I Like it This Way by Armando94

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I hadn’t dated much in high school. Scratch that—I didn’t date at all. I had hoped college would be different. We were all a bunch of random teenagers thrown together, knew nothing about each other, other than that we were all trying to be adults. I selected a small liberal arts college a couple states over that while wasn’t large in its undergraduate class size was still renowned enough to hold its own "prestige". I wasn’t sure if I was going to pursue English, or History, or even both.

Me and my three roommates were all different majors from each other, one of them actually was an athlete, and the other pledged a frat in the spring. But we all got on enough to live with each other, and still had our own separate friend groups that we more regularly hung out with. Partying was also new to me, but it seemed that way for most kids. It was here, and around campus, that I spotted this one particular girl, Elena. She had long blonde hair that passed down her back, always worn down too. I never remember her putting it up. Long limbed and proud to show it in short shorts and short skirts. A few friends of mine knew of her through other people, but I didn’t make a move right away. Of course, most my friends told me I needed to lock her down fast, others were interested.

It happened one time in the cafeteria, an odd hour to be there to be exact. I didn’t have a morning class on Thursdays and so was catching an early lunch before I had afternoon classes. Elena was there and she was sitting up at the one bar, casually looking through her phone as a salad sat in front of her. I took my things and sat a few seats over with my sandwich. I started to eat but also took a book out that I’d been reading in my spare time. Instantly, she noticed this, and not even five minutes later, struck up a conversation with me. We talked books, and classes, then where we were from and everything.

Before I knew it, the cafeteria was starting to fill up, and I realized I needed to get going. Before I did, I stifled an awkward, "Would ya wanna grab coffee sometime?" Not having any smooth moves up my sleeve, I figured I’d just go for it. Shockingly, she said yes. We exchanged numbers, and before I entered my class a couple hours later, I saw a Facebook notification that she had friend requested me.

We ended up grabbing coffee the next afternoon. She had off on Fridays, and I was more than happy to squeeze this in before my afternoon class. I felt like we actually got on well, and that I wasn’t trying to be anyone else. When she said we should grab dinner tonight, I was more than happy to. There was a party happening too, and she said we should go to it. Elena said I could pick her up at her room first, which gave me instant goosebumps that wouldn’t settle down the rest of the day until I knocked on her door that night, then they doubled in population. I had on a clean pair of jeans and a polo, thinking that was alright, and was glad that she had on jeans as well and a light sweater on top. She allowed me into her room, she was finishing getting ready.

Elena had this great vanity set up that she was using to finish her makeup with. Then, and I almost fell over, she asked if I could help put on her necklace, which I carefully did like I was holding a baby. Then we both stared at each other in the mirror for a few moments, before she said, "You have really nice hair, you know?"

"Thanks…so do you," I managed to say. Her long platinum blonde hair was slightly different from my more golden waves that I now realized could have used a bit more combing, or maybe finally find a barber for a trim. Then, she did what I found unthinkable, and raised a hand towards my hair, and stroked it. I immediately started to feel warm all over the place and was nervous I’d start to sweat through my polo before we had dinner. But that was all she did, even in the elevator down she was casual. At dinner, we picked up talking where our coffee date had left off, and then at the party it was just a fun time, introducing each other to our respective friends.

Not until we headed back to her dorm, alone in the elevator, me still a bit tipsy bordering on drunk, that I felt her lean into me, and shove me against the wall. Her lips were fast on mine and luckily, I quickly reacted. I had no idea if I was doing it right, or even good, but I don’t think that mattered. Elena was so preoccupied with pawing through my hair. Her fingers and nails scratching the surface, I was nervous she was going to soon be digging into my skull. Then the elevator dung for her level, and we casually got off. I trailed behind her to her room, which she did not invite me to, and I thought that was fair. We both said how we had a great time, and that we’d see each other again that weekend.

