“Aunt Tanya” I called out before I walked around the half wall.
Silence.
“Uncle Corey?” I paused before proceeding toward the cracked open door.
Knock. Knock.
“Come in,” Uncle Corey said.
My pulse slowed. Uncle Corey helped things get done. “Hi, Uncle Corey. Where is Aunt Tanya? She messaged me.”
“I’m here.” Aunt Tanya gave me what looked like the tiniest of smiles or let out some gas. I’m still not sure.
I placed my backpack on the floor next to the chair next to Uncle Corey. I scoot over a bit, nervous about disturbing her YouTube video recording setup. She ran two for one Saturday specials for three months to purchase the equipment at the beginning of the natural hair YouTuber craze. She and one other licensed stylist started doing tutorials and product reviews before other stylists.
“Let’s get down to business. I have some more product to whip up for the first order for the Black Owned Beauty Shop Alliance trade show and an event in Savannah.” Aunt Tanya turned to face the computer.
I swallowed my comment on how cold she’d been towards me. Aunt Tanya kept grudges like old church ladies stored butterscotch. “I think once a month until I know what to do with my hair is good. Social media is not my thing.”
“No, maybe switch up which platform you do. One week Instagram takeover, another week you can do a Vlog for the YouTube channel. Then over to SnapChat or TikTok and then a recap of everything with insights and replies to what people comment on the blog, then you start all over.” Uncle Corey counted a finger for each platform.
“Oh,” I took a deep breath. This sounded like a lot more work than I anticipated. “Won’t people get tired of hearing me say the same thing?”
Uncle Corey played with his smartphone. “No, the same people aren’t on all of those platforms. You have a different group of people on SnapChat and Instagram. YouTube is where most of her people look for more in-depth information and tutorials, but they’re not following her on Insta or Snap. Blog readers are her ride and curls. They’re not a group. They’re the backbone of the entire online community. Most people aren’t familiar with social media like you or your peers. A lot of Tanya’s audience didn’t grow up with it. They pick their favorite and stick with it because of what they like. Give them the information based on how your Aunt breaks down who is where.”
“She will?” I cleared my throat.
Uncle Corey chuckled. “Who do you think taught me all of this? She is a beast.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
Uncle Corey tapped my knee. “Well, now you know.”
“So we start on Insta?” My forehead scrunched together as I tried to imagine talking to these people about my personal problems. Felt weird.
“No, start on her website. You can write something up. I’ll take some photos of you while you’re getting your first style for the takeovers done by Brielle, or Breyonna can if I’m at work, since she still does your hair on Saturdays.”
I exhaled and allowed my shoulders to relax. The thought of writing down what happened and what we’d do next felt a lot less official. Less intense. All teenagers didn’t want to be plastered all over the internet. Don’t mention me unless there is a scholarship or volleyball trophy somewhere around.
“You’ll both be fine. I’ll be around. So start with writing up how you ended up posting that comment on Instagram. Her bloggers and newsletter followers may not even know what happened.” Uncle Corey strummed his fingers on each other.
Aunt Tanya’s shoulder’s tightened as she typed.
“That’s an awful lot of hair talk. I mean, I don’t know if I care about changing my hair enough to talk about it once a week online.” I flicked my fingernails against each other to make the clicking sound that helped me think.
Aunt Tanya shifted around in her seat. She hated when I clicked my nails.
“You get new hairstyles every week and you and Brielle are discussing all of your options for when you go to school.” Uncle Corey said.
I nodded.
“The takeover isn’t you posting on the platform all day. Just you saying what you think and feel without me editing it or censoring your comments.” Aunt Tanya typed something on the computer. “You’re better at expressing yourself than you think.”
Embarrassment caused my neck and face to turn red. I had no idea how to apologize when she refused to even look at me for more than ten seconds. “When you put it like that, I’m sure I’ll think of something. This gives me a chance to work on my composition. It can help me decide if I want to send a video or a paper essay with my college applications. Good looking out, Uncle Corey.”
Uncle Corey smiled. “You two can take credit for this. I’m here to referee and help steer us all back to fun family movie nights on the second floor patio. We’re making the best from an awkward, unplanned situation. Not launching a new brand promotion campaign.”
“Still, I appreciate you for helping and for forgiving me.” Two caregivers speaking to me might be nice. However, one understanding adult is all a girl like me needs. “Who knows, I may be telling girls who love sports the way I do the best place to get bundles and bags.”
Aunt Tanya dropped her head and tried to hide her smile. I heard her mumble. “This little girl.”
I hadn’t made her smile in weeks. I’ll ask Breyonna’s mom to help me pick out a homecoming dress if she’s still cool on me in a few weeks. If I try real hard, she might thaw in time for Thanksgiving or Christmas. She’d have to come around by the
