Jennie

#11. Get inked.

It was now or never.

V was preoccupied with studying. I couldn't blame him—he wanted to be top of the class, and there was someone giving him a run for his money. He pulled out his flashcard 59s to study, and I pulled out my car keys and left him to it.

Lisa would understand, right? She had five of the things. She would help me. Besides, she'd been in and out, prepping the renovation yesterday, and I hadn't managed a single moment alone with her. I missed my friend.

Oh, how you love to validate your reasoning.

Lucy was huge, yellow, and impossible to miss. I parked in front of her mailbox and picked my way across the newly aerated grass. Huh. The flowerbeds were freshly weeded, too.

Nerves tied my stomach into knots. Maybe I should have texted first? But I was here now, so I knocked, and Lee opened the door five heartbeats later. "Is Lisa around?"

"Hey, Jennie. Come on in." Odd how I liked someone I'd never seen smile, but I did.

The door opened directly to the living room, which was immaculately clean. Well, except for the giant bags along the dining room wall. They stood vertically like luggage, but had a weird, trapezoid-like shape to them. Hockey sticks leaned on them, so I figured the rest of that kind of gear had to be lurking in there.

"Jennie?" Lisa's voice triggered butterflies.

"Hockey?" I pointed toward the bags without meeting her eyes. Why had I done this? What was V going to think when I showed him what I'd done?

"Yeah. Jackson and I used to play in college." My eyebrows shot up. "Why so shocked?"

"Hockey just isn't a sport you hear a lot about around here. Were you any good?"

"Yeah. I mean, Jackson was better. Is better. But most college don't go on to the NHL or anything."

"You still play?"

She moved in front of me, so I had to look up at her or stare at the logo on her shirt. I looked up and immediately regretted it. Her eyes drew me in, made me forget things I had no business forgetting. "Pickup in Montgomery when we get the chance. Jennie, you're not here to talk hockey. I'm glad to see you, but what's going on?"

I swallowed. "If I wanted to do something considered a little crazy, would you help me?"

She crossed her arms in front of her, her ink peeking out of her shirtsleeves. "Define crazy."

"I want a tattoo."

Her eyes flew wide. "Seriously?"

"I just said it, didn't I?" Okay, so the tremors in my voice gave me away. I wasn't pulling off fearless very well.

"Is this on your list?"

Was she laughing at me? "As a matter of fact, it is, which is really none of your business. My only question is if you want to come with me."

"You need someone to hold your hand." Her smirk just about pushed me over the edge. I wanted to trace my tongue along the curve of her lips. Oh, I was going to hell again for thinking about that.

"I want…you," I whispered, the admission slipping free before common sense and decency could stop it. "I mean, I want you there. I figure you have experience and won't be all judgy."

"What does your boyfriend think?"

"He doesn't know." I raised my chin. Be fierce.

"And where are you planning on going?"

I shrugged. "I figured I'd go into Dothan and see if I could find a place."

"Jesus Christ, Jennie. You're talking about getting a needle repeatedly jabbed into your skin for some permanent artwork, and you think you'll just find a place? Is that all you think you're worth? Some random shop with their light on? This isn't getting your ears pierced. This is forever."

"It's not like I'm going to pick some cliché rose out of a portfolio. I know what I want, and I'm going, whether or not you come with me." Please don't make me go alone.

Her jaw flexed, and then she sighed. "I'll take you, just wait." She tapped a few times on her cell phone and set it to her ear. "Hey, Matt. You around? Nawh, man, it's good. I'm loving it. I'm actually bringing someone to see you if you've got an opening. Cool? Yeah. Be there soon." Another tap and the phone was back to her pocket.

"You have a tattoo artist on call?"

She shrugged with a grin. "You don't. Hence why you're here, right?"

--

"You ready, Jennie?" Matt asked, sliding into her chair behind where I reclined on my side, my shirt tucked into my bra. I nodded, unable to say much. This was definitely not what I expected. Everything was sparkling clean. It was all so…sanitary.

"Aren't you going to hold my hand?" I looked where Lisa hovered next to me. I felt her gaze on my bare stomach as surely as if her fingers were on my skin.

Her grin was contagious. "Do you need a little support?"

I nodded my head, my lower lip caught between my teeth. She took my hand in her and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Ok, I'm ready," I said.