Flash forward a few weeks, and Elena and I have been hanging out to the point that we are officially an "item" to everyone, but I finally seal the deal and ask her to be my girlfriend, which she more or less said "Finally" to rather than "Yes". Even a few weeks into that, as we approach midterms, things are going pretty well. I seem to be doing fine in class, still hanging out with friends, and definitely hanging out with Elena. We haven’t gone too far yet, but we’ve been having a lot of fun, at least, I think.

It was fall break, and not everyone went home because it was so short. The floors for freshman dorms were separated by genders. Saturday of fall break rolls around, and everyone is getting bored of studying. I’m in my room with my roommate when we hear a knock in the adjoining room of our other suitemates. They start talking to some other guys, and there’s a bunch of laughing and "Nuh-uh" and "BRO!" happening. All of a sudden, we have four other guys in our room.

One of the strangers, who I occasionally saw on the floor, asked, "Any of you fellas need a haircut?"

I turned around at the sight to see the announcer holding a pair of clippers in his hand, the wire dangling towards the floor. I knew I was in need of a trim, I’d let finding a barber fall to the bottom of my list of priorities. There had been a couple nearby to school that I had spotted, but didn’t have the guts to go in. I was shocked when all my roommates said they were game.

"Come on, Dale," my immediate roommate said. "If everyone’s doing it, it’ll be cool."

I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but I liked the idea of a bonding experience, and perhaps being seen as "cool". So I put down my studies and joined the rest of them. We came into the bathroom where it looked like the rest of the floor, and then some others, were all already gathered. Little did I know, this was a one cut kind of barber shop.

There were two other guys who had similar clippers and were standing by chairs that were clearly the ones pulled from the desk in their rooms. There was also a roll of garbage bags that I figured would be the capes everyone got. But instead, some of the guys began to line the floor with it. Then, we were all being encouraged to strip off our shirts. I wasn’t jacked, but I wasn’t chubby either, just self-conscious, but everyone was doing it so I sure as hell was gonna.

Then, the inaugural cuts began, and I realized what I’d walked into. Every guy was coming off the chair with a buzzcut, whether taken down with no guard, or some kind of attachment. I couldn’t remember the last time I had my hair short, I was starting to get a little nervous. But the sight of everyone doing it, the more guys sat and sheared, I started to feel more confident. When there was an opening with the kid who had come into our room, I seized my opportunity and stepped forward. My roommates cheered me on, and it got a few more hoots and hollers from the rest of the room. My "barber" asked me "4, 3, 2, 1, or surprise?" which I had learned the surprise meant nothing at all. Three had always been a lucky number, so I asked for that. With no direct mirror in front of me, I had to experience the thrill of it all like I was blind, except for the reactions of my roommates and others. The sensation across my scalp was surprisingly…relaxing, like I could get used to this. Of course, it was slightly deflating to see some of my golden locks float down to my lap, and others collecting on my bare shoulders. But I was already starting to like the feel of the clipper across my skull and was eager to touch the top when I could. The kid continued to buzz down my top till I swore he had it more than perfect, before moving on to the sides and then edging that and my neckline up. With a slap to the back of my neck, I was moved off the chair, vacating it for the next victim.

My roommates all agreed it didn’t look bad on me, so I took a look in the mirror, and they were right. I didn’t want to say I loved it, but I kinda did. I was tempted to take a selfie and send it to my family group message but figured maybe I’d surprise them on a facetime call. I kept sneaking glances into the mirror at myself, proud that I did this, joined the guys. Once every boy was buzzed, and the place was cleaned up, we looked like a new batch of army recruits. You would have thought we were the military academy during Plebe week. So, as one cohort, we all threw our shirts back on and headed to the cafeteria for dinner. I don’t think the students casually enjoying their dinner on what was meant to be a quiet Saturday night were anticipating a bunch of loud and rowdy freshman boys to come and crash it. It was obvious, to anyone, what had transpired in the dorm.

