Braid
Out: Style formed by unbraiding the hair after individual braids or cornrows.
~~~
Hair
tip #19: Avoid hair accessories with metal parts or anything that can snag in
your hair. Not only are they painful when they get caught in your hair, but
they can also cause damage.
~~~
My
ankle wasn't really that bad. They forget I was a college athlete. I was used to
an injury here or there. But the Bishop family treated me as if my life was
touch and go.
I
ate Thanksgiving dinner on the couch with my foot elevated. Jen, Jess, and
Trent ate on the floor in front of me in order to keep me company. And when
dinner was over and everyone was exhausted, Trent carried me up to my room.
"Trent,
I'm fine. I can walk," I said.
"I
can't let you walk. My family would kill me. You led us to our first
Bacherman
victory in eight years. Isn't it obvious that
they like you much better than me?" He smiled. "What kind of fiancée
would I be if I let you walk on a broken ankle," he teased.
"It's
not broken.
Just sprained.
I've had sprained ankles
before."
We
fell into a heightened silence as Trent reached the top of the stairs.
"You
know, you're like a different person when you're with your family," I
said. "I haven't seen you smile this much since the Arbor Day party."
"I
was drunk out of my mind at that party."
"Yep,"
I said as we reached the twins' room.
We
entered and Trent continued to hold me in his arms right in front of the bed.
With my head against his chest, I could feel him breathing in and out and the
steady rhythm of his heart.
"Are
you sure I didn't slip and say anything to you that night?" he asked still
holding me.
"Anything like what?"
Why was he bringing this up now?
I didn't want to think about how he had confessed his love to me while he was
in a drunken stupor. Not now in this position. It was too freaking romantic. I
was not in the mood for romantic. And, honestly, neither was he. Neither one of
us was ready for romantic.
"Nothing.
Never
mind."
He set me down gently on the bed. With his face inches from
mine he whispered, "Goodnight."
I
couldn't sleep that night. I couldn't get Trent out of my head. Trent Bishop.
What in the world was happening to me? This was ridiculous. I needed a drink
and not milk or tea. I needed something a bit stronger. I wondered if they had
any red wine in the house. I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and stood
up slowly putting weight on my ankle. It was a little painful, but not that
bad.
Certainly not bad enough to keep me away from a glass of
wine.
As
I stepped out of the bedroom, Trent came out of the bathroom. He had a towel
wrapped around his waist and his hair was dripping wet.
"What
are you doing?" he said in a forced whisper.
Trying
not to think about what's under that towel. Thankfully, I didn't say that out
loud.
"I-I
… was thirsty," I stuttered.
"Wait
there." He slipped into his room and emerged seconds later wearing
sweatpants and holding a coke. "Here," he said, handing me the soda.
"Uh,
I wasn't that kind of thirsty."
He
rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said sweeping me up into his arms and
whisking me down the stairs. He set me down in the recliner next to what looked
like a liquor cabinet and asked me what I wanted to drink.
"Got
any merlot?"
"Does
my dad look like he drinks merlot? We've got brandy, gin and rum. What'll it
be?"
"Brandy."
Trent
poured me a glass and handed it over. Then he sat on the floor and stared up at
me. "You're not having any?" I asked.
He
shook his head. "I think it best I don't drink in front of you
anymore."
"So
you're just going to sit there and look at me?"
He
turned away. "Fine, I won't look at you. I'll just wait till you finish and
carry you back up the stairs."
"I
told you, you don't have to do that."
"And
I told you, if anything happens to you, my family will disown me and adopt
you."
I
smiled and sipped my Brandy. That was the cranky Trent I was used to.
"Okay,
I'm done," I said a few minutes later. I felt all warm and tingly from the
Brandy. It wasn't a drink I was used to and I think it had already started to
affect me.
"So
why were you taking a shower in the middle of the night?" I asked as he
carried me up the stairs.
"Couldn't sleep."
"Why?"
I asked.
He
cleared his throat and said, "Couldn't get someone out of my head."
"Who?"
He
paused at the top of the stairs. I could feel his heartbeat thumping faster and
faster next to my ear.
Instead
of answering, he set me down right outside of his sisters’ bedroom.
"Goodnight,
Mahogany."
