A Paper Trail

by Magan Vernon

  We were barely out of the car when Don came barreling out, wearing a way-too-revealing gold man thong and a purple mask. "HAPPY MARDI GRAS!"

  He downed a big plastic glass of something red and then hopped on Blaine's back.

  "Well, someone's already started the party," Dina said.

  "Yeah and y'all better catch up," Don said, hopping off of Blaine and then grabbing drinks from the cooler next to him.

  I shook my head. "I'm not drinking. DD."

  He laughed. "You're such a good girlfriend, Libby. If I was into blonde Yankees, I'd take you home to meet my mama."

  "Yeah and if you didn't prefer dudes," Jackson said, smacking Don on the ass with his free hand.

  "You're just jealous," Don said, practically skipping to his front door.

  We followed Don into the duplex, where it looked like Mardi Gras threw up. It was a small, front room with a dark wooden floor and a few couches, but every bit of furniture had a half-dressed person on it and all the other surfaces were covered in beads or various bottles and cups.

  Don pointed to the people sitting around and introduced them quickly, but half his words were slurred and the other half were him laughing.

  "Let me get y'all a drink that isn't whatever shit beer Don pulled out of the cooler," a girl said. She had very tanned skin and wore a dress that looked like it was made of green, purple, and gold beads.

  I waved my hands in front of my face. "I'm good. I'm not drinking. I'm driving."

  She laughed. "Well we ain't going anywhere, honey. The Quarter is for the tourists who get drunk and gropey. The Garden District is where it's at."

  "Oh, I didn't know we were staying here." I looked around the room. Not that there was anything wrong with staying around there, I just expected my first Mardi Gras to be on Bourbon Street. Though the way my stomach was acting and the fact that I was exhausted, it was probably better just to stay chill.

  The girl smiled. "Well, that's more like it. How about I make you a Hurricane? I make the best in three parishes."

  I nodded. "I guess. I can share it with Dina if I need to"

  I turned to see if Dina had my back but she and Jackson were already engaged in a conversation with another couple.

  I went to look back at the girl but she was already in the kitchen, pouring random bottles of liquor into the blender.

  Shit. What had I gotten myself into?

  ***

  I'd never actually gotten the drink or anything, for that matter. Some commotion had started outside and everyone ran past me with their drinks in their hands.

  I didn't know what I expected from a Mardi Gras parade but what I got was a lot of beads, boobs, and beer.

  Every single person crowded on the tiny front lawn and waved their arms in the air, while spilling their drinks, just to maybe get something thrown from one of the floats.

  If I wasn't sober, maybe I would have been as excited for some plastic beads.

  Or if I wasn't exhausted.

  Seriously, I didn't even have class that day and I was already dead on my feet. Maybe it was just the sickness taking hold, or maybe I really had been working too hard.

  Now that I was officially a sophomore, I wanted to be able to finish community college within a year. That meant I loaded up classes on Tuesday and Thursday and worked Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I was already signed up for a full schedule of summer classes as well. I wish I didn't slack off so much when I failed out of Illinois State, but I guess everything happens for a reason. I wouldn't be in Louisiana if I didn't. Or watching my boyfriend take his shirt off and throw it at some wide-eyed girl just so she'd throw him a giant set of pink beads.

  I sat back in one of the rockers on the front porch. There may have been a lot of activity going on, but I could feel my eyes fluttering with each rock.

  "Shit, is she sleeping?" I heard someone whisper.

  "Damn, is she that drunk?" Another person asked.

  "Naw. She's just tired. She's had a lot of shit going on." Blaine's voice was one I definitely recognized, no matter if it was half-cocked.

  "Well, you'd better wake her ass up if you want to head to Rue."

  I wiped my eyes before slowly opening them. "I'm awake, assholes, so you can stop talking about me."

  Blaine was standing in front of me with a wide grin on his face and his shirt still off, his body glistening with sweat as if he'd just come back from work or the gym. I used to think it was gross when a guy sweat, but the way it looked on Blaine's tanned skin was more lickable than anything else.

