laughing.
“What are you laughing at? Is it because I’m a loser and don’t have an active social life? Or that I spend my time reading books instead of getting drunk at parties?”
“Neither. I’m laughing because you just told me you have a 4.0 and because of that I can’t get you to go off topic, but you just went off topic. Completely off topic. But please don’t let me stop you. Keep going.” I lean back in the chair and rest my hands behind my head.
“Are you always this obnoxious?”
“Only around you.”
Her lips begin to form a thin line and if I keep it up I’ll be walking on thin ice. It’s tempting.
“I got the tattoo two years ago ,” I say.
“ Wait…how old are you?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.
“ Seventeen.”
“But, how?”
“I knew a guy , and he was just starting out. If you let him practice on you, he wouldn’t charge you. Lucky for me he was getting pretty damn good by the time I went to him. He did it in the basement of his house.” I chuckle as her eyes widen. “He used clean needles. I watched him take them out of the bag. He disinfected everything, and now he has his own shop.”
“Did it hurt?”
“No, Preppy. It didn’t hurt.” A little. It was more uncomfortable than anything else. “Kind of felt like something scratching at me. No big deal though.”
“I don’t think I could do it. My threshold for pain is low. I cry if I stub my toe.”
“Just as well because you wouldn’t be able to pull one off.”
“And why not?” Her eyes narrow. She folds her arms across her chest and I swear if she was standing she would stomp her foot.
I wasn’t expecting her to get so mad. I meant it in a good way. “Just because I’m not a badass like you doesn’t mean I couldn’t pull one off.”
I think of Wanda and her butterfly tattoo and try to picture Anna with something marking up her perfect skin.
“It’s not that you couldn’t pull it off, because actually you probably could, but why would you want to? You’re perfect the way you are.” I say the words before I have the chance to stop myself from letting her know what I truly think about her.
Her cheeks redden , and she tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear.
“Shouldn’t you be serving people?” This is my sad attempt at trying to do damage control. The line I was scared to walk, the line I knew I shouldn’t be walking, well, because of my comment , is now a tight rope.
“Oh, um, Barney has it under control.”
I’m assuming Barney is the one with the purple button-up shirt. He looks like a Barney.
“ Do you want to go somewhere else?”
Well that came out of left field.
“Can’t. I have to be somewhere.” It’s not like I’m lying, completely. I do have to try and get into the Y. It’s fucking cold out there, and I don’t want to get stuck sleeping outside.
“Oh. ” I hate the disappointed look in her eyes. I feel this overwhelming urge to make it go away.
“But I’ll be back here Wednesday ,” I say, and her face lights up.
“Me too.”
“Okay , I’ll see you then.” I take my plate and stand. “It’s a date.”
A nd when she smiles, I take that as my cue to leave.
Katie and I still aren’t talking. I haven’t seen her once at school. Technically, that just means she’s ditching, which for her is normal, but I’m looking at it as her way of avoiding me.
My mother, however, is very present this morning.
I c ome downstairs like I do every morning, not expecting to find my mother at the kitchen counter. Lately she’s been MIA, telling me she has a big show coming up. Whatever. Spare me the lame excuses. When I get downstairs and pour myself a bowl of cereal she starts with the questions.
“I noticed all the leaves in bags at the curb. What made you decide to rake?”
As if I would tell her the truth. Besides it took her almost a day and a half to notice. “I was bored. Katie was babysitting. It gave me something to do.”
“What are you laughing at? Is it because I’m a loser and don’t have an active social life? Or that I spend my time reading books instead of getting drunk at parties?”
“Neither. I’m laughing because you just told me you have a 4.0 and because of that I can’t get you to go off topic, but you just went off topic. Completely off topic. But please don’t let me stop you. Keep going.” I lean back in the chair and rest my hands behind my head.
“Are you always this obnoxious?”
“Only around you.”
Her lips begin to form a thin line and if I keep it up I’ll be walking on thin ice. It’s tempting.
“I got the tattoo two years ago ,” I say.
“ Wait…how old are you?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.
“ Seventeen.”
“But, how?”
“I knew a guy , and he was just starting out. If you let him practice on you, he wouldn’t charge you. Lucky for me he was getting pretty damn good by the time I went to him. He did it in the basement of his house.” I chuckle as her eyes widen. “He used clean needles. I watched him take them out of the bag. He disinfected everything, and now he has his own shop.”
“Did it hurt?”
“No, Preppy. It didn’t hurt.” A little. It was more uncomfortable than anything else. “Kind of felt like something scratching at me. No big deal though.”
“I don’t think I could do it. My threshold for pain is low. I cry if I stub my toe.”
“Just as well because you wouldn’t be able to pull one off.”
“And why not?” Her eyes narrow. She folds her arms across her chest and I swear if she was standing she would stomp her foot.
I wasn’t expecting her to get so mad. I meant it in a good way. “Just because I’m not a badass like you doesn’t mean I couldn’t pull one off.”
I think of Wanda and her butterfly tattoo and try to picture Anna with something marking up her perfect skin.
“It’s not that you couldn’t pull it off, because actually you probably could, but why would you want to? You’re perfect the way you are.” I say the words before I have the chance to stop myself from letting her know what I truly think about her.
Her cheeks redden , and she tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear.
“Shouldn’t you be serving people?” This is my sad attempt at trying to do damage control. The line I was scared to walk, the line I knew I shouldn’t be walking, well, because of my comment , is now a tight rope.
“Oh, um, Barney has it under control.”
I’m assuming Barney is the one with the purple button-up shirt. He looks like a Barney.
“ Do you want to go somewhere else?”
Well that came out of left field.
“Can’t. I have to be somewhere.” It’s not like I’m lying, completely. I do have to try and get into the Y. It’s fucking cold out there, and I don’t want to get stuck sleeping outside.
“Oh. ” I hate the disappointed look in her eyes. I feel this overwhelming urge to make it go away.
“But I’ll be back here Wednesday ,” I say, and her face lights up.
“Me too.”
“Okay , I’ll see you then.” I take my plate and stand. “It’s a date.”
A nd when she smiles, I take that as my cue to leave.
Katie and I still aren’t talking. I haven’t seen her once at school. Technically, that just means she’s ditching, which for her is normal, but I’m looking at it as her way of avoiding me.
My mother, however, is very present this morning.
I c ome downstairs like I do every morning, not expecting to find my mother at the kitchen counter. Lately she’s been MIA, telling me she has a big show coming up. Whatever. Spare me the lame excuses. When I get downstairs and pour myself a bowl of cereal she starts with the questions.
“I noticed all the leaves in bags at the curb. What made you decide to rake?”
As if I would tell her the truth. Besides it took her almost a day and a half to notice. “I was bored. Katie was babysitting. It gave me something to do.”
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