"Cute! Okay, now turn to the side," my hairstylist, Deja, instructed as she took a million pictures and videos of the fresh feed in braids she just gave me.
After I helped her pick a few to post and she airdropped them to me, I paid her and then headed home.
The modern looking glass buildings slowly faded to brick as I drove from her shop downtown to the northside, where I live with my mother. We live on the outskirts of the city and it's not as nice as it is over on the eastside or downtown, but there's not nearly as much crime and poverty as there is in the hood out west and on the southside.
The crisp, fall air flowing through my cracked windows, Jhene Aiko's smooth voice playing through my speakers, the fact that I just got my hair, nails, and brows done for the first time since classes started a month ago, and the satisfaction of knowing that since it's Saturday, I can give myself a small break from school put me in a place of perfect peace. The vibe was perfect.
Four weeks into the first semester of my sophomore year of college, and I'm already over it. Well, not completely over it, but very overwhelmed. I'm taking 18 credit hours, and trying to get ahead on my work before I start to get lazy, like I did last semester. My classes really aren't bad, just a lot of work. The only class I know I'm gonna have a hard time with is calculus. I hate math, but luckily Nikki and I have that class together, so we have each other to struggle with together.
Pulling into the carport next to my mom's white Ford Explorer, I turned the music down a little and then sunk back in my seat, finally really looking through all the pictures and videos Deja took. I posted my favorite one to my insta story, then turned my car off and started for my front door.
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To my surprise, as soon as I turned the key to enter my house, my mom pulled the door open from the other side.
"Ooo, those are cute." she smiled, putting her sunglasses on. "How much did you pay?"
"60." I shrugged.
"Not bad." She walked around me as she unlocked her truck. "I'm running to the store, wanna come?"
I thought about it for a second; I really don't want to go, but she's about to leave for a business trip and I do want to spend as much time with her as I can before she leaves me to go on another one of her business trips.
"Sure," I answered, re-locking the front door of our home.
Twenty minutes later, I was walking beside her, laughing and joking as she pushed our basket down the snack aisle.