  "Show her my work, bro," Don said, coming out of nowhere and slapping Blaine on the back.

  Blaine laughed. "Oh, yeah, check it, Lib."

  He turned around and revealed a pen drawing of a fleur de lis between his shoulder blades.

  "Um, that's cool and pretty impressive that Don could draw a straight line in his state," I said.

  Blaine laughed again before turning around. "Yeah. The guy could do any kind of art work blindfolded. But I'm going to trust an actual artist to do the real thing."

  "Okay...I guess?"

  Blaine put his hand out and I took it, letting him lift me out of the rocking chair. "So let's go."

  "Go, where?"

  "We're heading to Rue."

  "And that is?" I cocked an eyebrow.

  "Are you sure she isn't drunk?" Don laughed.

  Blaine ignored him and took a step closer. "Baby, we're going to the tattoo parlor. I've wanted to get some more ink for a while and this seems like a good time to do it."

  "Are you sure you want to do that right now?" I asked.

  Blaine smiled. "Sometimes you just have to live in the moment, baby."

  ***

  It was a way farther walk than I thought it would be to the tattoo parlor. Probably because the streets were packed with people and the more upscale area of the Garden District wasn't exactly packed with tattoo parlors.

  At least Don had put on some pants, but both boys still weren't wearing shirts. I guess they figured they could get away with it since barely anyone was clothed on the streets.

  The Rue was along a street of brightly colored houses. It was electric yellow with a big, flashing neon "Open" sign in the window. Walking in, it was like Mardi Gras never stopped with the loud music, colorful chairs, and artwork covering all of the paneled walls.

  "You sure you want to do this?" I asked Blaine for about the hundredth time.

  He squeezed my hand. "Of course I am, baby. Why? Do you not want me to get this done?"

  I stared at the walls of art work. There were rows and rows of paper with ink drawings of tribal symbols or other things that I'd seen on just about every sorority girl and fraternity boy on campus. It wasn't something I ever thought about doing myself, but definitely something I could see that people liked to show their individuality. As long as it wasn't a Chinese symbol that probably didn't mean what that person thought it did.

  "All right, Crabtree, you ready?" a Cajun woman's voice bellowed.

  I turned toward the voice and saw a large black woman with two full sleeves of tattoos and a shirt that read "Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional."

  Blaine nodded. "Yeah. I'm ready."

  She waved him back and shuffled toward a black leather chair. I followed behind them slowly, wondering if it was typical for a woman that looked more like a voodoo priestess with her long black dreads and burning incense, to be a tattoo artist.

  "Okay, Crabtree, what are you in for?" the woman asked, sitting down on a wheeled stool.

  Blaine turned his back to her and waved his hand as far as he could up his back."I want this. Right here."

  She laughed. "Well, if you want me to just take a Sharpie over it, I can."

  "Naw. My buddy Don did this and I like it enough to make it permanent," Blaine said, pointing his thumb in Don's direction.

  Don stood in the corner, just grinning.

  The woman raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You know this thing is going to be pe
rmanent on your body forever."

  Blaine nodded at the woman's arms. "Were you sure about yours?"

  She laughed. "Some of them. Some I just got because I was a dumb kid and Louisiana lets you get tattoos at any age as long as you have parental consent."

  "One of the things I love about Louisiana. There are rules, but it lets you have your own individuality. I've lived here all my life in St. Bernard parish and I don't plan on ever leaving. It's where my heart is and I want to know that if I've got Louisiana's back, it always has mine," Blaine said.

  The woman nodded and a broad smile appeared on her face. "Okay, Mr. Crabtree. You convinced me. Now lay down, so we can make that ink more permanent."

  I was fine watching Blaine lay face down on the chair while watching the lady prep him. I was fine when she started tracing and getting the ink ready.

  But once the hum of the needle started and hit his skin, a trickle of blood leaked out. Then I was done.

