The Fault in my Fro

Chapter Three

I get home from Hazel's house around 11. In the middle of de-greasing my afro, I get a call.

"Hazel Grease."

"Hey, Afrogustus."

She sounded off.

"Is everything alright?"

"No, not really. I just wanted to apologize for what happened. You know. Tonight."

I laughed.

"Tonight ... Tonight was great."

"Really? I thought I was being a little too forward."

"No, not at all, Hazel. It was the most fun I've had since forever."

"Oh."

I can practically hear her blushing over the phone.

"Hazel Grease," I said.

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm in love with you."

"Me too."

"Frokay." I smiled.

"Frokay."

The line went silent.

That night, I fell asleep smiling.

The next morning I get up, style my afro, get dressed and head to Afro Support Group. There, I am greeted warmly by Isaac and Hazel. I sit next to Hazel, and across from afro-less Isaac. I nonchalantly grab and squeeze Hazel's hand. She looks at me, her eyes filling with tears.

After the support group gathering ended, Hazel tells me that she's going to the bathroom. I stand outside the barber shop with Isaac.

After half an hour of waiting for Hazel, Isaac decides to go home. I feel a vibrating in my pocket. A text from Hazel.

Meet me in the park near my house in 5 minutes.

5 minutes. I have to hurry. I adjust my afro and run to the park.

I see Hazel sitting on the teeter-totter, blubbering into her yellow sleeve. I walk up to her and frown.

"Hazel ... What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Clearly you're not."

"Ohh Afrogustus," She wails. "It's horrible."

"What? What's horrible ... Hazel, whatever it is, we can get through it."

"Would you still love me, even without my afro?" She pleaded with red soggy eyes. The grease gone from her shrivelled afro. "Even if I could never get another one?"

Of course I'll still love you, because it's not about the afro. Right? Wrong. It is about the afro. I don't know how I could look at her, knowing that I'll never be able to caress her afro. Ever again.

I look at Hazel Grease Lafrocaster. The girl I love. I try to imagine her afro-less. The thought renders me speechless. I run off into the nearby KFC. The smell of chicken grease clears my head.