Draw Me In

by Regina Cole

  My eyes welled, and I sniffed. I hadn’t really thought about that.

  Gulping water helped to ease the clogging in my throat, and I stretched my legs out in front of me, the backs of my sandals making divots in the gravel. Dragging the warm spring air into my lungs, I blew it out, imagining that the exhale held my worries and stress.

  A quick glance at my watch revealed that only five minutes had gone by. I still had time to try to figure things out.

  I set the water bottle down, twisting it into the gravel to keep it from falling over. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I looked up at the sky. It would be great to think out loud, but I’d seem like an idiot if anyone came out here and caught me talking to myself. Who could I talk to? Dr. Fields was out. Even though he’d been a wonderful sounding board in the past, something had changed when I told him about this job. Despite his medical background, he didn’t seem impartial about my job. Lily, or Rose, maybe I could talk to.

  My hand drifted to my pocket, feeling the hard edge of my cellphone.

  The last time I’d tried this, the phone must have screwed up. That was the only explanation for Mom’s phone to be out of service. Should I try again?

  I glanced at my watch. Three minutes left on break. Enough time? It’d have to be.

  I pulled the phone free and unlocked the screen. Before I could open the contacts, a voice behind me made me jump.

  “Hey, kid, do you have those consent forms on the girl who wants the bumblebee? I’m ready to start on her now.” Roger was poking his head out from behind the metal door.

  I pushed myself to my feet. “Sure.” Grabbing my water and shoving my cell back into my pocket, I followed Roger back into the fray. I’d call Mom after work today. Hopefully, the call would connect, and I’d get some good advice and some reassurance. If nothing else, I kinda just wanted to hear my mother’s voice.

  After grabbing Roger’s paperwork, I took over from Neill, who had yet another customer. I found my gaze following him as he led the laughing girl into his studio. Jealousy rose in my throat, bitter as bile. I shook my head determinedly. Nope, not going there. I’d bury my attention in my work and not think about him working on her skin.

  More checking in, more forms, more customers; some were polite and easy to deal with, while others made me want to scream, they were so obnoxious.

  By the time six o’clock rolled around, I was exhausted and just a little bit cranky. Arranging stacks of paperwork into piles to be filed the next evening, I glanced up to see Neill turning the lock.

  “Hey,” he said in a soft voice. His eyes were drawn, wary. “I’m really sorry about today. Normally, Sundays are kind of slow. I’m not sure what the deal was today. Did it go okay for you?”

  I paused halfway through shutting the filing cabinet drawer. A lot had happened today, but I’d gotten through it. After clicking the drawer shut, I turned to Neill and shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’m not really sure. There was a lot to deal with.”

  My honest answer seemed to sail right into him like a bullet. His shoulders fell as he leaned harder against the counter. “I know. I did a shit job. I should have pushed some of those people off till next week and stayed up here with you.” He stared straight into my eyes, making my breath stick in my throat. “But you seemed so confident, so cheerful. I should have known you’d never let on when you’re being overwhelmed. You’re too nice.”

  I nodded slowly, glancing away. “I should have been more up front with you.”

  Neill gave a sad laugh as he shook his head. “No way is this your fault. I’m just not used to being the boss. When Karl comes back, he’s going to kick my ass for this, and rightly so.”

  “Karl?” I asked, tilting my head in question as I moved closer to Neill. “Who’s that?”

  “He’s the other half-owner of Sinful Skin. He’s kind of . . . Well, he’s my mentor and my friend. Helped me out a lot, made me his apprentice when I was just a kid.” Neill shoved his hand through his hair, the shaggy mass falling back into the same position when his fingers left it. “Hiring you was kind of my first official act on my own, and I kind of fucked it up.”

  And there it is. I winced. “So hiring me was a mistake?”

  “No!” Neill rushed around the counter, grabbing both of my hands and staring into my eyes. “No way. You were awesome today. I had a few people comment on how nice you were to them. It’s the way I treated you. With Tasha gone, I should have stayed close by.”

