Read All My Life Online

Authors: Rucy Ban

All My Life (4 page)

BOOK: All My Life
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She looks warily at me and then at Neil. “What’s your damage peeps? Quit staring,” she says and walks off towards the coffee machine.

“I wonder what she’s been having.” Neil gives me a wide grin and then he…
winks!
Holy Mother of God!
He winked at me! My whole body feels tingly and I fight the urge to shiver. Only then do I realize the meaning of what he’s just said and my cheeks flame up.

Neil bursts out laughing at my reaction and I momentarily forget all my embarrassment because watching him laugh is the best thing I’ve ever seen in my entire suckass life. It’s almost like watching a trick birthday candle. A sparkle shoots up in his eyes and his cheeks heat up as he presses his broad hands down on his stomach. Just watching him laugh and I know. I’m in extreme danger of falling hard and fast for this boy. This boy whom I’ve met just moments ago. This boy whom I know absolutely nothing about!
Stupid, stupid girl.
When will you learn?

Minutes later, I put on my jacket and step out of the door, waiting for Neil to get his jacket from upstairs. There’s a chill in the wind so I pull on the hood of my Patagonia shell, trying hard to slow the frantic thudding of my heart.

But my palpitations only worsen as I walk down the street with Neil. Though for entirely different reasons. Because walking next to Neil in full public view is a painful exercise in humility.

Now in all fairness, a billowing hoodie can under no circumstances match the persona of a fitted leather jacket, butt-hugging jeans and shit-kickingly awesome black-boots. At least that’s what I keep telling myself as a deluge of appraising looks are thrown our way. It’s like wherever we go, a sea parts in front of us to make way. Ugh! Such a shallow petty crowd.

I decide to take our man Moses to a Mexican fast-food joint nearby. Yes. Exactly what my quivering stomach needs. A dash of extra spice.

We are just about to cross the street when I feel his fingers slipping into mine. What surprises me even more is that I don’t instinctively cringe at his touch. It actually feels like the most natural thing in the world. I suck in a sharp breath as a sudden realization hits me. The walls I have built around my heart are starting to crack. I don’t know why but the thought terrifies me to my very core.

Neil steers me through the traffic of people crossing the road and when we hop onto the sidewalk, he lets go. I snub the sliver of disappointment I feel at that and try to focus on the food choices instead.

“I hope you like Mexican?” I ask.

“Yeah, the spicier the better.” I turn to look at his grinning face and almost choke on the smile that threatens to take over my face. He’s back to being the gorgeous hot guy from the morning and his cheer is so infectious that I feel strangely buoyed, even though the reality is…my life is as unchanged as ever.

So really.

What in the fuck’s name am I so happy about? Eddie will still be waiting for me this Friday. I’ll still have to hand over a hefty portion of my hard earned salary to him. Why couldn’t I have met someone like Neil before? Why did my first time have to be with someone so hateful? An unwelcome memory flashes through my mind and I wince.

Suddenly something brushes against my face and I startle. Neil. He’s wiping something off my cheek. I cringe with embarrassment as I realize a tear must have slipped out.

“What’s wrong, Kari?” Neil bends his head, trying to look at my face. The kindness in his voice is my undoing.
I have to run away. Now.

“I have to go,” is all I’m able to say as I turn and sprint across the sidewalk. Half-way through, I realize if I go to the shop like this, I’ll have to explain my breakdown to Nalini. Wiping my tears on my sleeves, I walk down to a mall close-by and just wait out my lunch time sitting in one of the restroom stalls.

When I enter the shop half an hour later, Nalini is busy doing a nose-piercing on a new client and Neil is nowhere to be seen.
Thank you, dear God.
As the time drags, I wonder if he’s upstairs or maybe with his girlfriend or whether he’s gone back to Chicago and really, why am I spending time thinking about
him
at all?
I’ve got lots of practicing to do, papers to submit, projects to finish and a dinner to make. My life is already stacked high, right up to my freakishly pale-skinned neck.

The customer finally leaves and Nalini goes to get coffee from the machine.

“You haven’t eaten this?!” she yells from inside.

“Eaten what?” My stomach starts rumbling at the mention of food. Not surprising, since I’d skipped lunch and had a small bowl of cornflakes for breakfast.

Nalini comes out balancing her cup of coffee in one hand and a brown bag in the other. She plonks the bag in front of me as she takes a sip of her coffee.