Some of my friends were there and were stunned to see me like this but laughed and said it wasn’t too bad a look. Then, reality sunk in when I heard a "Dale?" called out to me. I turned around and saw Elena there with some of her friends I’d gotten to know.

"Hey," I strutted over, a very gentlemanly peck on the cheek with a side hug. Then I rubbed my noggin, saying "So?"

"So…" she looked at me like I had a thousand heads.

"Oh shoot, does it look that bad? Has everyone been pulling my leg?"

"No, I mean—" Elena stopped herself, shaking her head, frustrated, "why did you do this?"

"Why? Oh, I mean, all the other guys were doing it."

"Would you jump off a bridge if all the other guys were doing it?"

"Well, no," I shook my head at the floor. "Come on, El, its just hair, it’ll grow back. And besides, it was sort of fun, doing it with all the other guys."

She gave me a sort of snooty look, saying, "Well, I’m glad you had fun tonight. Hopefully you were studying otherwise." I tried to placate her, but she clearly wasn’t having it, so when ten minutes later her and her friends said they had to go study, I let them go. I promised her we’d get dinner the next night. She agreed but I could tell she was still ticked. I quickly forgot all that when I rejoined the boys and some of my other friends who stuck around, pushing off studying for a bit longer.

Midterms came and went, and all seemed fine. My hair was starting to resemble that of a tennis ball when its been played with a few too many times. I contemplated asking one of the guys to cut it again. But lord help me, my girlfriend might have murdered me if I did so. One night, the weekend before Thanksgiving break, I finally turned to Elena as we were doing work in the library, and said, "Can I ask a semi-serious question?"

"You can ask a serious question too if you want," she sarcastically responded.

"Okay," I exaggerated the end of the word. "Do you really not like my hair buzzed? Its okay if you don’t."

She sighed, now I’d made her angry. "I just don’t know why you wanted to cut your hair so short, I liked your hair how it was."

"I told you," I whisper shouted, "that everybody else was doing it! And don’t pull that bridge crap again."

"But you have such nice hair, why do this?" she ripped my hoodie off my head.

I grumbled to myself, and she ignored me, but I figured I was resigned to let her win. The rest of the semester, I’d resisted the urge to cut my hair, even when I was home for Thanksgiving and later Christmas. When we all returned in the spring semester, my hair was starting to resemble a bit more of how I started that school year. Elena was thrilled, but I wasn’t so. However, I’d waited a while for a girlfriend, and she was one of the top picks in our class. Most the guys I’d let in on the secret that she was big on my hair not being short. One night, as we lay in her bed after watching a movie, she stroked her fingers through my hair. It was nice, but I would have loved it if she could have been stroking my former buzzed pelt.

"Will you grow your hair out, for me?" she pleaded.

I resisted the urge to sigh, "Okay, I can, I guess."

"Like, really grow it out, I mean," she eyed me up.

Now I eyed her up, a little more squarely, "Okay."

She played with my hair some more, saying how great it would look, if I let it get real long, like one of those roman statues. See how curly my hair might get. It sounded intriguing, but I was afraid my hair would get frizzy. As much as I subtly tried to push back, and tried bringing up the buzzcut again, she refuted. "I like it this way…"


I would spend the next two years with hair that reached to my shoulders. Only on occasion each semester was I "permitted" to have it trimmed and shaped up. Elena would do it, but typically I went to some chain chop shop to have them trim it some more, so it was presentable for interviews and presentations. Luckily, it gave me enough of a studious look, so it wasn’t all that bad. Of course, I’d still get lip for the next week or so about how I "went behind her back", only for Elena to cool off about it all when I landed some internship or work study. Although, that only lasted for a nanosecond, because then Elena would fall into a foul mood because she didn’t land anything as cool…or anything at all. I also learned throughout sophomore and junior year that being in the same major as your partner wasn’t so great. That, and when you personally are double majoring at that. And still handling things.