He
turned to walk away, but I grabbed the side of his sweatpants and pulled him
back to me. "You didn't answer my question," I said. "Who can't
you get out of your head?" I had a feeling I already knew the answer to
that question. And from the expression on his face I could tell I was right.
Trent
pressed his body against mine pushing me into the wall. "What are you
doing, Annie?" he whispered, his breath brushing against my cheek.
I
felt like my heart was throbbing in my throat. Was this really happening? When
I felt his lips against mine, I knew the answer to that.
Our
bodies molded into one as the kiss evolved into something deeper. I felt the
kiss pulse through me as if I was getting electric shock therapy. It was a
sensation I had never felt before.
Definitely not with
Jaames
and not even with
Vinny
.
Don't get me wrong, I used to love kissing
Vinny
. I
loved
Vinny
, but this kiss was so powerful it was
epic. He literally took my breath away.
Trent
lifted me off the ground and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I had to
stifle a moan when he moved his lips away from my mouth and to the right side
of my neck. The night he got drunk I remember him saying I had a freckle on my
neck that he thought was incredibly sexy. I wondered if that was the spot he
was now kissing.
Somehow
the door opened and we stumbled into the twins' room.
"I
want you so bad, Annie," he said as he set me on the bed. Something about
the way he called me Annie excited me more than I expected. Maybe it was the
fact that he was the only one in the world who called me that.
I
reached under his shirt and felt
those
abs that I had
begun to crave. Trent leaned up and whipped off his t-shirt. My God he was
sexy. And the way he kissed me made me want to scream out in ecstasy. If I knew
he could kiss like this I would have been doing this a long time ago.
"
Vinny
," I said. I don't know why I said that I don't
know how I could confuse Trent for
Vinny
. They were
nothing alike. Maybe it was the fact that I actually felt kind of guilty. After
seven years with
Vinny
, he had never made me feel the
way Trent had in about thirty-five seconds.
Trent
froze.
Literally.
I felt his skin turn cold. He
climbed off the bed and silently picked up his shirt.
"Trent.
I'm sorry," I said knowing that a simple apology was not going to be
enough. Trent had been left at the altar for another man and I had just called
him by my ex-boyfriend's name. What a way to kill the moment.
"I...Uh...I'm
gonna
go." He turned toward the door. "I'll
take you home in the morning."
"Trent
wait
." But he didn't. He walked out of the door
without another word.
~~~
Having
cornrows in my hair for a few days led to a great braid out. I took my time in
the morning unbraiding my hair and finger combing it into a nice crinkly fro.
My hair looked incredible but I felt like crap. How could I do this to Trent?
It wasn't like I even wanted
Vinny
anymore. That was
something the last few days had shown me. And one kiss from Trent had confirmed
it. I was in love with Trent Bishop. I had to fix this. Unfortunately, I had no
idea how.
Banding:
A method used to stretch the hair that often works better than braids or twists.
Section the hair, and a rubber band close to the scalp. Pull the hair straight
as you add more bands all the way down the hair to the ends.
~~~
Hair
tip #20: When trying this process, make sure to use the bands without the metal
clip so it won't pull out your hair when you take them out in the morning.
~~~
Trent
wasn't there the next morning. Apparently he had left before dawn to go for a
jog and hadn't returned. By three o'clock that afternoon Jessica offered to
drive me back to DC.
"So,
did you and my brother have a fight?" she asked during the trip.
"I
think so."
She
was quiet for several minutes. I could tell she wanted to say something; she
just wasn't sure how to phrase it.
"If
you're not sure about him, if there is any doubt in your mind, please leave him
alone. I don't think he could handle another bad break up."
"What
happened to him after April?" I asked suddenly curious about the details.
I never asked Trent before. I assumed it was bad, but the tone in Jessica's
voice made me feel like it was something beyond bad.
"Trent
used to be the sweetest most fun-loving guy ever. April took all of that away.
He was like a different person after. He disappeared for two months. We didn't
hear from him for two whole months. We didn't know if he was dead or alive. It
was the scariest time in our lives. Turns out he had back packed through the
Andes Mountains. When he finally showed back up, he was this bitter, angry
monster. Two days ago, when he walked through the door with you, was the first
time we got a glimpse of the pre-April Trent. If you're not the one, if you
can't be what he needs, please just end it now."
