“Can you do it? It’s for a competition in a magazine I entered, and the piece can take a few sessions.”
Banner nods. “If the art is good, then yeah.”
“Thank you. I’ll bring it home later. You staying again?”
Banner glances my way, silently questioning me. I shrug. “If you want to. I don’t mind.”
Levi relaxes when he nods to say he’s staying. “How come you’re back early?” I ask.
“I came to ask if you’d ring Banner. I was panicking. I’ve waited ages to get this spot in the magazine.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
Levi and Banner share a look, before Levi addresses me. “It’s a big tattoo.”
“And?”
“And it’s painful. It’s not something you’d have for a first tattoo. And it’s drawn for a male.”
I roll my eyes. “It can’t hurt that bad. Are you saying I couldn’t handle it?”
Levi steps back, looking to Banner for help. When Banner takes his own step back, his hands in the air, I roll my eyes.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t handle it. I just wouldn’t recommend something that big for your first time. Once you’ve had one and you know you can tolerate the pain, then look into getting a bigger one.”
“Good. Let’s go, then,” I tell him, walking over to the chair next to the front door and picking up my bag.
Levi and Banner are still standing in the same position when I turn around, watching me like I’ve lost my mind.
Banner snaps out of it first. “You can’t have your first tattoo without me there.”
I smile at that, remembering the time he was telling me he was going to take me when I was better. He didn’t know it then, but I was looking forward to it.
“You’ve got a meeting to go to, remember,” I remind him.
He shrugs, rolling his eyes as he pulls his phone out. “I’ll text Rafner to let them know I’ll be running late. He’ll be there early. I wouldn’t miss this for the fucking world.”
“Let’s go, then,” I tell them, giving Levi an imploring look.
He shakes out of his shock, and nods. “Okay, then. But if Mark asks, you totally begged me.”
I giggle. Mark doesn’t have a say; he’s covered in tattoos, just like Levi and Banner.
As we leave, the bounce in my step is evident.
I’m getting a tattoo, something I never thought I’d do, since I’ve always been afraid of needles. I can’t think of the pain all three have mentioned when we’ve spoken about theirs, otherwise I’ll chicken out.
And this is a tattoo I really want.
*** *** ***
I’m impressed with the shop Levi has set up. He has six different rooms in one space, the tops of the doors fitted with glass, but the bottom made of solid, dark wood to give each client privacy. The counter at the front is painted black, and the front of the shop it is covered in pictures and photographs of tattoos they’ve done. It’s great, and not at all how I pictured a tattoo studio. I imagined loads of skulls, snakes, and rock and roll on the walls, but instead, there is art. Beautiful, incredible art.
“Levi, this place is amazing,” I tell him, before my focus snags on a woman getting her thigh tattooed, the door to the room she’s in slightly ajar. She doesn’t even flinch when he scrapes the needle across her skin.
Banner nudges me, and I look away, embarrassed I was caught staring when the woman only has on a small pair of shorts.
“Sorry, did I miss something?” I ask.
They both laugh at me, and my cheeks heat.
“Follow me,” Levi says through his deep chuckles.
I follow him to a room at the back where a black chair that looks like it belongs in a dental clinic sits. On the side are bottles of lotions, a pile of tissues, cling film, and other bits and bobs. The machine next to the chair catches my eye for a few seconds before I start looking at the row of little bottles of ink on the shelf under the window.
“This is all amazing. If I had any artistic abilities, I’d totally be doing this. How long have you been doing it again?”
He chuckles as he sits down in his seat, gesturing for me to sit down in the dentist chair. I know it’s not, but that’s what I’m going to call it.
“I started doing it when Dad bought me my first gun at sixteen. I’ve been doing it, qualified, for six years, though. I love doing it.”
“I can see why. Some of these are fucking sick,” Banner says, flicking through a folder.
I try to peer over at the images but he’s too far away to see.
“Cheers,” Levi tells him, before turning to me, smiling. “Right, what do you want? A butterfly, star, dolphin?”
I roll my eyes at him, then turn to Banner. “He has it.”
Banner, hearing, looks up. “I have it?”
I chuckle at his puzzled expression. I’m a little nervous. I have no idea how he’s going to take it when I tell him what tattoo I want. “Yes. He has a semicolon on his thumb. I want it on the inside of my wrist,” I tell him, then swallow nervously. “And can you put Lara’s name in the middle, in script, please?”
Levi turns serious, clearing his throat. “I can do that.”
I try not to look at Banner whilst Levi starts setting stuff up. But when he wheels his chair over to me, I have to. He’s a hard person to ignore.
“You really want it?”
“Yeah. Do you think she’d like it?” I ask him, feeling a knot in my throat. He runs a finger down my cheek, and I soak in his warmth, closing my eyes briefly.
When I open them, the fierceness in his gaze has me catching my breath. “I think she’d love it. And she’d be fucking proud you’re going through with this.”
I laugh at that. “If she were here, she’d be teasing me, telling me not to cry.”
His smile is blinding. “Well, I have two shoulders, so if you want to cry, cry away. If you want to squeeze my hand, go ahead. But don’t break my fingers; I need them. If you need to bite something, you’re on your own,” he tells me, and I burst out laughing.
“You ready?” Levi asks, and I turn my attention to him.
My forehead creases when he raises the disposal razor. “Um, Levi, you do know I came for a tattoo, not beauty treatment, don’t you?”
Both he and Banner laugh. “It’s to shave the area,” Banner says, whilst Levi composes himself.
