Page 10 of Continuum

“It can’t be,” I mumbled to myself as I inspected the crowd for the Black woman with the fresh silk press and two thick blue streaks in the front of her hair.

Pulling out my cell phone, I immediately scrolled to the group chat with my girls.

Aisha Young:I know this is going to sound crazy, but I swear I just saw Angel.

I craned my neck as I waited for one of them to text me back. I didn’t see anyone who even slightly resembled her, but I knew she was in there. She had just walked in not even two minutes before me.

Tara Campbell:There’s no way you saw Angel, Aisha.

Aisha Young:I mean, I know it’s not Angel, but who else do you know that wears her hair bone straight with blue streaks framing her face?

Italy Johnson:I’m sure a lot of people have her look. Lots of people are wearing blue hair nowadays.

Tara Campbell:And I know with tomorrow being the anniversary, she’s on your mind. But don’t drive yourself crazy thinking every curvy girl with blue streaks is Angel.

Aisha Young:I followed her into Lucky’s and when I find her, I’m sending a picture. This isn’t a resemblance; this is an exact replica.

They weren’t going to believe me until I had picture proof, so I stopped focusing on the text messages and continued looking for Angel—well, Angel’s lookalike. I did three laps around the bar. Just when I was about to give up, I spotted her heading to the restroom area.

“Angel!” I yelped, excited to have finally found her.

I hauled ass through the crowd, bumping into strangers along the way. Between the pounding music and my pounding heart, my ears were ringing. I ran into the bathroom, startling the woman on her way out.

“Excuse me,” I yelped, shifting out of her way to let her through the door.

“I’ve been there,” she laughed, tossing her sisterlocs over her shoulder.

I barely registered what she’d said as I hurried into the dimly lit bathroom.

“Angel?” I called out, eyeing the only occupied stall.

I peeked into the empty ones to be sure and then I stood by the sink and waited. Staring into the mirror, my eyes were glued to the bathroom door. When I heard the toilet flush, I pulled out my lipstick. I didn’t realize how anxious I was until my shaky hand almost messed up my attempt to reapply.

I held my breath as the door opened—and froze as a blonde hair, blue eyed white woman exited.

“Hey,” she said slowly as I stared at her in disbelief.

“Uh, hey…” I glanced in the stall she just walked out of and then back at her. “I thought my friend was in there.”

She frowned. “Nope, just me.” She looked around. “There were a couple of girls in here when I came in.”

A group of women burst through the door, loudly laughing and clearly enjoying themselves. They stole my attention away for a moment and as I was going to ask the blonde another question, I realized she was heading out the door.

Ew.My eyes widened.That chick did not wash her hands.

With a shake of my head, I grabbed a paper towel to open the door and leave the bathroom.

“Where is she?” I mumbled to myself as I stepped back into the lively setting of the active bar scene.

I was about to do another lap when I caught a glimpse of Angel at the bar. Gasping, I almost broke out into a run.

“Where are you in a rush to, beautiful?” a man asked, grabbing my arm.

Snatching myself from his grasp, I curled my lip in disgust. “Don’t touch me.”

I propelled myself forward and made it to the bar, but Angel was gone.

Closing my eyes, my head fell back in exasperation. “What the fuck?”

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