra disappeared into her bedroom.

  “Where’s li’l man? I wanna see him.” Makai stood in the doorway and leaned against the door panel. He watched her move about the room as she cleaned up the mess she had created earlier while rushing to get ready for Quentin’s graduation.

  “Little man?”

  “My son.”

  “Who said it would have been a boy?” she challenged.

  “Would have been?”

  “Yeah, you said for me to get rid of it, remember? Don’t worry about it, though. It was a false alarm anyway. Nothin’ to mess things up between you and your beloved Mercedes.”

  “I’m not wit’ that ho no more.”

  “Good for you. Want a medal? You need to go get tested. That’s what you need to do.”