I like to think this was partly why, when it came around to junior year, Elena didn’t bring up if we wanted to move in with each other. I was going to suggest it, or say we could wait till senior year. But I aborted that when one day I was casually with her and her clique at lunch and they brought up the apartment they found. Luckily for me, I had several other friends and classmates who were looking for someone else to fill in a spot on an off-campus apartment with them. I fit in nicely, so I never brought it up to Elena. Her little tactic of vengeance was strange, but I let it slide, like I had a lot of things.

Namely, the damn hair.

Around the spring semester of junior year, when everyone was getting serious about finding summer internships, Elena was constantly making excuses of being too busy. I said how we could be busy together, but she would just scoff at me. I think she was still slightly pissed about a scholarship award I got from the History department. Possibly also because I heard one of her friends complaining about it at a party that my friends were hosting. One of Elena’s clique was in a corner, going off about "Its not even his main major! And he still gets awards. Elena works just as hard, if not harder, and she can’t even get anything out of the English department. Its always Dale this Dale that Dale everything for the English professors."

That sort of ticked me off, and so I began to let Elena and I have a "fizzle" effect to our relationship. We were still together, but not joined at the hip. I found it healthy, for me, and I hoped the best for her. With this strange dynamic in our relationship, I didn’t bring up the conversation of us moving in with each other. Our less frequent time together though made it hard for me to explain where I was at times since she wasn’t keeping tabs on me. She worked as a barista off campus at some very hipster-esque coffee bar. When she wasn’t doing that, I imagined she was studying, and applying to things. I, on the other hand, was studying and doing work study, but also at a lot of lectures and nighttime events with professors and others. Some of them being invite only. I started to make friends with people in my grade I hadn’t known all these years so far.

Summer was rolling around, and I had a few things lined up to keep me busy. It was only at dinner one night that I learned Elena was able to land a small co-op with the public library (thanks to my help from some people I’d met) that she could work alongside her barista job. There still was no comment about why we hadn’t moved in with each other. So, I let it slide. I was moving to a different building, my own studio in fact, within a week. I knew some people there, and had heard others were moving in, since it was a new building.

On move-in day, it was extremely hot, and it was still spring. I had a group of friends helping me, not that there was too much to worry about. The place came with a murphy bed so I was ready to go. But I had accumulated a lot of crap over college and couldn’t part with some of it, mostly books. As I was coming in and out of the front, a classmate of mine shouted, "Your moving in too, Dale?"

I turned around to see this one very pretty girl from my classes, Cressida. For as much as everyone had their eyes on Elena from day one, Cressida had another sort of beauty that had gone unnoticed until these later years. She was also one of the top students in the English department, and I know she had spent the last two summers between San Francisco and New York at different publishers for internships. It was rumored she had a fellowship somewhere this summer in Paris.

"Indeed!" I called back. "Yourself? I thought you were leaving us for little Paris?" I tried to do a poorly fake French accent.

She softly laughed, "I do, but an underclassman is subletting from me, and its actually Rome," she blushed, her hair color that was a little darker than mine and slightly less wavy, fell in front of her face. "But don’t worry, I’ll be back in the fall, to kick your butt with all the scholarships."

I liked that about Cressida, she was able to have a humor, unlike Elena. My friends and I continued to move things in and out, and even Cressida stopped to help out towards the end. "I’m just being nosy," she said, "I really want to see your library collection."

While my friends were helping put some things together, Cressida and I stood there in the small kitchen. She had a one bedroom, all to herself. I had heard she came from money. It was so easy talking to her, we never talked this much in class or at school related functions. One of my buddies called me over to help with something, which I excused myself to do. I was sweating like a pig, my hair all over the place. I wanted to tie it back but it always felt funny, even though Elena liked it because it made my hair seem even longer. Suddenly, Cressida parted my one side under my ear, revealing my face a bit more. "Now we can see those eyes of yours better."

I went red like never before, fumbled for words, "Yeah, I need a haircut I think."

