JENNIE
When I wake up, Lisa is sprawled across the bed, one arm covering her face and the other hanging over the edge of the mattress. Her T-shirt is soaked in sweat, and I feel disgusting. With a quick kiss to her cheek, I hurry to the bathroom.
When I return from my shower, Lisa's awake, like she's been waiting for me. She leans up on her elbow. "I'm afraid to be expelled," she says. Her voice startles me, but her confession startles me even more.
I sit next to her on the bed, and she doesn't even try to tear the towel from around my body. "You are?"
"Yeah. I know it's stupid . . ." she begins.
"No, it's not stupid. Anyone would be afraid, I know I would be. It's okay to be afraid."
"What will I do if I can't go to WCU anymore?" "Go to another college."
"I want to go back home," she says, and my heart sinks. "Please don't," I say quietly.
"I have to, Jen. I can't afford university if my dad isn't the chancellor." "We could find a way."
"No, this isn't your problem."
"Yes, it is. If you go to Thailand, we'll never see each other."
"You have to come, Jennie. I know you don't want to, but you have to. I can't be away from you again. Please just come." Her words are so full of emotion that I can't seem to find mine.
"Lisa, it's not that easy."
"Yes, it is. It's easy—you could get a job doing exactly what you're doing now and possibly make even more money and go to an even better university."
"Lisa . . ." I focus my eyes back on her bare skin. She sighs. "You don't have to decide right now."
I almost tell her that I'll pack my bags and go to Thailand with her, but I can't.
For now, I'll stay the coward that I am and push the news of Seattle back another day while I roll onto my side and she gathers me in her arms.
For once, she's gotten me to crawl back into bed with her in the morning. Comforting her is more of a priority than my routine.
"THE OWNER, DREW, seems like a dick, but he's pretty cool," Lisa informs me as we approach the small brick building.
A bell sounds above my head when Lisa opens the door for me and we walk inside. Wendy and Bambam are already there. Wendy is seated on a leather chair, and Bambam is looking through what appears to be . . . a book of tattoos?
"Took you long enough!" Wendy kicks her leg out as Lisa and I walk by and she grabs her boot in her hand before it touches me.
"Already being annoying, I see . . ." Lisa rolls her eyes and attempts to lead me over to Bambam, but I pull my hand from her and stand near Wendy.
"She's fine with me," Wendy tells Lisa, and Lisa scowls at her but doesn't say anything in return.
Lisa stands next to Bambam about twenty feet away, grabs a black book like the one Bambam has in his hands, and flips through the pages.
"I haven't seen you in here before." The guy looks up at me while he wipes the surface of Wendy's bare stomach with a towel.
"I've never been here before," I reply. "Name's Drew. I own the place." "Nice to meet you. I'm Jennie."
"Are you getting any work done today?" He smiles.
"No, she's not." Lisa answers for me, wrapping her arm around my waist.
"She's with you, Manoban?"
"Yes, she is." Lisa pulls me closer. She's obviously doing this for show. She said that Drew seems like an asshole, but I don't get that vibe from him at all. He seems really nice.
"Cool. Cool. About time you got a girlfriend." Drew laughs. Lisa relaxes a little but keeps her arm around me. "So why don't you get something done, hombre?"
A buzzing noise fills the space, and I look down at Wendy's stomach to watch in amazement as the tattoo gun drags slowly across her skin. Drew wipes the excess ink off with a towel and continues.
"I might, actually," Lisa tells him.
I look up at Lisa, and her eyes meet mine. "Really? What do you want to get?" I ask her.
"I don't know yet, something on my back." Lisa's back is virtually the only part of her body that is completely ink-free.
"Really?"
"Yeah." Shw rests her chin on top of my hair.
"Speaking of getting work done, where the fuck are your rings?" Drew asks, dipping the gun into a small plastic cup full of black ink.
"I'm over them." Lisa shrugs.
"If he messes this up because you won't stop talking to him, you're paying for the whole thing." Wendy looks at Lisa, and I laugh.
"I'm not going to pay for that shit," Lisa and Drew say in unison.
Bambam finally joins us and pulls a chair over to sit by Wendy; he takes her hand in his. I look over at the small and freshly inked cluster of birds drawn into Wendy's skin. It's sort of lovely, actually, the placement of them. Drew gives her a mirror so she can get a better look.
"I love it!" She smiles, handing the mirror back to Drew before sitting up.
"What are you going to get, Lisa?" I ask her quietly. "Your name." She smiles.
Shocked, I step back from her with my jaw on the floor. "You wouldn't want that?" she asks.
"No! Gosh no, that's . . . I don't know, that's insane," I whisper.
"Insane? Not really, it's just showing you that I'm committed to you and don't need a ring or marriage proposal to stay that way."
Her voice is so clear that I'm no longer sure if she's joking. How did we go from joking to commitments and marriage in less than three minutes? This is how it always is with us, so I suppose I should be used to it by now.
"Ready, Lisa?"
"Sure." Lisa steps away from me and pulls her shirt over her head. "A quote?" Drew speaks my exact thoughts.
"I just want it across the top of my back; it's 'I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.' Just make it like an inch in height, do it in your cool freehand," Lisa instructs and turns her back to face Drew.
I never wish to be parted from you from this day on . . .
"Lisa, can we talk about this for a second, please?" I ask her.
I swear she knows about my plans to go to Seattle and she's taunting me by getting this tattoo. The line she chose is perfect but cruelly ironic, considering I've been withholding telling her about my move to Seattle.
"No, Jen, I want to do it," she says, dismissing me. "Lisa, I really don't think—"
"It's not a big deal, Jennie, it's not my first tattoo," she jokes. "I just—"
"If you don't shut up, I'll have your name and Social Security number printed across my entire back," she threatens with a laugh, but I get the feeling she would actually go through with it to prove her point.
I stay quiet to try to think about what to say. I should just blurt it out right now before the gun touches her clear skin. If I wait . . .
The now-familiar buzz of the gun sounds, and black ink litters Lisa's back.
"Now, come over here and hold my hand." She smirks, holding out her hand to me.