Becoming His (25 page)

“Where are we?” I ask, looking over to Savannah. She has a coy smile spread across her lips that tells me I don’t want to hear the answer.

I look to each of them, waiting for some sort of explanation, as I follow them up to the building, looking anxious and excited for whatever it is we’re about to do.

I watch as Mindi approaches the storefront. She’s more of a germaphobe than I am, so I’m expecting her to cringe and turn around and yell “joke,” or something that makes more sense than what she does, which is swings the dark-tinted door open and strolls inside, like this is somewhere she goes on a usual basis.

Kendall looks over her shoulder, eyeing me with a grin before following Mindi inside. My eyebrows knit together as my gaze roams around the exterior of the rundown building, searching for a store sign or some sort of clue as to our whereabouts.

“Come on,” Savannah says, gently shoving me in the direction of the door Jenny holds open with a guilty smile.

“Why do you guys all know what’s going on and I don’t?” I ask, walking through the door as I shoot Jenny a scowl. She’s the most likely to fold.

As soon as I cross the threshold, I don’t need a hint or explanation of our current whereabouts. It’s evident by the randomly placed, mismatched pictures in every shape and size that cover the walls. The décor and occupied chair in the corner tell me exactly where we are: a tattoo parlor.

“I’ll watch, but you guys know how I feel,” I say, shaking my head.

“We’re getting it together.” Savannah states.

“We?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “You guys decided for
me
what
I’m
going to get tattooed on
my
body?”

Jenny looks at me shyly, but Kendall grabs my wrist and faces me, her light blue eyes boring into mine. “You need to get over it, because it’s happening. You can choose where if you want.”

“Hey, wow, you weren’t kidding.” I look up to see a skinny man heavily covered in tattoos approaching us. My eyes skitter across his body, taking in the crazy amount of ink he sports and the several piercings that cover his ears, before looking to his face and watching him smile appreciatively at Mindi.

“Are you even supposed to get a tattoo while you’re pregnant?” I interrupt.

“Savannah and I will get ours once the babies are born,” Mindi explains without looking to me. “Ace, this is Scout. Ironic, I know. Scout this is Ace, Jenny, Savannah, and Kendall.” He nods to each of us with a grin that says he’s happy to see that we’re his next customers.

Scout leads us to a chair and eyes us. “So who’s going first?” he asks, griping the back of the chair.

“I am.” Jenny says, perching on the chair. He grabs some papers and a pattern from the counter beside him, and I realize that they’ve been planning this. They’re serious.

It’s not that I’m opposed to tattoos, in fact when I had turned eighteen, I’d marched into a tattoo parlor with Kendall to get one on the top of my foot. The artist had informed me how our hands and feet shed the most skin cells, and explained it would stretch and quickly fade, requiring constant upkeep and would eventually become much larger than the original tattoo. I didn’t really have a plan in mind to have a tattoo elsewhere, so I left and haven’t had the desire to go back since.

When Scout asks her where she wants to get hers done, Jenny extends her wrist. We all watch as he first scrubs it clean with alcohol and then transfers the design.

I crane my neck around Savannah to see what it is. “Are you kidding me?” I cry, “No way.” I shake my head, turning to leave.

“You said you wanted something symbolic, something that represents meaning,” Mindi objects.

“An infinity heart isn’t meaningful! I’m going to have a matching tattoo with the four of you, as well as four million strangers that couldn’t think of anything more creative themselves.”

Mindi looks sort of pissed. These days it’s tough to know how hard I can push her, but I don’t care, I don’t want this. “It’s so cliché! Come on.” I groan.

Apparently I pushed too hard, because the next thing I know Mindi starts crying. I apologize, feeling guilty, and somewhere in there agree to get this cliché symbol tattooed onto my body. Now I’m lying on my side with my arm stretched out over my head, wearing only my jeans and bra, which isn’t even fastened at the moment, as a needle repeatedly punctures the intensely sensitive skin covering my ribs while my free hand holds my bra cups securely in place.

“Is your name really Scout?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the stinging sensation.

“No. Is your name really Ace?”

I shake my head slightly before he glares at me, reminding me that I’m supposed to be lying perfectly still.

“Is that why she said ironic?” he asks.

“Ironic?”

“Your sister, when she introduced us, she said, ‘ironically this is Scout.’”

“Oh, no. I think it’s because my real name’s Harper.”

“Would it totally freak you out if I told you my name’s Lee?”

“You’re lying,” I deadpan. I watch a smirk spread across his face. I know he’s checked me out a couple of times, but I appreciate that he knows who Harper Lee is and give him a small allowance for it.

“You never know, it might be,” he says, not tearing his eyes from my side as he continues tracing the pattern. “How are you doing? You need a breather?”

This time I refrain from shaking my head as I vocalize a no.

“So this is your first ink?”

I confirm with a quiet yes.

“You chose a hell of a spot for your first tat, nothing like diving in the deep end.”

“It’s not so bad,” I lie, working to distract my mind so I don’t contort my face as he hits a particularly painful spot. Honestly it hurts like hell.

Before leaving, Scout asks that we pose for a picture. I hold my shirt and bra up, revealing my tattoo, beside Kendall, who has her back facing out, revealing the tattoo on the back of her right hip. Jenny has her arm extended, showing the small delicate work on the inside of her wrist. I have to hand it to Scout, for being a cliché symbol that I wasn’t looking forward to, he’s done an amazing job. They look feminine and delicate with skilled outlining and enough shading to make them artistic and beautiful. I still feel like it’s cliché, but I kind of love it.