  My stomach lurched and my eyelids fluttered. "Um. I'm going to use the bathroom," I managed to squeak out.

  "Down the hall and to the right by the back door, honey," the tattoo artist said, not taking her eyes off of her work.

  "Thanks," I muttered, before I quickly turned around and rushed in the other direction.

  I opened the black door that was at the end of the hall and prayed that it actually was the bathroom. I sighed a breath of relief when I turned on the light in the little red room and saw the toilet.

  Slowly, I closed the door behind me and stared in the mirror above the pedestal sink.

  It was the first time I looked at my reflection in a while and it wasn't a pretty sight.

  I turned on the water and rinsed off my face, but dark circles and pale skin aren't easily washed away.

  I kept scrubbing, even though I knew I had make up on, but the makeup wasn't covering anything, in fact, I think it made me look worse.

  I barely heard the knock on the door and only knew there was a knock because it slowly opened and Blaine stood there, looking at my reflection. "Are you okay, baby?"

  I met his eyes in the mirror. His face was crimson and his shirt was still off. I may have looked and felt like shit, but, damn, did he look good standing there in nothing but his jeans. Since it was springtime, he'd been working longer hours and all that time working with his hands had made his arms more developed. I loved tracing each line of his hard bicep.

  "Yeah. Sorry. I guess I'm kind of a wimp."

  He stepped behind me and put his hands on my shoulders; his warm finger tips trailed down the length of my arms before he leaned in and brushed his lips against my shoulder. "You're fine, baby. More than fine. You've been great. Not many other girls would do everything you've done for me, even when you feel like shit."

  I smiled. "It's your birthday, and our first one together, I wasn't going to miss it."

  He moved the strap of my dress to the side and his lips lingered just above my skin before he kissed my shoulder, then moved his mouth to my neck, causing goose bumps to form everywhere his lips grazed. "One of the many reasons why you're the best," he whispered.

  An involuntary moan escaped my lips as his finger tip-toed down to my thighs. His hands splayed against my warm flesh while his thumbs inched up the hemline of my dress. Delicately slow, his thumbs slid under my dress and ran along the silk of my underwear.

  "Do you think this is the place to be doing that, especially when you have a new tattoo?" I asked, but knew the moment his fingers slipped beneath my panties that I didn't exactly care where we were.

  "Doing what exactly?" he whispered before nipping at my ear.

  I opened my mouth to speak but instead only a whimper came out when he ran his thumb along my center.

  "Hmmm..." He raised an eyebrow, his eyes locked on mine in the mirror. Blaine slid one finger inside of me while his thumb circled my sensitive flesh.

  I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip to keep from moaning as I pushed myself against his hand, burying his fingers deeper. My whole body perked up from his touch and I felt more alive than I had all day. All it took was one hook of his finger and I was coming hard on him and couldn't hold in the little gasp that escaped my lips.

  "Damn, baby, you're so wet," Blaine whispered into my shoulder.

  I arched my back and moaned again as he twirled his fingers inside of me. He put one hand on my waist and then slowly pulled his hand back. I whimpered, already missing the feel of him. But he quickly spun me around so that I was facing him.

  With his free hand, he pulled me toward him and I melted into him as his mouth met mine, his tongue dancing behind my lips as if he were savoring all of me.

  I groaned, sliding my panties off, wanting to be closer. Wanting him to take me. Yes we were in the bathroom of a tattoo parlor, but there was something about his bare chest, the way his hands roamed, and I found myself panting with need.

  "Think anyone is going to notice you're gone?" I asked, undoing his belt.

  He grinned and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. "N—"

  Before he could finish his word, a knock came at the door. "Hey, you two aren't knocking boots in there, are you?"

  "Shit," Blaine muttered.

  I picked my underwear off the ground and shoved them in my purse. "Guess we'll have to continue this later," I whispered.

  Blaine cocked an eyebrow and looked at my purse, then to me. "If you're not going to wear those, then that's all I'm going to be thinking about."