Matt held a mirror to my side so I could see where he'd stenciled my soon-to-be tattoo. "Is this exactly what you want?"

"Though she be but little, she is fierce. Yes, that's perfect."

The gun started, and I jumped. "Let's not do that, okay?" he gently said.

I nodded and squeezed Lisa's hand so tight I was pretty sure I'd bust a couple bones. She took it in stride. "Look at me, not at him."

I turned my head away as the gun touched my skin. It wasn't too bad, just an annoying scratch. I could handle this. "Thank you for coming with me."

She brushed a loose strand of hair out of my eyes. "No problem. You a Shakespeare fan?" She asked, motioning to my tattoo with a nod of her head.

My mouth popped open. "You know this is Shakespeare?"

"Jeez, think a little higher of me. I've read A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"And you remember this exact line?"

One side of her mouth rose in a smirk, and my belly clenched. Did she have to look like that? "Sure I do. Act three, scene two, Helena talking to Hermia. Would you like the context?"

"Wow."

She laughed, the sound turning my muscles to liquid. "Don't be too impressed. I have a photographic memory."

The needle's itch started to burn. "Aren't you full of surprises?"

Her expression fell. "You have no clue."

I tried to concentrate on the brown of her eyes instead of the pain that quickly grew to thought consuming. "So this photographic memory, did it help you in school?"

"My degree is in physics, so it didn't hurt."

"You have a degree in physics and you're remodeling my storage room?" I hoped that didn't sound as condescending out loud as it did in my head. "I mean, not that your work isn't meaningful…"

"I like motion. It's easy to understand, easy to predict once you know the rules." She leaned back, keeping her hand in mine.

I wanted to move away from the persistent burn in my side but knew better. "How much more?"

Lisa took a good look at my tattoo. "About a quarter of the way."

I sucked in my breath. I could do this. It wasn't too bad, but it sure as fire wasn't pleasant.

She smiled softly. "Need a distraction?"

I sank my teeth into my lower lip. "Questions?"

"What do you want to know?"

"You're letting me go first? Really?" Man, that gun was beginning to hurt.

"Well, I'm not the one getting tattooed, so I'll have mercy on you." She ran the stud in her tongue along her teeth, and I stared, transfixed. "Jennie?"

"Oh, question. Right. I know you're all anti-relationship right now, but don't you miss having a girlfriend?" Oh my God! That was not supposed to come out of my mouth.

She played with the tongue stud again for a moment. I was fast learning that it meant she was thinking. "I've never been a relationship person. I've learned that the people you let in the closest have the power to hurt you the most, which doesn't really push me toward relationships."

I instantly hated whoever had hurt her. "That's a really cynical way to look at love."

"That's a painful place to get a tattoo. Pretty bold choice for a newbie." She abruptly changed the subject.

I understood loud and clear. "How much more?"

Matt sprayed something cool and soothing onto my skin and wiped it off before she set the gun to my skin again. "No, kids, we're not there yet," she joked.

"You sat through five of these?" I asked Lisa. Pain laced my voice into an almost whine. "I'm such a wimp."

"You're doing fine." I loved the feel of my hand in her. There was no awkward placement of fingers or clammy grip. It felt natural.

"Have mercy on me and let me ask another question?"

Lisa half laughed. "What do you want to know?"

"Tell me about one of your tattoos. Your first?"

Something dark flickered across her face. "How about my last?"

I nodded, willing to take whatever she would give.

She let go of my hand and lifted her shirt, revealing the black scrollwork that cut across her lower abs. My mouth watered at the idea of tracing it with my tongue. Bad! I shut that thought down immediately.

"It says, 'I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul.'"

Unable to stop myself, and careful not to move my upper body, I touched the black ink, her skin hot under my fingers. "'Invictus.'"

She sucked in her breath. "It's my turn to be impressed."

"I'm fixing to be a librarian, remember?" I forced my fingers away. "What language is that?"

"Tok Pisin. It's from Papua New Guinea."

"What?" I laughed, despite the pain wracking my ribs.

"Hey, don't move, or you're going to have some very different words over here," Matt threatened.

"Sorry, Matt," I said over my shoulder. "So, is English too trendy for you?" I joked at Lisa.

She looked over my shoulder. "What, Matt, you're not chiming in?"