  I stood stock-still, looking up into Neill’s eyes. He was holding my hands, both of them, so tightly. His body was close. He was tall, but maybe if I tilted my chin upward, let my eyes slide closed, leaned in to him just a bit . . .

  He bent to me, and the brush of his lips against mine was so quick I thought maybe I’d imagined it. A flash like a camera’s lit behind my closed lids and fire blessed my lips. But then it was over.

  He dropped my hands suddenly. “I’m sorry. Listen, can I make it up to you? Maybe dinner or something?”

  I swayed where I stood. What was that? He kissed me and just as quickly moved on?

  I couldn’t do this. My reason came crashing back. No way. I wasn’t sure I could do this job, and getting involved with Neill would make that decision even more difficult. Besides, relationships didn’t work. I had more proof of that than most people.

  “I need to get some homework done. Early class.” I smiled tightly and grabbed my bag from beneath the counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though. Four o’clock, right?”

  The disappointment was plain on his face, but he nodded. “Yeah. Four is great.”

  “Thanks, Neill. See ya.”

  Without looking back, I trotted through the lobby and shoved open the back door. Pressing a trembling hand to my lips, I walked faster. I needed to put distance between us if I was going to get some perspective on this situation. And perspective was something that I desperately needed.

  Neill

  I watched as Hailey disappeared out the back door, the heavy metal swinging shut behind her with a thump. Shit.

  The other guys had already bugged out for the evening, leaving me there in the shop alone. The lights were out in all the rooms except my studio and the lobby, where I stood.

  I let my fist fall to the counter with a heavy thump. I’d really fucked today up.

  With a sigh, I headed back to my studio. Why had I deserted her like that? I had promised her that the other guys and I would be there for her, but I’d spent more time in here with clients and farting around with my sketchpad than I had helping her learn her job.

  Was it because of how you feel when you’re with her? the inner voice sneered. You want her, and you can’t deny that, as much as you hate the idea.

  “Dammit,” I groaned as I fell onto the stool by the black tattoo chair. “I do want her.”

  Soft drums thumped through my speakers, and I glared at them. I must have forgotten to shut off my iPod when the last client left, so it was cycling through my most recent playlist. Lacing my fingers, I propped them atop my head as I tried to sort out my tangled thoughts.

  She’d been wonderful, really. She’d remembered everything Tasha had taught her the day before, and what she hadn’t remembered, she’d figured out. Even with some pretty tough clients, she’d seemed to hold her own. But as the day wore on, her eyes had gotten tired, her smile more strained. And then I’d kissed her. By the time she’d run out the back door, I’d been afraid she’d snap like a guitar string.

  The counter spread out in front of me, all my inks back in place, my machine cleaned and ready for the next piece of art that would be mine to create. The rack of drawers beneath the counter drew my notice, and without really wanting to, I rolled the stool toward them. Running my fingers down the front, I stopped at the third drawer and pulled it open.

  The sketchpad’s corner had been crumpled by the careless way I’d shoved it in there earlier. Carefully, almost reverently, I pulled the pad from the drawer and smoothed out the creases as bes
t I could. Standing, I laid the sketchpad on the counter and opened it to the page I’d been working on earlier.

  Hailey, laughing up from the page. My chest ached for a second, and then I made a decision.

  With quick, brutal movements, I ripped the sheet from the sketchpad and then slammed the book shut. Crumpling the drawing, I stalked through the dim studio and threw open the back door, moving out to the gravel lot behind. Grabbing the lighter that Roger kept stashed behind a loose brick at the back of the shop, I crouched in the rough rocks and lit a corner of the drawing. Small orange flames started eating away at the paper, then licked higher, blackening the paper and curling it tightly until flakes of ash floated away in the slight breeze. When the flames got high enough to flick close to my skin, I let the paper drift to the gravel-covered ground.

  This attraction to Hailey had to die here and now. I wasn’t doing her any favors. Or myself, if I was honest. Remembering the panicked way I had rifled through her purse, I slammed my eyes shut and tilted my face skyward. God, I was such a fucking mess.

  “Hey, man, you good?”