"I'm
not sure if we ever really had anything. But if we did, I think I successfully
ended it last night."
"Is
that what you want?" she asked.
I
couldn't answer that. How could I give her an answer when I wasn't sure myself?
It was too much pressure.
"Can
I ask you something?" I said after a few minutes.
Jessica
shrugged.
"This
might sound odd, but I was just wondering how your family feels about the whole
race thing."
Jessica
looked confused. "What race thing?
Dog races?
Is
he gambling again? Oh Daddy is going to kill him."
"No,
he's not gambling, I don't think." Gambling? So he had a gambling
addiction as well? Huh? I shook my head and continued, "I was talking
about my race."
"Why
would that be a problem? You know April was black, right? Look, Trent
definitely has a type if you know what I mean. Let's just say his first crush
was
TBoz
from TLC."
I
had to hold in a smile as I imagined a young Trent drooling at the television
while grooving to "Waterfalls."
"Look,
Mahogany. I know I don't know you very well, but I can already see what he sees
in you. I just want my brother to be happy. Please don't let him run away from
it."
~~~
I
spent the weekend locked in my apartment thinking about
Vinny
and Trent. Funny how James with two ‘A’s never even entered the equation. I
called the Bishop house a few times, but Trent was never there. I could tell
his family was afraid he had pulled another disappearing act. After a little
investigation, I found out where he lived in DC and went to find him. He wasn't
there. And for someone who worked for a social media firm, he was extremely
difficult to find through, well, social media. He didn't have a Facebook
account, he wasn't on Twitter, and Googling his name only brought up some
thick-necked rugby player.
At
work, it was Trent's turn to take off for a few days. After I broke up with
Vinny
, I didn't come to work for almost a week. After our
disastrous Thanksgiving, Trent didn't show up for three days.
To
keep my mind off of him, I focused on my hair. Yes, I had become slightly
obsessed with my hair, but it was the only thing that helped my get through my
man troubles. Through countless YouTube video searches, I discovered a
technique called banding. It was a way to stretch the hair so that it looked
closer to its actual length. I always hated how my hair could be like six
inches long but only appear to be like two due to the curl pattern. This technique
which involved using multiple rubber bands along small sections of hair made so
much sense. After banding, my hair looked almost as long as it did after flat
ironing, but without using the heat. With the rubber bands in my hair, I looked
like a girl from an African art painting I had seen before. I wondered if this
was what my ancestors in Africa had done to their hair to make it longer and
more manageable. Maybe it was something that was lost during the centuries
black people were forced into slavery.
A tradition that
didn't survive the boat ride.
For centuries black people were forced to
make do using products and styles that weren't suited to their hair type.
~~~
Finally,
on the following Thursday, I came in early to find Trent seated at his desk.
"Hey,"
I said, approaching him.
"Hey,"
he said without taking his eyes off of the computer screen.
"I
was worried about you."
"Why?"
he said coldly.
"Because..." he was not
going to make this easy for me.”
Look, Trent, I know I messed up, but can you let me try to explain?"
I
took his lack of response as a cue to continue. "I'm not in love with
Vinny
anymore. I'm over him. I am. But I was with him for
seven years. He was the only man I had ever been attracted to, the only man I
had ever been ... intimate with. That was until you. Oddly enough, even after
everything he has put me through; I think I still feel guilty for what I feel
for you."
Trent
still didn't respond. He didn't even look at me. I dropped my stuff and spun
his chair around so that he was looking directly at me. "Do you understand
what I'm trying to tell you? Trent, I love you."
He
closed his eyes and turned away. After taking a deep breath he said, "I
think it's best if we just have a professional relationship."
I
wasn't letting him off that easy.
"Best for whom?
You?
Because you're too scared to give love a
chance."
"Damn
right I'm scared. I did the love thing once and it didn't work out too well,
did it? I almost fell for it again. I almost opened myself up to you just so it
could happen again."
"It
won't happen again. I'm not April!"
"And
I'm not
Vinny
!" He stood up forcing me to step
back.
We
started a staring match. Neither one of us wanted to be the first to back down.
"I've
got work to do," he said sitting.