"Your hairs cut, you mean," she teased, before brushing my cheeks with her lips, saying a soft "on se revoit bientot," and then floated out of the apartment like the angel she was.

That moment would haunt me, in a good way, for the next weeks as summer began to settle itself. I got into the groove of my work, and even Elena and I managed to set up a standing dinner date for each Tuesday. She couldn’t always be available on the weekends, if she was working a shift at the coffee bar, but we still managed to see each other even then, but not as frequently. I would pop in some Saturdays or Sundays, sort of to surprise her, but she wasn’t always working. When I asked when her shift was, I’d be told she wasn’t on that day. I found this odd, and when it kept happening, I stopped going. I spent more time with my other friends who were all around the area for the summer.

The summer was a true scorcher, and it was really getting to me. The Fourth of July was approaching, and some friends were making plans of a long weekend, but I wasn’t sure if I could join or not yet. I wanted to see what Elena wanted to do. She gave me the usual bull of "I might have a shift" which I was starting to read through. My professors and my internship told me I should go away, and I really wanted to. I hadn’t stopped thinking about Cressida and was looking at her Instagram posts day and night. She was in Rome, but also traveling a lot on weekends. She’d already been to Paris once, and her caption for the final post of that weekend was the same phrase she said to me. Something about that got me thinking, maybe because I knew Elena and I were very much at the end, but I tried to not let it overtake me. I had my work to do.

Anyways, the summer was already hot, I don’t think the body was meant to sweat this much. I had broached Fourth of July with Elena at dinner the week before one last time, but she said I could go on without her. "You have fun with your friends" but I sensed spite behind that.

"Well, I will," I felt like fighting back, so I did. "They actually want to spend time with me."

"What’s that supposed to mean," she got defensive. "What do you think we’re doing right now?"

"Really, Elena? Once a week at max? I know your busy, but come on." Well that wasn’t getting me an invite to her apartment that night, not that even without fights, I barely got an invitation these days. And when I had, I had to coax it out of her, and we did absolutely nothing other than fall asleep next to each other dripping in sweat, and not from being physical. The Fourth was coming up this weekend, so I just needed to look forward to my time at that.

I had taken a half day for Thursday so the gang could hit the road sooner, and then took Friday and Monday off as well. We were going to some lake area that was a decent drive away, but would be fun. I came back to my apartment from my internship and was getting my things together, still with ample time. This gave me a lot of time to reflect, and talk to myself out loud, something I loved doing in my own single apartment.

"Your gonna have a great time this weekend, bud. Some time to relax with the gang, not think about work, or school, or any of your troubles," I sighed with glee. "Would be nice if your ‘girlfriend’ could join." That was when I looked at myself in the mirror, and it all clicked. I was taken back to a distant memory of when there was no mirror involved until there was no turning back. And this moment, this precise moment, was one of no turning back too. With time still in my favor, and enough cash in my pocket, I headed out the door, in search of what I should have done long ago. Really long ago.

I’d spent the last couple years looking at barber shops in the area. REAL ones, not places I’d allow my extra trims to occur. Some of these barbers even took student discounts when you presented your school ID. But I didn’t even care about a discount at this point, I knew whatever I was about to do, I’d get my money’s worth. As I hurriedly paced along the blazing hot sidewalk, I looked in and out of some of the shops, until I found one that was not as occupied. One barber, likely in his late forties, up towards the front of the shop had no one in his chair. I saw this as my sign, and I dodged in, the bell chiming over the doorway to announce my entrance. No turning back for sure.

I must have had plenty of perspiration across my forehead, because the barber said to me, "Still a hot one out there?"

"No sign of cooling off anytime soon, sir," I laughed it off.

"Well, I can help you cool off if you need," he lightly teased, but then quickly shifted gears. "Not to put you off, young man, but you look like you’re in need. I can do simple cuts too if that’s preferred," he motioned for me to enter his empty throne, which I did within the matter of a few steps, just as swiftly as he caped me up.