"Nawh, man. My job is to keep the secrets, not to expose yours."

Her eyes flickered to mine. "They're my truths and no one else's. If I want to share them, it's my choice. Well, unless I travel to Papua New Guinea shirtless, I guess."

Her wry smile didn't fool me. "How many people know what it means?"

"Just you." She swallowed.

My breath stilled, and it felt like we existed in a time all our own. "Thank you for trusting me."

Her face was a kaleidoscope of emotion, changing too quickly to identify. "We're friends."

Before I could respond, Matt sprayed my skin again and wiped it clean. "You're all set, Jennie."

I looked over, scared to see if I'd end up as one of those epic fail posters with the wrong tattoo, but it was perfect. Fierce. "It's exactly what I wanted. Thank you." My voice nearly broke, but Matt took it in stride, cracking a smile.

He slathered on ointment, then bandaged it. A set of directions and a paid bill later, and Lisa and I were on our way back to Enterprise.

I loved my tattoo. I loved every black line, every curve of ink, every feeling that washed over me when I looked at it. I'd never done anything so permanent, or anything that was liable to get my butt whooped. But I wasn't afraid. Irene wouldn't have been afraid. No, she would have strutted into the house in a sports bra and rolled her eyes when Mama said something.

Maybe I wasn't as fearless as Irene, but she'd been right. I was fierce in my own right. As if the ink reached deeper than my skin, it seemed to bleed into my soul. I had given up so much in the name of being safe, and not only in regard to my heart. How much was there to give before I wasn't me anymore?

"Mission accomplished?"

"Absolutely. Best tattoo guide ever." I gently squeezed her hand, then released it. "Tell me why you have 'Invictus' across your stomach?"

She stared quietly at the road so long that I didn't think she was going to answer, our soundtrack only the chirping of crickets.

"What's with the Shakespeare?"

I smiled. Quid pro quo. She'd never give up something of her own without learning something equally deep. "I read it my sophomore year, and it spoke to me. Irene was always bigger than life, and growing up with that…well, it makes you feel smaller somehow, and not just in height. She was fearless. The last time we were together, she said, 'I may be wild, Nini, but you're fierce. Your heart is so much stronger than mine.'" I swallowed and closed my eyes for the smallest moment, almost feeling her arms around me that last time.

"Then she slipped this"—I pulled the paper I'd had my tattoo drawn from—"into my back pocket." Her eyes darted to mine. "I may be little, but I'm fierce, and I'm going to live every day remembering that. She wouldn't want anything else, and I'm so sick of accepting anything less."

Silence stretched between us while she deliberated. I kept my focus on her profile, letting her know that I expected her trust in return for mine.

"I left my house, my father, as soon as I was legally able to emancipate myself. I abandoned every plan he ever made for me, every expectation that anchored me to her world. I became the captain of my ship."

"The master of your soul," I finished. What could have happened that she would walk away from her family? My parents drove me crazy, but I couldn't imagine not having them.

"Yes. Don't feel sorry for me, Jennie. I can feel pity pouring out of you. I've never once regretted my decision."

I tried to blank my expression. "How old were you?"

"One day over seventeen."

I knew she wasn't ready to tell me why…yet. "Thank you for telling me."

We pulled into the driveway, and Lisa came around to my side, lowering me without brushing the tattoo. My feet hit the ground, and I smiled at her, all too aware of the shiver that raced through me at contact with her.

She cleared her throat. "How did you lose her? Irene?" I felt the blood in my face race out of it like someone had pulled a drain plug, and she flinched. "I'll understand if you don't want to tell me." Her hands lingered at my waist before she drew them back.

I wanted her to know, to put it together as much as I needed her to stay away from my personal nightmare. "She had a heart condition no one knew about. It gave out one morning while she was away at school, and she was gone. Sudden cardiac death. Just like that. No good-bye."

She hooked her thumbs in the pockets of her shorts. "I'm so sorry you lost her."

This was it, my chance to tell her naturally. Right. Now. Chills raced through me, but I opened my mouth anyway. "Lisa, you should know something."

"Yeah?" I saw it then, the flickers of trust in her brown eyes, the slightest opening in the doorway she kept so tightly locked to herself, and I just… I just…

"I really like being your friend."

I chickened out.