  I shot him a wink before opening the door to a wide-eyed Don. Then I looked back at Blaine. "Think all you want."

  Chapter 3

  "Are you sure y'all don't want to just stay here?" Don asked.

  He stood in the doorway, the party still going on in full swing behind him.

  Jackson laughed. "And where in the hell are we supposed to sleep? On the floor with twenty of your cousins?"

  Don shook his head. "Hey, this is the south. We're used to it."

  Blaine put his arm around me. "Even so, I think we're going to have to pass. If Libby has trouble staying awake on the ride home, I'll try and help her out."

  "By helping her out, I hope you don't mean you plan on finger banging her while we're in the backseat," Jackson said, raising an eyebrow.

  Blaine grinned. "Naw, I'll wait until we drop y'all off and do it on the hood of the truck in your driveway."

  Jackson frowned. "You'd better be kidding Crabtree."

  Blaine just laughed and somehow I had the feeling that he wasn't joking, but if he thought I was climbing onto the hood of his truck in the middle of the night when there were bugs out, then he was in for a rude awakening.

  ***

  We dropped Jackson and Dina off at their place. After Christmas, they had moved in together. One of Dina and I's co-workers said it was way too soon for them to be moving in when they just got back together, but I didn't comment. Truth be told, I was hoping at some point Blaine would suggest moving in together as well.

  Not that I didn't love living with Aunt Dee, but it would be nice to not have to worry about her walking in on us if we were trying to fool around, or to have a curfew at twenty years old.

  "So...about what we started at the tattoo parlor." Blaine's hand slid up my leg, resting right where the hem of my skirt met my bare skin.

  "Careful. You don't want to distract me and have me go off the side of the road in your truck."

  I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and he was grinning. "I'd take the hit on my insurance. It'd be worth it."

  "Gee, how romantic. You'd let me wreck your car so you can finger me." I rolled my eyes.

  "Hey, I wouldn't say it that way. I can do things all romantical and shit."

  I snorted. "Romantical and shit? That's even better."

  "Fine, turn off on Conger road instead of going toward my house." He pointed out the window.

  "No! I'm not going to pull over and have sex with you! Do you remember what happened last time we did that? There was
a cop banging on our window and I got my hair caught in your belt buckle."

  He laughed and shook his head. "I'm not making you pull over for that, baby. Just give me a chance, will ya?"

  I thought on it for a moment, but decided to get him the benefit of the doubt and turned onto Conger Rd.

  "How far am I supposed to drive?" I asked, glancing at Blaine.

  "Not much longer and you'll turn," he said, smiling like he had a secret.

  It felt like I was driving forever and I was starting to think it was just a rouse to get me to stop and give in to him.

  "Okay, you're going to see a big barn up here and you'll turn on the dirt road right before it," he said, pointing out the front window.

  A gray barn that looked like it had more wooden planks on the ground than on the actual structure came into view.

  "This one?" I asked.

  "Yep that's the one."

  I raised an eyebrow as I turned down the narrow dirt road. "This seems like something that would be in the beginning of a horror movie. They turned down the old dirt road and a guy with a chainsaw came out of the woods."

  "I'm trying to do something nice and you go off talking about chainsaws."

  "Doesn't it turn you on when I talk about power tools?" I raised an eyebrow.

  He shook his head. "Baby, you're lucky you make me laugh."

  "And why am I lucky? Would you not keep me around if I didn't?"

  "No, then you'd just miss out on this." He pointed out the front window.

  I looked at where his finger landed and could barely make out a sign. As I pulled the car closer, the silhouette of a 1950's car hop on a small billboard had the faded words "Elsbury Drive-In" scrawled across it.

  "Don't you think it's a little late for a movie?" I asked.

  Blaine shook his head. "This place has been shut down since the 1980's. At one point, they were going to bulldoze it and put in a Piggly Wiggly, but the funding fell through."

  "So, why are we here now if there isn't a theatre?"

  He smiled and nodded out the window. "Star gazing."