“What is it?” I ask and she arches an eyebrow.

“You don’t know?”

“Err…no?”

She takes another sip from her cup and then scrunches up her face in confusion. “You both left together for lunch and then Neil comes back alone, saying this was for you. What gives?”


For me
?” Suspicious, I open the bag and find a heavenly-smelling, neatly wrapped-up BLT inside. This guy.
This guy
. Just…
wow
. Who even did such a thing these days? Toe-curling, good-looking guys I am a pro at ignoring but caring and considerate?
Jesus! I don’t stand a chance!
My stomach quivers as a million fantasies are unleashed in my mind. I imagine dinners cooked from scratch, surprise gifts, roses on the bed. It’s like a Tuscan romance trailer flashing through my head.

“What is it? Why are you acting all nutto?” Nalini asks.

Not wanting to break the spell, I just shake my head. Nalini comes closer and peers into the bag herself. “Now listen to me, Kari,” she says, her expression suddenly serious. “You have to get your hooks in this guy.”

“What?!”

“No, I am not kidding. He got you a BLT and fries from Benito’s?! They have like an hour’s waiting! You
have to
do the panty-melter,” she declares with her hands planted on her hips.

“Whaa?! What…did you just call him?!” I clutch my stomach to stave off the giggles while trying hard not to fall off the stool.

Nalini arches one eyebrow at me, “What?! Panty-melter? Just another name I thought appropriate for the vagina-bomber.”

“Christ! Stop it!” I say, wiping my tears. “One more X-rated name and my cheeks will need first-aid!”

“Oh, don’t be such a Mary Sue!”

“If you stop acting like Pippi Longstocking on crack.”

Nalini gives me a look that questions my sanity and then walks away, shaking her head.

I turn back to my sandwich and chomp off a big bite. It’s freakishly delicious! Either I’m starved or it’s just the best damn BLT ever!

“Oh my, oh my gawd. Ummm…Oh! It’s so gooood. Uhhhh.” I just can’t stop myself. It’s that good. Each bite more mouth-wateringly luscious than the other. In just five minutes flat, I hog down the entire orgasm-inducer. Christ! Now, I’ve caught Nalini’s virus too!

“Hmmm,” I let out a deep contented sigh as I crumple the bag and wipe my face. I get up to dispose it off but just as I turn, I see Nalini and Neil standing there, staring straight at me. Nalini has her palm covering her mouth and as I fix my glare on her, she bursts out laughing. She starts laughing so hard that she actually drops to her knees. I shift my glare to Neil and my heart skips a beat because there is not even a hint of amusement on his face.

Arms folded over his chest, his eyes gaze into mine with such intensity that even Nalini’s guffaws can’t soften their blow. I bite my lips to keep myself from keeling over but that only makes his eyes trail down. As I release my lip, his gaze moves up again and I’m sucked right in. It’s like there is an invisible connection between us. An almost palpable magnetism that is slowly but inexorably pulling me towards him. A particularly raucous laugh from Nalini manages to break my trance and I suck in a breath.

“You’re in serious need of a boyfriend,” Nalini proclaims loudly as she stands up and walks off to the bathroom, wiping her tears.

My cheeks heat up at her inappropriate unsolicited advice and I rush to the safety of the kitchenette. But I can’t stay hidden here forever, can I? And really, I was just enjoying my sandwich! What’s the big deal? A few minutes later, I hold my head high and march right back outside to find Neil sitting behind the counter, tapping away on the laptop.

He doesn’t look up when I walk in, so I heave a sigh of relief and head over to the bed-table, only to realize that I’d left my machine and designs on the counter, right next to him. Now, I have no option but to go across and retrieve them.

Be brave, Kari
. I take a fortifying breath, walk up to the counter and quickly make a grab for all my stuff but just as I swing around a gruff voice stops me right in my tracks. “Just with a BLT, huh Angel? I’ll get you another one tomorrow with brisket.”

I can’t see his face so I don’t know if he’s laughing. So I just purse my lips and walk away but just before plugging in my ear phones, I reply in an overtly dignified manner, “Thank you for the sandwich.” Then without waiting for his response, I plug in my ear phones even though I know they’ll be completely useless. I won’t possibly be able to hear anything because there’s only one word resounding in my brain right now.
Angel.
He called me an angel!

