One of Us Is Dead(37)

Keisha started to compose herself, tightening her lips and avoiding eye contact. But I knew it was now or never.

I closed the distance between us, standing just inches from her. There was a moment of stillness, of reckoning between us, before Keisha took one small step forward. Tentatively, our lips met as her right hand caressed the side of my face. I found myself instantly responding. I kissed her so hard and with such passion that all the sexual frustration melted out of my body like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. She dropped the spray tan unit, and it clunked when it hit the ground. Tanning liquid spilled onto the floor, and we stood in a puddle of it. She wrapped her arms around me, pressing her lips firmly against mine. Our tongues tingled. Our lips moistened. She grabbed my breasts for a moment, then slid her hands down my stomach. I took off her shirt and bra, revealing perky B-cup breasts. I immediately dove onto them, but she brought my face up to kiss her again and again. I had never been with a woman before, minus some experimentation in college. Perhaps it wasn’t just experimentation though, because I seemed to know exactly what to do, as though I should have been doing this all along. Her hand slithered across my belly, then down to my pelvis. Just as she was about to venture farther, the front door chimed.





29

Shannon


I marched right into the salon. No one was at the front desk, so I called out and saw myself to the back, pushing the black curtains to the side. I had no time to waste. I was a woman on a mission. I had apologies to make and a life to turn around. It was dead quiet when I entered the back area. Then I heard giggles from the tanning room. Keisha came out first, her feet a strange brown-and-orange color and a wide smile plastered on her face.

“Did you miss the target?” I pointed at her feet. She looked down.

“The machine malfunctioned and spilled,” she said with a laugh. “Did you have an appointment?”

“Nope. I need nothing done—just a lemonade, and I owe you an apology.” I took a seat in one of the pedicure chairs. “Keisha, I’m sorry. I should have never acted the way I did yesterday.”

“You are forgiven. And lemonade, you got it,” she said, pointing at me.

She poured me a glass and handed it over. “I’ll turn on the bubbles,” Keisha added.

I slid my feet into the warm water. That was easier than I thought it’d be, but then again, Keisha was never one to hold grudges. She was carefree and a breath of fresh air in this town. I knew she had seen the video, but she pretended she hadn’t. Keisha was good like that. She could forgive and forget.

Karen emerged from the spray tan room. Her skin flushed. Her lips were plump. And her eyes lit up. She smiled as she walked in a white tank and blue jean shorts, and I noticed her feet were orange and blotchy too.

“Spray tan machine got you too, I see,” I said, staring at her feet.

She looked down and blushed. “Yeah, it malfunctioned in the middle of my session.”

“That’s what Keisha was saying,” I confirmed. “You’re staying, right?”

“Yeah, I was going to get a pedicure.” She glanced at Keisha with a half smile.

“Great, have a seat next to me. We have loads to talk about.” I patted the chair beside me.

Karen climbed into it. Keisha brought her a glass of lemonade and filled her foot tub. I turned on the massager on my chair, and Karen did the same.

“Are you doing okay? You seem to be in a much better mood today,” Karen commented. Her eyes bounced over to me.

Keisha picked up Karen’s foot and massaged it ever so tenderly, paying special attention to each of her toes.

“I think I am.” I nodded.

“The video was taken down.”

“I know. Thank you,” I said with a small smile.

“How are you feeling about everything that happened?” Keisha asked.

“Good,” I said. They both smiled at me. “And not good.” They both frowned.

“Why the former?” Karen asked.

“And why the latter?” Keisha asked.

They gave each other a look of understanding and me a look of compassion. Why were they finishing each other’s sentences? I wanted to assure them that I was fine—that I was better than fine, that I was so grateful for being able to see myself the way others had seen me. It was a wake-up call and a tough pill to swallow, but I knew that despite how I was feeling right now—embarrassed and pathetic—it would make me a stronger person. It made me realize that I didn’t need Bryce. That I could be confident and powerful all on my own, just as soon as I got my shit together. I needed a makeover, not for looks, but for life.

“Good because I realized I don’t need a man to be me. Not good because it took two completely humiliating incidents and a semiviral video to learn that.” I gripped my glass a little tighter, then took a deep breath, and let the tension flow out of me.

They exchanged concerned glances.

“I think it’s great that you know you don’t need a man to be you and to be happy,” Keisha encouraged while massaging the top of Karen’s foot. Her toes curled in ecstasy.

“I never said I was happy.” I took a large drink, swallowing so quickly that the gulp hurt the back of my throat. Everything was so hard to swallow these days.

“Okay then, you don’t need a man . . . to be you,” Keisha corrected. I caught Karen wink at her. I wasn’t sure why she did, but I thought it was cute. I had been a fan of women supporting other women (before Crystal came along), so to see this sweet exchange brought me a little joy. I wanted more of that in my life, and I hated that I had started to become a person who despised other women. I didn’t want to be that, but sometimes you become the person you hate the most.