I
knew there was something between us. I had a connection with Trent that I
hadn't ever had with anyone. But maybe it was the wrong timing. We were both
mending our wounds from our last relationships. It might be best to wait until
we worked out all of our personal issues before we tried a relationship. Of
course, after calling him
Vinny
in the heat of
passion, he might never, ever want a relationship with me.
I
sat down at my desk with a lump in my throat. I didn't want to cry. I didn't
want to run and hide in the bathroom and give in to tears. I didn't want him to
see me like that. He had already seen me at my worst. I wanted to save face and
show that I could be just as cold and uncaring as him sitting over at his desk
coding another website.
I
think at least two hours passed without either of us moving from our seats. It
was almost as if we were having our own secret little competition to see who
could be the most productive and show they were the least emotional.
Whisperings around the office, however, brought me out of my working trance. I
could instantly tell that something was going on. I looked up and realized what
it was.
Vinny
.
He was standing in the middle of the bean bag circle
wearing a tux and holding a dozen roses.
What
the hell? Why now?
I
stole a quick glance at Trent. Of course, he kept his eyes glued to his
computer screen and pretended he didn't see what was happening.
"
Vinny
? What are you doing here?"
"I'm
doing something I should have done a long time ago," he said taking out a
small box that could only possibly hold an engagement ring. The women in the
office gasped as if they were personally witnessing their own corny romantic
movie.
"
Vinny
,
please."
"No,
Mags
, listen. I love you and I want to be with you. These
past eight months have been absolutely miserable for me. If the only way I can
get you to come back is to marry you, then I want to marry you."
Wait.
Did he just say he wanted to marry me so that I would come back to him? Not
quite the proposal I was looking for. It was like he was offering to marry me
as a last resort. The only way he could get me back. This was no way to start a
marriage.
I
glanced over at Trent as he coughed into his fist. I knew he hadn't suddenly
gotten a tickle in his throat. He was giving his own personal commentary about
the way
Vinny
had just proposed.
"Are
you serious?" I asked
Vinny
.
"Yes,
I'm serious. I want to marry you." He took the gold band out of the box
and held it up for everyone to see as if he had to prove something.
I
pressed my eyes shut and rubbed my temples. He didn't have a clue that anything
was wrong with what he had just said.
"Let's
go talk about this," I said grabbing his hand and leading him into the
hallway.
"I
don't understand,"
Vinny
said once we were out
of the office. "Isn't this what you wanted? We can get married."
"
Vinny
, come on. This is not how I want it. I don't want you
traipsing into my place of work announcing to everyone that you're marrying me
as a last resort."
"That's
not what I said and you know it."
"You
said if it's the only way to get me back you'll marry me.
Not
exactly romantic."
Vinny
threw the flowers against the
wall. "I don't know what you want from me, Maggie. What the hell is going
on with you? Why can't you just be happy?"
"You're
right. I can be happy. But I can't be happy with you. Not anymore."
"So
that's it?" he asked.
"Yeah,
that's it." I turned to go back into my office, but he grabbed my arm.
"You're
insane, Maggie. Think about this. You're not going to get anyone else."
"And
what exactly is that supposed to mean?" He just went from proposing to me
to really pissing me off in about three seconds.
"What
I mean is that men aren't exactly beating down your door."
"Listen
to me
Vinyay
Gupta. I'm not sure what I ever saw in
you, but let me assure you, my vision has cleared. You are a selfish, petty,
and immature little boy and I want nothing to do with you."
Before
I could retreat into the office, Trent came out. "You heard her," he
said. "Just get out of here."
Vinny
looked back and forth between
the two of us. "So there
is
something between you two."
"That's
none of your business," I said.
"It
is
my business. You lied to me. What
did I do to deserve that?"
"You
treated her like she wasn't good enough for almost seven years," Trent
volunteered. "That's what you did."
"Stay
out of this,"
Vinny
said taking a swing at
Trent.
Trent
dodged left then landed an uppercut to
Vinny's
chin.
Vinny
fell backwards and slid against the wall to the
ground. He tried to stand but couldn't quite get his bearings. Meanwhile, Trent
calmly walked over to the elevator and pushed the button. When the doors
opened, he picked up
Vinny
and tossed him inside as
if he weighed no more than a bag of
SunChips
.
Then
without saying a word, he straightened his tie and calmly walked back into the
office.