Humph. 
What is he? An alpha male wannabe? A classic western aficionado? I smirk to myself but then something sharp twists in my belly. I’m no angel. Angels don’t have sordid shameful secrets. Angels don’t have seedy sex tapes hidden in their closets. Out of all the things that I might be, I am certainly no freaking angel.

And I don’t even want to be called that fucking patronizing name! No. I absofuckinglutely do not. I turn up the volume, shut out the world and bend my head over my design.

I want to fight it,

This disgust, this body blighted,

I want to fight it,

My mind is messed up, my soul ignited,

I really do want to fight it,

This hurt, all those memories re-winded,

Oh! I want to fight it,

This scar that rips me apart. I’m not going to hide it.

Chapter Four

I’m just putting the finishing touches on a new design I’ve created when someone taps me on the shoulder and my focus slips. I watch in horror as a dribble of ink runs across the sheet, ruining an hour’s work. Seething with anger, I take off my ear plugs and turn around but all my anger immediately evaporates as I come face-to-face with…Agnas.

She’s looking a lot better. Her face has gotten back some of its color and even though her hair is not perfectly brushed, she’s made an effort to tie it in a pony tail.

Agnas gives a sad glance at my ruined design. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

I shake my head. “No biggie. I was just practicing.”

Agnas suddenly stills and looks straight into my eyes. “Kari, I’m also sorry for…earlier.”

My eyes widen with surprise. I’m taken aback with her directness. With my mother, meltdowns were events that were usually glossed over. Never discussed. Certainly never apologized for.

I nod slowly, wondering how to respond but then all the awkwardness flies right out of the window as she asks me her next question.

“So you wanna give it a real shot today?”

“What?!” Does she really mean what I think she means?! But it’s just too soon! I’m not ready for a real job yet! I wring my hands at the thought of marking someone’s skin forever. What if I mess it up?! No. No. No. I’m so not ready yet.

Agnas’s voice breaks through my turmoil. “You’ll never think you’re ready unless you actually go ahead and do it.” I wonder how she knows how to address my exact fears.
Right. Do as she tells you, Kari. Ball-bustingly brave, that’s us.

“Okay,” I say in a small voice and then look behind the counter. No one’s there. Nalini must have already left for the day. I wonder who I’ll be tattooing since there’s no one else around…and that’s when I see him.

Oh! My dear God! I can’t do this.

No really…I can’t!

I stare in horror as Neil, dressed in just his jeans and socks, strolls across from the bathroom and seats himself on the other bed-table. Then he looks at me and
winks
! Jheezus!!

I’m sure my jaw is touching the floor by the time he lies down on the bed-table and folds his hands contentedly behind his head.

“I can’t do this,” I announce loudly to the room.

Agnas shakes her head. “Of course, you can. Here, fill up the machine and I’ll show you the design he’s picked.” She walks over to the rack as she keeps talking to me, “I didn’t even know he wanted a tattoo! He’s never been keen on it before. I thought we’d do it with a customer first but this is so much better, dear. You’ll be more comfortable this way.”

More comfortable, my huge dimpled ass! I fumble with the machine as I fill it up with ink, wishing I could tell Agnas that I would have picked a customer over Neil any day. I steal a look at him as I prepare the machine. Glistening hard pecs, soft smattering of hair in just the right places…I squeeze my eyes shut.
Christ!
He looks completely at ease with himself! I wonder if he’s had a chat with Agnas about whatever she had been so upset about. He must have because now he’s looking so carefree, happy and so…
sexy as hell
.

I risk opening my eyes and my heart goes thumpy thump all over again. I trail his long hair, his lips, the hard ridges of his underarms, the strong planes of his chest…Oh! Damn! I completely forgot! 
Where exactly did he want this tattoo?!

Agnas comes over with the design sheet in her hand and I have to say, I’m a little surprised they’re both behaving so normally again. Apart from the apology, it’s like she never snapped at her son who’d flown half-way across the country to meet her. Wee-irrrd.

Anyways. Who am I to meddle in my boss’s affairs? I’ll just be the one to test my amateur inking skills on her son!
God help me! 

I study the design. It’s an edgier version of a dragon tattoo. “Where does he want it?” I ask Agnas.

“Ask him,” she replies. Then I watch with alarm as she picks up a handbag lying on the couch and walks to the front door without giving me a second glance.

“Agnas!” I exclaim belatedly as she’s just about to shut the door behind her.