“See ya, Harper!” Scout calls as we make our way outside.

“Later, Lee,” I say with a grin.

“No way! His name’s Lee?” Mindi cries out in shock. I just grin as I make my way back out to the minivan.

“D
o you think I should cut my hair?” Kendall stands in front of the department store mirror folding her hair. She briefly studies herself before finding me looking back at her in the reflection. Max and Jameson are due home either late tonight or tomorrow, they weren’t positive on timing, but we’re both feeling anxious. The last few days have been fun, but the constant thought of Max, and what he was doing, and how things would be when he returned have created a constant distraction.

“I like your hair the way it is, but if you want to cut it I know that will be cute too,” I say with a casual shrug.

“You’re a lot of help.” She groans, letting out a loud sigh as she releases her hair. “Let’s go eat. I’m hungry.”

Once seated and eating pizza, Kendall begins dissecting her relationship with Jameson. They’re still dating, but apparently the term exclusive hasn’t been declared, which makes Kendall uncertain of the validity of their relationship.

“Why don’t you talk to him about it? It’s not as though you’re not able to establish that step.”

“I know, but this is something he’s supposed to do!” Kendall whines.

“Maybe he already thinks you’re exclusive, but doesn’t realize it’s not implied? You guys have been dating practically all summer, and you
are
sleeping together.”

“That’s making an awfully big assumption.”

“Call him presumptuous, then, but you should still discuss it with him.”

“What about you and Max? What’s the deal there?” Kendall asks, knocking her knee against mine as I take a bite. I chew a little slower than necessary to craft my reply.

“We’re just hanging out right now.”

“You’re the worst liar.”

“What? I’m not lying!”

“You like him! We all know you do. He knows you do. When are you guys going to start enjoying some of the benefits of being an adult and dating?” Thankfully Kendall’s phone starts ringing, and I know by the ringtone that it’s Jameson. It sends my heart racing, knowing they’re home, or at least back on land.

I glance at my phone to check the time and see a message from Max.

Max: Where R U?

Me: You’re alive!!! Where are you?!

Max: @ ur house. Where R U?

Me: Downtown with Kendall listening to her relationship woes ... Can you please be a double agent and mention to J to ask Kendall to date exclusively again? It will save me a lot of time.

Max: U nd 2 lrn 2 abbreviate.

Me: You love it. I like vowels ;)

Max: Whn R U cmng hme?

Me: Soon, why?

Max: I hvnt Cn U N 4 dayz!!!!

Me: You know days and dayz have the same number of characters right?

Max: U luv it

Me: So what you’re saying is you miss me?

Max: I’m saying come home! Now!!!

Max: is that more clear? Easier to understand with vowels?

Me: So bossy! We’ll be home soon ... I’ll text you when we’re close.

“Who are you texting?” Kendall leans in to read my phone, and I turn my eyes to her giddy face as I covertly turn off my screen.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah, they’re home, as I’m sure you’re aware.” She grins, nudging me with her elbow. “I can’t wait to be back in school. Sex is not easy these days—”

“Too much sharing. I don’t want to know all the places you guys do it.”

Upon pulling into the driveway my door is opened before Kendall turns off the engine. Normally, this would startle me, but I already know who it is.

“You never texted me,” Max accuses, sticking his head through the open door.

“Hi, Max.” Kendall calls, retracting her keys. “Good to see you too!”

He looks up to her and grins. “Hey, Kendall, Jameson’s waiting for you inside.”

“Are we being used for one of their sexcapades?”

“Indeed. Want to go get ice cream?”

I turn to Kendall who’s checking her reflection in the rearview mirror with the biggest grin I’ve seen on her face since Jameson and Max left. “Have fun!” I sing, climbing out.

Max pulls me into a hug before I can get both of my legs fully out of the car, squeezing me tightly to his chest. “God, it’s good to see you.”

“But you obviously had fun. So much fun we didn’t hear from either of you.” I remind him as he frees me from his vice grip.

Max shakes his head and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his side. “We lost reception the first day after being out just over two hours.”

“I’m glad. I was worried you guys found like Megalodon or something.”

“The giant extinct shark that hunted blue whales?” he asks me curiously.

“Oh, Ace, you’ve finally found someone that speaks you’re language.” I turn to see Kendall hasn’t left. She laughs at the expression I give her, which from the way I feel likely resembles something along the lines of ‘shut up, Kendall.’

M
ax and I spend the evening together as he tells me about the trip and the ocean, reminiscing about the swells and the scent, the colors and the differences and similarities between here and Alaska.

I love listening to Max and watching him transition from deep and thoughtful to silly and animated as he recounts their run in with the Mexican border patrol, laughing as he discredits Jameson’s claim of speaking Spanish explaining he only knows produce translations.

We spend the next few days glued to one another, and it feels a lot like right before he left on his trip, except for the fact that there are even more brushes of our arms and hands, more glances and smiles, and although I’m about to go crazy trying to decipher what Max is feeling, I also feel reluctant for anything to change because as lame as it is, I’m willing to accept anything Max is willing to give me, and I don’t want to potentially lose any of it.