  I jumped to my feet and whirled, startled. I caught Roger’s easy grin tinged with confusion. The shorter guy had come down the alleyway, a brown paper bag in his hand, but was walking toward me now.

  “Yeah, fine.” I probably should have checked the lot before my impromptu rite of cleansing. Roger’s car was still there, parked in the back corner of the lot.

  “Starting a bonfire?” Roger crouched by the dying embers of the sketch, which was thankfully too burned to be recognizable.

  “No, just some personal information I needed to destroy.” My lie came so easily that it surprised even me. “Credit card stuff.”

  Roger pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it with the last flames from the paper. Rising, he took a drag. “You know they make shredders for that shit, man?”

  I gave a wry grin. “This seemed more final. I’ve got to cut the lights.”

  Roger nodded. “I’ll be here.”

  Suiting action to words, I ran through the final checks I’d done a thousand times at Sinful Skin. Checking the safe, adjusting the AC, arming the alarm, all of it was simple habit. By the time I’d grabbed my helmet and returned to the back door, I had put all thoughts of Hailey back where they belonged—in the employee only file.

  When I pulled the door shut behind me, twisting the handle to make sure the lock was engaged, Roger was just finishing his cigarette.

  “Hey, Luce is out of town. Want to come by my place, grab a beer?” he asked, pulling his jeans higher around his waist. They sank right back to their original position as soon as his hands moved away. “It’s too quiet around that place without her.”

  I thought about it, palming my helmet. I could either go home, do some work on that special commission I’d gotten last week, watch a movie, think about the problem with Hailey, or I could go to Rog’s and get shit-faced. The choice was simple.

  “Lead on, my man.”

  Chapter Seven

  Hailey

  The bus had been pretty quiet the night before, when I rode back to campus, but tonight? It was like a ghost town.

  Only one other occupant sat at the very back when I climbed on, three plastic bags dangling from my hands. The little drugstore, thankfully, had late Sunday hours. I’d been out of a bunch of essentials. I fell into the third seat on the aisle, setting my purchases beside me. A shopping run had given me the chance to decompress.

  Oh, really? the voice inside my head asked. I thought we were just avoiding facing our problems. Again.

  I rolled my eyes as the bus rumbled to a stop. I couldn’t even get my subconscious to cut me some slack. The older woman rolled her shopping basket down the aisle, bumping it down the steps as she exited. The engine revved and the bus rolled on.

  So what’s stopping you now? Why don’t you call her?

  With a deep, steadying breath, I pulled the phone from my pocket, the back of my hand rubbing against the rough bus seat cover. I didn’t let myself think about it anymore, just opened the contacts and pressed “Mom’s Cell” as quickly as I could.

  This time the phone didn’t bother to ring. It went straight to the error message. We’re sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service . . .

  When the bus rumbled to a stop at school, tears were tracking down my cheeks. I picked up my shopping bags and slowly descended the steps to the sidewalk.

  My chest was tight, painful like a heart attack, as I walked across the darkened campus. It was sort of eerie at this time of night, empty with shadows and faraway sounds. I ignored them as I entered my dorm. Why? Without a word to me, my mother had disappeared off the face of the earth, just like that?

  When I’d reached my thankfully empty room, I dumped my bags on the end of my bed and then dialed another number. One I’d sworn I wouldn’t be calling again for as long as I possibly could.

  So much for that vow.

  “Dad,” I said, keeping my voice as calm and low as possible. “Where is she?”

  “Well, hello, Hailey, it’s nice to hear from you.” The obviously phony cheer in Dad’s voice was too much.

  “Cut the crap, Dad, where is Mom?” My words came out in a nearly hysterical pitch. My free hand curled into itself, my nails digging into my palm.

  Dad didn’t waste time matching my upset tone. “I don’t know. She left. Her phone got cut off, and none of her friends will tell me. They say she’s safe, but she’s not staying with any of them . . .” He sounded far away, as if not really aware whom he was talking to. “It’s like she fell off the face of the earth.”