She halts mid-way and looks at me in surprise. “What?”

“You can’t just leave! What if I botch this up?!” I turn to look at Neil sprawled comfortably on the bed table. He’s clearly enjoying this. I point my finger at him in warning. “And I promise you, I will botch this up.”

Agnas clucks her tongue. “Oh! You won’t. Have some faith in yourself. I’ll be back in an hour.”

The door shuts behind her and I pinch my nose to stop myself from screaming. I look back at Neil lying there in all his bare-chested glory. Then I look at the design sheet in my hand and take a deep breath. Then I get busy. I take the machine, spray bottle, jelly, razor, tubes, cups and place everything neatly on top of the side table.

I also tear a whole bunch of paper towels and keep them ready for later use. And just as I’m feeling happy about having prepped everything like a proper professional, Neil decides to rain on my parade.

“I think you forgot something.”

I look at all the supplies again.
What?!
What did I miss?
Nothing.
That’s what. He’s just trying to put me on the edge.

“Really? And how would you know, huh?”

He nips his lips with his teeth and I try to give him one of my famous death glares.

I fail.

I guess all my energy is already being used up in not looking anywhere below his neck.

“I’m just shooting in the dark here but don’t you think needles would be kinda essential?” he asks, not bothering to hide his grin anymore.

“Oh! Shoot!” I flurry off to the counter and dig out a sterilized pack of needles. “I got them! I got them!” I say, waving the  jabbing devices in the air and then like the manic obsessive person that I am, I re-order all the supplies on the side-table again.

Right. Now for the actual job. I look at the design sheet in my hand again. “So where do you want this?”

“Right here,” he says and I look up from the sheet to see where he’s pointing. Every single drop of blood in my body rushes up to my cheeks as I stare at his finger resting on his lower stomach.
Ack! I cannot do this.
I can’t. I can’t even look there. How will I bend my head on top of that…
area
of his body and actually ink something? Dammit, I cannot do this.

“I cannot do this,” I tell his lower stomach. Then averting my eyes, I look at the design sheet in my hand and shake my head. “Really, I just…
can’t
.”

“Okay.”

I look up at him in surprise and he shrugs in response. “I guess, Mom was wrong,” he says and folds his hands behind his head again.

I wait for him to explain. The clock ticks, the traffic outside simmers and Neil starts whistling again. I give up. “Jheezus! What do you mean?!”

He stops whistling and gives me a horribly condescending smile. “She said you’re a natural.” Then all the humor is wiped off from his face as he asks the next question, “You know how many apprentices she’s trained?”

I am too taken aback by his previous comment to respond.
A natural? Me?

Neil doesn’t wait for me to reply. “None,” he says, answering his own question.

“Then why me?” I ask him, suddenly wondering about why Agnas had chosen to hire me at all. She’s already built a great client base and she’s an excellent tattoo artist herself. I’d seen customers walk-in feeling unsure and by the time they left they would be raving about her skills. She didn’t need me. At all. Maybe someone to help around with the odd-jobs but certainly not an apprentice.

I look up and find Neil watching me with a strange expression on his face.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asks after a beat.

I furrow my brow. “Know what?!”

“How talented you are?”

I know. Of course, I know. I’ve always aced the Arts class. Obviously, I know I draw well. But tattooing? That’s a whole different ball game. The stakes are so much higher. You’re messing with someone’s skin here! Not a design which you can scrap and start over with.

“What if a hunky Harley rider comes in, requesting a dragon tattoo and I end up inking a donkey on him? You know like that funny GIF? What’s going to happen then, huh? What if I drive the needle in too deep and accidentally, like kill somebody? What then? The only way I see this ending is me in an orange jumpsuit sitting on an unsanitary pot in a dark, rat-infested cellar.” I take a deep shuddering breath at the scary scenario I’ve just painted out in such realistic detail.

A second later, as I look up I find a horror-struck expression on Neil’s face.

“Angel, you have a real knack for the gruesome. That has got be the worst possible scenario a tattoo artist has ever come up with.” His face breaks into a grin. “I knew it though. I told Mom you’ll never make it.” Then he starts doing this thing. He starts flapping his hands. “Buck, buck, buck, buckawk.”

Bare-chested Adonis or not, right now I have the extreme urge to fling something at his stupid face. Something heavy. Something that will hurt like a bitch.

