Fight on the Shampoo Aisle

Fight on the Shampoo Aisle

“Shit.” I grab Troy’s hand and drag him down another aisle, all the way thinking, “This can’t be happening.” As we get to the end of the shampoo aisle and I wait to see if he comes this way, I hold my breath. I peek up at Troy from beneath my baseball cap, and he is looking at me like I’m crazy. Oh Lord, how do I explain this one? Just keep it short and sweet. “I saw Matt,” I say. His eyes are immediately lit by a spark that I recognize as rage, and I know what’s coming. Troy is one of my closest friends and a potential boyfriend that I’ve been dating for a few weeks now. That look is one that I’ve seen many times; it comes right before the brawl. “No, Troy, don’t do it. Not here, not tonight.” We are in the middle of Wal-Mart for Christ’s sake, and I know Matt would be no match for him. This is what he lives for, and he hates Matt for what he did to me.

 It seems like just yesterday that I was with Matt and I couldn’t have been happier. We spent every day we could together over the summer. With his work schedule and mine, we didn’t have a lot of free time, but every free moment was shared. Or so I had thought. All those days lying out in the sun, swimming for hours, driving 100 miles per hour down highway 67, were just memories now. Memories that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make fade. I only thought he was spending all his free time with me. I thought that the suspicious feeling that I had was only because he had broken my heart once before, when I was 17. I talked myself out of the conclusions I came to when I read his text messages. I tried to ignore the fact that he didn’t even show up until 9:30 that night, his explanation for being so late being “he was with Richard.” When he explained, I tried to blind myself to the fact that he didn’t smell like cigarette smoke, which was the norm when he was with Richard, who smoked two packs a day. He smelled fresh and clean. And I let it go. Stupid, stupid girl.

Now, here I stood, on the shampoo aisle of Wal-Mart in shorts, cowboy boots, and a baseball cap, trying to drag Troy in the opposite direction. He is much bigger than me and I am making no progress. His own boots simply move in Matt’s direction, pulling me effortlessly along with my boots skidding on the dirty tile floor. Damn this cowboy. He’s going to beat Matt senseless and get arrested. I’m going to have to bail him out of jail. Damn it. “Troy, please, let’s just get what we came for and go home.” He looks down at me, his black cowboy hat shading his bright blue eyes. “Dennie, this guy’s got it comin. I told you if I ever saw him, his ass had better run. Fast.” It’s hopeless. I know it, Troy knows it, and soon Matt’s going to know it. This is small town drama at its finest, with Wal-Mart as our stage.

I tug on Troy’s arm one last time, as if suddenly I’ll have super strength and can make him budge. Here it comes. I’ve been avoiding this for three months, but it’s finally here. I can’t believe it’s been over that long since he left me. It’s only been five weeks since I found out why. After all the time we spent together, everything we shared, and he cheats on me. With her, “Emily.” Ugh, such a nasty word. I gag a little just thinking it. If I ever see her with her dirty blonde hair and smug grin, Lord help me. I’ll slap all of that eyeliner right off of her face. I’m guessing that’s about how Troy feels about Matt right now. I let the tension fall from my arms, admitting defeat and giving Troy the okay to do what I know he’s going to do anyways.

He recognizes his success, and smiles as he puts his arm around my waist and plants a quick kiss on my lips. After the kiss I look up, and Matt is standing at the end of the aisle. Seeing him sickens me, and I can feel my stomach churning and my face turning red. Seeing him there, Troy kisses me again, attempting to rub salt in the wound he knows he’s just inflicted on Matt. Matt just stands there and stares, and I can see betrayal in his eyes. This is hurting him, I can see it, but I can’t understand it. He left me….

Before I can finish this thought, Troy is walking away from me. Matt attempts to walk casually past, but Troy put a large, callused hand in the middle of Matt’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. My eyes burn, and I fight the tears back. This is going to be ugly. “What the hell, man.” Matt says this with a brave face, but I know him well enough to know that his heart is racing. Troy stands at least four inches taller and is well known for picking a fight. “Don’t walk away from me, asshole.” Troy’s voice is almost a growl as he says it, and Matt’s green eyes burn with anger. All I can do is stand aside and watch the inevitable. Troy keeps his hand in Matt’s chest, and pushes him out in front of him. A moment later Matt takes a swing at Troy, who dodges it and comes back with a fist to Matt’s cheekbone. Matt staggers for just a moment before Troy hits him again, this time in the eye.

When Matt stumbles backward this time, I put myself between them and look up at Troy and say, “Enough.” He knows me well enough to know when I mean it, and he backs down. Matt is leaning against the shelves full of brightly colored shampoo bottles, hand over his soon-to-be-black left eye. I almost feel sorry for him as I walk away with Troy, his rough hand in mine. This sorrowful feeling disappears as I hear a voice call, “Matt? Maaatt?” You have got to be kidding me. Emily comes around the corner and stops directly in front of me. As she realizes who I am, I watch the color drain from her face and fear creep into her eyes. I look her up and down, and am disgusted. Wavy, dirty blonde hair, cheap blue dress, cheap red heels. She tried so hard to look cheap. I don’t know what he sees in her. She’s not even that pretty. I know I’m far prettier, but this doesn’t make me feel any better.

Suddenly she gets a look over my shoulder and sees Matt, the bruises already forming on his cheek, and her jaw drops. She raises a manicured hand to her open mouth and looks back at me, as if expecting that she’s next. I can feel Troy’s eyes on me, trying to judge what my response will be, but I can’t move. This is her, the reason for my misery, the girl who won. She nervously fidgets with the oversized beads around her neck, looking for an escape route. I decide that there has been enough fighting for one day and step around her, pulling a stunned Troy with me. She rushes to Matt’s side and takes a look at his face, saying, “Oh baby, that looks awful,” and making a fuss.

Hearing her call him baby is too much, and I pull away from Troy and walk towards her. With every step I think about summer nights and the roses he cut for me himself. I think about looking at potential houses and talking about marriage. I think about his green eyes, and how they pull me to him. She has her back to me and Matt’s eyes widen because he knows me well enough to know exactly what’s about to happen. I tap her on the shoulder and as she turns to face me, her face becomes even grayer than before. I feel adrenaline rushing through my veins as my hand forms a fist and makes contact with her nose. She screams in terror as Matt just stands there, dumbfounded. Before I walk away, I look at her sitting on the ground, blood running down her face. “Bitch.” It’s the only word she deserves to hear, and it’s the only one I give her. I walk quickly down the aisle, amazed that this whole time, throughout this whole ordeal, not one person has noticed the fight on the shampoo aisle.

As I reach Troy, he looks down smugly at me, saying with his eyes, “Yeah, and you tried to stop ME?” I just take his hand in mine and pull him with me towards the exit. We can shop at HEB. “Dee, you’re a badass.” I look up at the handsome young man as we make our retreat, and his blue eyes are full of excitement. I laugh now too, amazed at what we just did. “Yeah,” I say, “I know.”