"No, I…I probably do need that," I opened up. "Actually, that’s why I’m here. Not to be too much of an open book on you—"

"Please!" the barber interrupted, "its part of the job, enlighten me."

I let it all spill out. About the girl I’d been with since freshman year, how she was the reason for the long hair, how I should have put my foot down, but I wanted a girlfriend too. I even gave the background story of what happened first semester of college when I buzzed my head, how I liked it, but she didn’t. Then I found myself just talking about other problems Elena and I were having, had always had, really! Come to think of it, I knew exactly what I was doing here. It wasn’t just a haircut, I was kissing goodbye to that relationship too. The barber instantly was in tune with me, knowing I was looking for a change, a big one. He asked me other things too, about myself, what I was studying at school, what I was doing this summer, etc. I even slipped in how I was going away this weekend, how there’d be a lot of swimming and running around likely. He took all this into account, nodding his head.

Finally, the time had come, he snugged the cape a little tighter on me, before picking up a pair of clippers, cleaning them off what looked like an aerosol can for all I knew. We stared at each other in the mirror for a brief moment of silence, and he said, "You’re a bit of a war buff guy, from what I can tell. Ever see the movie Jarhead?"

I sure had, and I knew where this was going. I humbly bowed my head and said, "Say less."

With that, it was game on. The clippers were fired up, and he took a comb and started to section hair away, shearing across the comb so that the bulk of hair could be removed. Long tufts of hair fell down to the cape and floor like never before for me. I was immediately hooked, and the real part of the haircut hadn’t even begun. But it was glorious to watch these long locks meet their end as they fell down in mercy. I couldn’t help but slightly grin at myself in the mirror, thrilled about the makeover that was ensuing.

When that was done, the real business began. Without any clippers attached, the barber began to clear off the right side of my head till there was hardly stubble left. My super pale skin was what was left in its wake, having been covered all these years later. I was starting to feel good, feel better actually. But that only increased when he passed the clippers up the back of my head. I tell you, the moment he passed through the occipital bone, I nearly lost it. And I think the barber could tell! Boy I felt such a release at that exchange of the clippers. It felt even better when he continued to go over that area and the rest of the back, I could just sit there all day and let him do this for hours. Eventually he moved on to the left side and cleared that up. Now we were talking, the haircut was starting to take shape, except the mess on top. That was quickly taken are of with the #2 guard, little bit shorter than my frosh buzz. As the barber passed this set of clippers across the top of my hear, sheaves of hair flying this way and that, I found myself truly smiling now. I was reliving that glory from those years ago, what I should have allowed myself to do all these years later too. This was my own sort of vengeance, petty just like all of Elena’s.

"Enjoying ourselves?" the barber asked.

I laughed a bit, and that was a good enough response. We did carry on a nice conversation throughout, and I felt comfortable with him, thankful that I’d finally found my college barber, even if it took until almost senior year. When the top was a clean cut pelt, the same I’d been desiring for, I felt satisfied at the man looking back in the mirror. No one was going to recognize me, and perhaps some would hate it. But I didn’t care!

"We’re not done yet, son," the barber said. He took another pair of clippers and blended the top to the sides and back. And even after that, he took a different set that sounded like a beehive, and rotated that all along the sides and back. If what I felt before was ecstasy, I don’t know what kind of heaven this was. But I wished it would never end. The surprises didn’t stop there. I felt a warm towel around my head, first thinking just to clean off any stragglers left behind. Then, I was being lathered up. I knew where this was going, and I couldn’t wait. As the barber scraped so finely against the grain, then with the grain, so there was hardly anything left around halfway up the sides and back, his colleague made a jab about the haircut, in good spirit. I laughed along.

