settles over me as I sit in shocked silence. The bumpy bus ride lulls me into a place of comfort. Maybe I should have asked Charlie to come with me, I think, but know deep down this is something I have to do on my own.
After twenty minutes, the bus pulls into the parking lot of the Bridgewood Mall and I get off, sleepy and strangely calm. I pretend Gran’s with me and even speak out loud as if she’s at my side. A few sidelong glances are thrown my way by passers-by, but it doesn’t matter. The sense of Gran’s presence gives me strength.
Up ahead, the silver and navy U-Nique Tattoos and Piercings sign looms. Before today, I would have been nervous to go in, but right now, in this very moment, I’m more than ready.
I’m greeted by a skinny blond man with pin straight shoulder-length hair only a woman should be allowed to have. He’s wearing a white wife-beater, no doubt to show off his two full sleeves of tattoos. He’s a younger version of Brett Michaels. But instead of a bandana, he’s wearing a black leather cowboy hat.
“ I know I should have an appointment,” I say, “but this is kind of an emergency.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.” He’s tall and blue-eyed and really cute.
“ I need a tattoo. Can you do it?”
“ Of course. It’s perfect timing. Nobody’s here.” He makes a sweeping gesture around the room. “First, I’m gonna need picture ID. You have to be eighteen or have written parental consent if you’re under the age of majority.” He speaks as if he’s memorized a script.
I throw my shoulders back and hold my head high as I reach into my purse. “My grandmother is treating me to a tattoo for my eighteenth birthday. I want a very small two-color one on my wrist. I’m sorry I don’t have ID on me, but I do have this.” I hold out the wad of bills Gran gave me just days ago.
He eyes the money greedily.
“ There’s two hundred and fifty dollars here. I wouldn’t think a tattoo the size I want would cost more than a hundred.”
His blue eyes dart from side-to-side. He snatches the bills and quickly pockets them. “Okay, come on. But if your parents get mad and come down here, I’m denying everything. Got that?” He looks concerned, but his voice is grinning.
“ My parents are probably your best customers,” I say matter-of-factly.
A smile sweeps across his face. “Is that right? Well then, I guess they won’t mind that you’re following the family tradition.” He ushers me to the back of the store.
The walls are lined with picture after picture of scary looking people with tattoos and piercings. Charlie would be more comfortable here than I am. There are no other customers but there is a burly dude reading what looks like a magazine on tattoos.
“ That’s Billy, he’s my business partner.”
Billy doesn’t look up, only offers a grunt as we pass.
“ Name’s Ben, by the way.”
“ Lola.”
“ Pleasure to meet you, Lola. Sounds like you’ve got a pretty liberal family.”
I smile and nod. You don’t know the half of it .
“ On your wrist you say?”
“ Yes, very small on the inside of my left wrist. About this big.” I hold up my forefinger and thumb an inch apart.
“ No prob. A tatt that size won’t take long at all.”
We enter a small room and Ben closes the door behind us. There’s a cushioned table in the center, like you’d find in a doctor’s office. One wall is painted bright red and the others are yellow. Black lacquered shelves hold various knick-knacks, many of which are figurines of skulls of various shapes and sizes.
“ Hop on.” Ben pats the table.
I slide my butt onto it, swing my legs up and lie back.
He’s holding a photo album. “Do you already know what you want or do you wanna look at our tattoo gallery?”
“ I know exactly what I want.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Thankfully, I’m home before the rest of my family and have time to change into a long
After twenty minutes, the bus pulls into the parking lot of the Bridgewood Mall and I get off, sleepy and strangely calm. I pretend Gran’s with me and even speak out loud as if she’s at my side. A few sidelong glances are thrown my way by passers-by, but it doesn’t matter. The sense of Gran’s presence gives me strength.
Up ahead, the silver and navy U-Nique Tattoos and Piercings sign looms. Before today, I would have been nervous to go in, but right now, in this very moment, I’m more than ready.
I’m greeted by a skinny blond man with pin straight shoulder-length hair only a woman should be allowed to have. He’s wearing a white wife-beater, no doubt to show off his two full sleeves of tattoos. He’s a younger version of Brett Michaels. But instead of a bandana, he’s wearing a black leather cowboy hat.
“ I know I should have an appointment,” I say, “but this is kind of an emergency.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.” He’s tall and blue-eyed and really cute.
“ I need a tattoo. Can you do it?”
“ Of course. It’s perfect timing. Nobody’s here.” He makes a sweeping gesture around the room. “First, I’m gonna need picture ID. You have to be eighteen or have written parental consent if you’re under the age of majority.” He speaks as if he’s memorized a script.
I throw my shoulders back and hold my head high as I reach into my purse. “My grandmother is treating me to a tattoo for my eighteenth birthday. I want a very small two-color one on my wrist. I’m sorry I don’t have ID on me, but I do have this.” I hold out the wad of bills Gran gave me just days ago.
He eyes the money greedily.
“ There’s two hundred and fifty dollars here. I wouldn’t think a tattoo the size I want would cost more than a hundred.”
His blue eyes dart from side-to-side. He snatches the bills and quickly pockets them. “Okay, come on. But if your parents get mad and come down here, I’m denying everything. Got that?” He looks concerned, but his voice is grinning.
“ My parents are probably your best customers,” I say matter-of-factly.
A smile sweeps across his face. “Is that right? Well then, I guess they won’t mind that you’re following the family tradition.” He ushers me to the back of the store.
The walls are lined with picture after picture of scary looking people with tattoos and piercings. Charlie would be more comfortable here than I am. There are no other customers but there is a burly dude reading what looks like a magazine on tattoos.
“ That’s Billy, he’s my business partner.”
Billy doesn’t look up, only offers a grunt as we pass.
“ Name’s Ben, by the way.”
“ Lola.”
“ Pleasure to meet you, Lola. Sounds like you’ve got a pretty liberal family.”
I smile and nod. You don’t know the half of it .
“ On your wrist you say?”
“ Yes, very small on the inside of my left wrist. About this big.” I hold up my forefinger and thumb an inch apart.
“ No prob. A tatt that size won’t take long at all.”
We enter a small room and Ben closes the door behind us. There’s a cushioned table in the center, like you’d find in a doctor’s office. One wall is painted bright red and the others are yellow. Black lacquered shelves hold various knick-knacks, many of which are figurines of skulls of various shapes and sizes.
“ Hop on.” Ben pats the table.
I slide my butt onto it, swing my legs up and lie back.
He’s holding a photo album. “Do you already know what you want or do you wanna look at our tattoo gallery?”
“ I know exactly what I want.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Thankfully, I’m home before the rest of my family and have time to change into a long
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