  I sank onto my bed, shock and anger morphing inside me until my stomach was a giant ball of knots. “It’s your fault,” I whispered, desperately wanting to hurt him like he’d hurt me. “You hurt her, you hurt both of us. And now she’s gone, and I can’t—”

  “Hailey, you have no right to talk to me that way. When the semester ends and you come home, you’re going to have to work on that attitude.”

  Through the pain and the confusion, I smiled. “I’m not coming home, Dad. I’m staying in school, and I’m paying my own way. So fuck off.”

  With a huge amount of empty satisfaction, I ended the call. He’d probably try to call me back and give me another lecture, the cheating bastard. Falling backward onto my bed, I stared at the ceiling.

  Mom was gone. Where? I had no idea. And I didn’t intend to speak to Dad ever again if I could help it. No, my parents’ relationship hadn’t been good; the fights and the ugliness had a lot to do with my mother, too. But his cheating was what had booted Mom out the door and made her run away.

  I sniffed as I rolled onto my side, tucking myself into a tight ball. The shopping bags crinkled beneath my feet.

  Wasn’t Mom supposed to care about me more than anything? People talk about a mother’s love like it’s special, stronger than any force on earth. But mine hadn’t even bothered to drop me a text to let me know that she was leaving. Didn’t she care?

  I buried my face in my pillow and let go. Raw, ugly sobs burst free, as if they’d been hovering there, just waiting for permission to go. I bit my pillow and let myself feel. Fear and loneliness shook me, whipping me like a poor soul stranded on a rocky beach in a storm. I couldn’t stop the feelings or the tears, so I rode it out.

  When my tears finally stopped, I glanced at the clock. Seven-thirty. I couldn’t lie here forever—I had to find out. It was early enough for me to do my own detective work.

  Rebooting my phone, I scrolled through my contacts and began dialing. I started at the top of the list of everyone back home I could think of. Somebody had to know where Mom had gone.

  Neill

  I woke on Roger’s couch with a mouth full of cotton and a splitting headache. Carefully peeling my cheek from the leather cushion, I slowly rolled over, then groaned at the brilliant sunlight that poured through Roger’s front window. Stupid fucking open-plan hous
e. Too many goddamn windows.

  “Hey, man, thought you’d never wake up.”

  I blinked, trying to clear the fog that seemed to cling to my corneas like saran wrap. The homeowner himself was grinning as he fried something at the stove. When the greasy smell hit my nostrils, I had to work to keep from puking.

  “I know, it smells awful right now. But trust me. Best hangover cure ever.”

  I staggered to my feet, clutching at my temples in a vain attempt to cure the ache. “You’re lucky. I’m only going to eat it because I don’t care if I die.”

  Falling into a kitchen chair, I thumped my head down onto my folded arms. Shit, I shouldn’t have done that. Alcohol didn’t solve anything. I had learned that years ago, but last night, hanging out here with Roger, I’d just wanted to blur my mind enough to keep Hailey’s face out of it. It hadn’t worked, had it?

  “Did I say anything last night?” I raised my head, but my neck didn’t agree with the sudden weight. Head bobbing a little, I scooted back in the chair. “I mean, anything that stuck out.”

  Roger scraped the contents of the pan onto a green ceramic plate. He set the steaming mound of scrambled eggs mixed with vegetables and bacon in front of me, along with a jumbo bottle of hot sauce.

  “Douse it, man. Trust me.” Roger turned back to the stove, where he cracked another egg into the pan. “As far as last night goes, I’m sure you said more than you meant to. But don’t worry about me. You should know by now that I’m good at keeping secrets.”

  I looked up from my hot sauce–streaked mound of food. My stomach groaned in agony. “Yeah?”

  Roger laughed. “Hell yeah, man. Don’t you remember? That cover-up from your first client ever?”

  “Shit.” I did remember. Karl had been out, and I had decided that I’d done more than enough practice on myself. I could handle something as simple as a word on a guy’s back. But I had slipped, and fucked up the piece. Roger had saved my ass then, fixing the tattoo and keeping Karl from ever finding out.