The barber took a handheld one to show me from behind. I let out a whistle that I didn’t know I could do and just mouthed a "Wow". Finally, I was released from the cape, still smiling back at the mirror before I could even find my feet. My hands grazed my sides, my bare sides, before climbing up to the top so I could feel that buzzed plush. I let out a little sigh, which I felt like was pushing it.

"Long time coming, huh?" the barber asked. I paid him with the student discount which only amounted to twelve bucks, so handsomely tipped him and said I’d be back for sure.

I knew what had to be done next. Come hell or high water, and I knew it would be both, this was the new me. I still had time to spare before going over to my buddy’s place. Elena didn’t live too far from campus, and I figured she might be home, Thursdays was meant to be her internship day, so she could be getting back soon. I figured I’d wait on the stoop and surprise her. As I approached, one of her roommates came from the other direction, and I shouted to them. Confused who I was, until I said it was me. Now she was stunned, seemed like she didn’t believe me. I asked if Elena was home yet from her internship, to which the friend looked even more confused now.

Now, I was pissed. Something about that stare wasn’t right. With the doorway slightly ajar, I passed by her coolly, even though this roommate called after me. When I was in the house, I started calling "Elena! Its me, you here?" but I was also making moves towards her room. When I was mere feet away, she hurriedly stepped into the doorway, trying to make her thin frame fill the space, acting suddenly casually. "No work today? Or did they let you off early?"

I knew she couldn’t tell who I was, and then it clicked. She shook her head, stuttered for speech, couldn’t even say anything coherent, except, "W-w-why?" flicking a glance behind her.

And so I said what I should have said years before. "I like it this way," grazing a hand across the top of my head. "Come on, just touch it. Please." Then I heard some commotion coming from her room, and suddenly standing behind her was a much taller guy, with dark hair that was nearly the length of Elena’s. I didn’t need to question whether he hastily put on a pair of shorts, because those were a pair I bought Elena a year before.

"Okay then," I nodded my head, and with my dignity, left the apartment in peace.

It turned out to be a great weekend with the gang. I broke the news right away. I think a part of them wanted to be happy I was finally done with Elena, but they were also pissed about what I’d found out she’d likely been up to. Quickly they got word out there, and word came back. That might not have been the only guy she was seeing, currently, and that didn’t include me. I was grateful we hadn’t done anything together in…months? A year? Yikes, how did I let this happen. Also, my friends found out she’d been fired from the internship, after two weeks. So, with all of that in mind, I put it on its own shelf, and allowed myself to enjoy the weekend. Even posting some pictures online, including my new look. I got some DMs about it, from other friends and old roommates. Some of the guys from freshman year, saying "He’s finally back!". And the rest of the summer went great, and I ended up making that my regular barber. I loved the feel of the smooth back and sides, and the short bristles on top. I wouldn’t go longer than two weeks if I could help it. Especially with my student discount!

I was walking back from a Saturday appointment, school starting the next week, when low and behold who should be returning to the apartment. "I sort of wish I had been surprised upon return with this new look," Cressida called to me. "You’ve been such a tease on social media, a bit of a social butterfly are we now?"

"It was a great summer, wish you could have been here," I said. "But I’m sure Europe was even better."

"Europe was great, I’d love to tell you about it," Cressida eyed me up, before saying, "May I?"

I bowed my head, and let her give it a rub, something I’d become used to from others. Then, she shocked me by saying this, "You know, I was there, in the cafeteria, that night freshman year over fall break. When all you boys arrived. I found it funny, and so typical. I have all older brothers, so I get it. But I spotted you, out of all of them."

I couldn’t contain my glee. "You have time for Europe tonight, perhaps?"

"I might, I’ll let you know," Cressida shrugged, tapping my head once again, "love this."

"Merci," I said, winking at her. Even if things had to wait till senior year to get good, it was worth the wait. I would tell younger me from high school that, to just be patient for the real deal. So worth it, as I continue to rub my short hair on top, these years later, in the apartment I share with my now long-standing girlfriend, and soon to be fiancé.

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