I try to maintain my composure and give him a wan smile. “Yeah, thing is I’m not four. So what you just did? Doesn’t really work anymore.”

Alright then. Solitary confinement here I come. I snap on the blue gloves, take the alcohol, spray it viciously on his lower stomach and then apply some lather. With an evil grin I pick up the razor but as soon as I stretch my hand towards his stomach, all my bravado vanishes. Somehow the act of shaving him there
seems so intimate, so
improper
. Especially, since I’ll have to bend over him and stay that way for more than an hour while I ink him.

Be brave, Kari.
Think of him as your customer. Customers are not people. They are walking, talking currency notes. No feelings. Just business.
Right. Okay
.

My face flames up as I begin scraping through his happy trail. After a few seconds of scraping, I realize what he has isn’t a trail, it’s a whole forest! Ack! Weren’t all men supposed to shave their chest and stuff nowadays? Whatever happened to having fuzz-free Hollywood heroes as role models?

At least now, my embarrassment is completely foregone by the irritation at his lack of upkeep. The only thing distracting me now is that heady mix of musk, shaving cream and a distinctly…male scent. And God knows that is one seriously jeopardizing distraction. Especially with a whizzing needle in one’s hand.

The disinfection and shaving over with, I get down to business. Once I’ve stenciled the tattoo on his skin, I plug in my machine.

“Okay. This will sting a bit,” I warn him. As the needle starts etching his skin, I see his stomach muscles clench in response. A few seconds pass and as he gets used to the pressure, the tension gradually leaves his body.

I’d initially thought it would be hard to be artistic when you know your work is causing agony to another person. But no. Now, it seems even more imperative that my work be perfect, precisely because someone is willing to take the brunt of the needle for it.

In fact, I’m so focused on inking him right that I don’t even attempt any small talk. Something I’ve often seen Agnas do with the customers. However, my silence doesn’t deter him.

“Where do you live?” he asks.

“Around.”

“Around…like across the street in that grey house?”

I pause my work for a second and give him a questioning glance.

He smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, Mom told me.”

I don’t respond and get back to my work. Which in no way discourages him.

“So what are your plans?”

“Getting through college.”

“I mean more immediate plans.”

“Finishing the gazillion pending papers.”

“No Angel, like tomorrow evening. What are your plans for tomorrow evening?”

An unwelcome memory of my last date flashes through my mind and I whimper at the pain it lashes on me. I jerk off the machine from his body and take a sharp breath. Then I turn to face him and tell him through gritted teeth, “I don’t go on dates, okay? So just stop. Stop calling me Angel. Stop being so…
nice
. Just let me do this, okay?
Please
.
Just…
” I feel my face crumple so I quickly turn away from him and bend my head. Putting the machine back on, I continue with my work, all the while trying real hard to swallow the dry ball stuck at the back of my throat. Time passes, my needle etches and thankfully, I soon get so engrossed in my work that everything else blurs in comparison.

I sharpen the edges of the dragon’s tail, outline the cruelty of its jaw, the jagged spikes and blades of its wings. Then I fill it all up with another ink. And for that entire time, I am blissfully oblivious of all my dreams which remain unattainable, of all the angst, the frustration, the huge disappointment that is my life.

After finishing, as I straighten up and unplug the machine, I realize with shock that Agnas is standing right behind me. I was so completely immersed in the zone, I didn’t even hear her come in!

Just as I’m taking off my gloves, she puts a hand on my shoulder. “Oh! Kari. It’s beautiful!” I am surprised to hear her voice break and when I look up, sure enough, her cheeks are wet with freely-flowing tears. But she’s not looking at the tattoo. I follow her gaze and realize she’s staring at her son. Neil has his eyes closed, lips pursed and his fists clenched tight. And at that moment I can completely relate to the torture I see on his face. I may not know the reason for it but I know exactly what it feels like. A serpent sitting in your belly, writhing, lashing and threatening to take over your mind.

My body moves before my mind can even follow and I clasp his balled-up fist in my hands. He makes a strangled noise and clasps my hands tighter. Then he opens his eyes with a grimace and his eyes widen as they fall on my face. I immediately let go of his hand and step away. He shoots up from the bed table, looking around desperately. “Where’s Agnas?”

I look behind in surprise. “She was here…just a moment ago. Upstairs, maybe?”

Neil lets out a deep breath and jumps off the bed table.

BOOK: All My Life
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