Jackie? Well, she was really nice. Maybe she could be a good sounding board.
“An email. To my mom. She’s kind of disappeared.”
Jackie snorted as she sank into her black plaid desk chair, swiveling it back and forth. “Wish my mom would disappear. That bitch steals my weed.”
I shook my head. This was definitely a bad idea.
Jackie stilled her swivel. “I didn’t hurt your feelings, did I? Oh God, I’m such a bitch.”
“No, no, it’s fine. You didn’t.” I sniffed. “It’s just . . . my life is kind of falling apart, and I don’t know what to do.” Shit, why wouldn’t these tears stop?
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m making stupid jokes.” Jackie flew across the room and started digging in her underwear drawer. “Here. I know you always say no, but seriously, it’ll help you feel better.” She started rolling a joint on the one clear corner atop her dresser.
“No, Jackie, thanks. I tried it once, and I didn’t like it. Besides, it’s not going to bring my mom back.” I stood. “Thanks for listening, but I’ve got to get to class.”
“You sure?” Jackie had already stuck the homemade cigarette into her mouth. “’Cuz there’s plenty. We can share.”
I gave as genuine a smile as I was capable of. “I’m good. Thanks.”
I ducked into the bathroom and scrubbed my cheeks before leaving. The whole world didn’t need to know that I was a head case at the moment. That could wait.
Fortunately, my last class of the day was in the art building. I lost myself in the lesson, using photo manipulation software to create 3-D images. It was easy to forget my problems in the whirl of color and texture, to pour my feelings into a visual representation that was far from my insides.
So when I got on the bus that headed downtown, I was feeling much calmer. Centered, even. Still fragile, but ready to face another evening at work. With any luck, Tasha would be back, and I could learn a bit more before I had to handle it all on my own.
With any luck at all.
Chapter Eight
Hailey
When I entered through the back door, I was greeted with bright lights, milling customers, and faint strains of music from the artists’ studios. I smiled politely as I passed a couple of guys who were lounging on the couch, obviously waiting their turn for ink or piercing. Frankie stood at the counter, looking rumpled and stressed.
“Hey, sugar,” he drawled. “It’s good to see you again. Tasha’s still sick.”
The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I sagged against the wall behind me. “Oh. That’s too bad.”
“Yup.” Frankie grabbed his iPad. “You got it, or do I need to stick around?”
I shifted my weight from foot to foot. On one hand, I’d love some experienced help. On the other, the shop was really busy, and Frankie might be able to help out elsewhere. Besides, I hadn’t fully recovered from seeing a little too much of Frankie the day before. Embarrassment won out. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”
Frankie disappeared, and I bent down to tuck my bag into the cubby. With a deep, calming breath, I straightened and closed my eyes, picturing the project I’d been working on this afternoon.
Dark, textured stone rose up from a bleak landscape. Fire leaped from the base, almost like the mountain was springing up from hell itself. But at the peak, a lone sapling stood tall, its vibrant green leaves shining like emeralds.
That was me, and I was strong. I could do this.
“Hey, you awake? I want to get my nipples pierced.”
I jumped at the woman’s gruff tone. I hadn’t heard the electronic beep signaling that the door was open, but there was a customer standing right in front of me. “Oh, sure. Sorry. I need to get your driver’s license, and this form needs to be filled out.”
With my confidence more than shaky, I rushed around, trying to get things done. Keeping this job might not have been my best decision.
Neill
When I had called Tasha that afternoon, she’d sounded like
“An email. To my mom. She’s kind of disappeared.”
Jackie snorted as she sank into her black plaid desk chair, swiveling it back and forth. “Wish my mom would disappear. That bitch steals my weed.”
I shook my head. This was definitely a bad idea.
Jackie stilled her swivel. “I didn’t hurt your feelings, did I? Oh God, I’m such a bitch.”
“No, no, it’s fine. You didn’t.” I sniffed. “It’s just . . . my life is kind of falling apart, and I don’t know what to do.” Shit, why wouldn’t these tears stop?
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m making stupid jokes.” Jackie flew across the room and started digging in her underwear drawer. “Here. I know you always say no, but seriously, it’ll help you feel better.” She started rolling a joint on the one clear corner atop her dresser.
“No, Jackie, thanks. I tried it once, and I didn’t like it. Besides, it’s not going to bring my mom back.” I stood. “Thanks for listening, but I’ve got to get to class.”
“You sure?” Jackie had already stuck the homemade cigarette into her mouth. “’Cuz there’s plenty. We can share.”
I gave as genuine a smile as I was capable of. “I’m good. Thanks.”
I ducked into the bathroom and scrubbed my cheeks before leaving. The whole world didn’t need to know that I was a head case at the moment. That could wait.
Fortunately, my last class of the day was in the art building. I lost myself in the lesson, using photo manipulation software to create 3-D images. It was easy to forget my problems in the whirl of color and texture, to pour my feelings into a visual representation that was far from my insides.
So when I got on the bus that headed downtown, I was feeling much calmer. Centered, even. Still fragile, but ready to face another evening at work. With any luck, Tasha would be back, and I could learn a bit more before I had to handle it all on my own.
With any luck at all.
Chapter Eight
Hailey
When I entered through the back door, I was greeted with bright lights, milling customers, and faint strains of music from the artists’ studios. I smiled politely as I passed a couple of guys who were lounging on the couch, obviously waiting their turn for ink or piercing. Frankie stood at the counter, looking rumpled and stressed.
“Hey, sugar,” he drawled. “It’s good to see you again. Tasha’s still sick.”
The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I sagged against the wall behind me. “Oh. That’s too bad.”
“Yup.” Frankie grabbed his iPad. “You got it, or do I need to stick around?”
I shifted my weight from foot to foot. On one hand, I’d love some experienced help. On the other, the shop was really busy, and Frankie might be able to help out elsewhere. Besides, I hadn’t fully recovered from seeing a little too much of Frankie the day before. Embarrassment won out. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”
Frankie disappeared, and I bent down to tuck my bag into the cubby. With a deep, calming breath, I straightened and closed my eyes, picturing the project I’d been working on this afternoon.
Dark, textured stone rose up from a bleak landscape. Fire leaped from the base, almost like the mountain was springing up from hell itself. But at the peak, a lone sapling stood tall, its vibrant green leaves shining like emeralds.
That was me, and I was strong. I could do this.
“Hey, you awake? I want to get my nipples pierced.”
I jumped at the woman’s gruff tone. I hadn’t heard the electronic beep signaling that the door was open, but there was a customer standing right in front of me. “Oh, sure. Sorry. I need to get your driver’s license, and this form needs to be filled out.”
With my confidence more than shaky, I rushed around, trying to get things done. Keeping this job might not have been my best decision.
Neill
When I had called Tasha that afternoon, she’d sounded like
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