I blush, feeling stupid. “Oh.”
“Ready?”
I nod, watching as he wipes the area, shaves, then wipes it again. “Don’t you need a stencil or something?”
“I can freehand. Once I’m done, you check it to see if it’s perfect, then I’ll tattoo it.”
I nod, relaxing back into the chair whilst he draws on my wrist. The feel of the pen on my skin is relaxing, almost making me sleepy.
I roll my head to face Banner. “Can you see if it’s in a good place? I want to see it for the first time when it’s done.”
He nods, looking over to Levi, who has stopped drawing. “That’s perfect.”
I hold my breath when I hear the tattoo gun start buzzing, my heart beating rapidly against my chest.
As soon as the needle pierces my skin, I go lightheaded, more from the adrenaline running through my system, as so far, the pain is bearable.
I keep my gaze locked on Banner’s, but from the corner of my eye, I notice his phone pointed in Levi’s direction.
“Are you recording me?” I ask, my voice tight when my skin starts to sting and burn in one particular spot.
“Yes. You’ll want to see this later.” He grins, taking my hand in his. I squeeze his hand, grateful for him being here, especially when he’s missing a meeting with his coach.
The buzzing stops and continues, the burning so bad in places that I have to grit my teeth and close my eyes.
It will be worth it though. I know it.
“How you feeling?” Levi asks, and Banner’s eyes come to me, waiting for my answer.
“Good. It sti
ngs a little more in certain places, but other than that, it’s fine. It just feels like tiny cat scratches.”
He chuckles. “Some places are more tender on the wrist. Let me know if you need a minute, okay?”
I nod, but then realise he’s probably looking down at what he’s doing—well, I hope he is. “I will. I promise.”
“Have you got a sleeping bag?” Banner asks randomly.
I shake my head. I’ve only ever been camping a few times. “No. Why?”
“I have a tent for us to share, but I’ll have to get a list of what else you’ll need. I’ll grab you it when I go to get a new sleeping bag. Todd was smoking a spliff and burnt holes in my last one.”
“You smoke weed?” I ask, shocked.
He scoffs. “No. I’ll never touch the stuff. I want my brain cells intact, thank you.”
I relax a little, not knowing how I would feel if he had answered differently. Drugs have affected my life so badly, and I’ve never touched anything other than prescription tablets.
“That’s good—not about your sleeping bag, but that you don’t do drugs.”
His eyes shine with laughter when he smirks at me. “I don’t need drugs to have a good time or relax. I’m too mellow for that shit.”
I giggle at that. “You are the light of the party.”
He grins, looking sexy as ever. “There isn’t a party until I’m there.”
A thought occurs to me. “So, you’ve never done drugs?”
He pauses, thinking about it. “I think I tried weed at the back of the school field once, but once was enough for me to cough up a lung and swear to never do that shit again.”
I laugh at that. “So, you were completely sober when you climbed out of Mrs. Waldwick’s classroom window and down the drain pipe?”
He looks away for a second, his cheeks turning pink. I smile wider. “Sober as a judge. I saw a group of friends heading out of school, so I joined them. Didn’t want the teacher stopping me out in the hall and asking where I was going.”
I shake my head, laughing. “Or when you ran around the dinner hall butt naked with only a football covering your… your, um… your junk?” I ask, feeling my cheeks heat.
He chokes on his laughter. “Unfortunately, no. I wish I had been. It was Miss Drum that caught me. I lost a bet with the lads.”
I giggle, wishing I could have seen Miss Drum’s reaction. She was such a hard-arse teacher. If you sneezed, she gave you detention. She was so strict, everybody hated taking history with her.
“What did she do?”
He ducks his head when he answers. “Dragged me by my ear to the principal’s office. She pulled so hard I dropped the ball.”
I burst out laughing, seriously wishing I could have seen that. I bet she lost her shit.
“All done,” Levi says, shocking me.
“Already?” I ask, turning to face him.
“He did good distracting you.” Levi winks, putting his stuff away.
I look down at my wrist, feeling my eyes water. In a beautiful script, Lara’s name is written in the middle of the semicolon.
A tear falls as I look up at Levi, feeling my throat tighten. “I love it. Thank you so much.”
He looks away, his own eyes going misty. “Anything for you.”
I nod, looking down at my wrist before turning to bring it closer to Banner, showing him. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yeah,” he says, sounding choked up. I look up, my heart stopping when I find him staring at me and not my tattoo.
“I’ve got some cream at home for you to put on, so all you have to do when you get back is lightly run a wet cloth over it. I’ll put the cream on tonight before you go to bed.”
“Thank you again, Levi. I couldn’t have pictured anything better. It’s perfect.”
Banner gets up, leaning over and kissing my forehead. “I’m proud of you. You did it.”
I look up, giving him a watery smile. “You thought I’d chicken out?”
He chuckles quietly. “No. Like I’ve told you a million times: you’re the strongest and bravest person I know. I just meant you got your first tattoo.”
“Just wait until the next time something inspires me,” I tell him as I get up, looking over my shoulder to wink at him.
“Come on. I’ll drop you at home and then get to this meeting.”
“I can’t wait to show Lake. She hates needles too.”
“Maybe she’ll get one next,” Banner says, handing me my bag.
We turn to Levi, who is just cleaning down his workspace. “What do I owe you?”
Levi looks up, smiling. “Nothing. You’ll never have to pay for a tattoo with me.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, biting my bottom lip.
“Yep, now get going before you make lover-boy late.”
Banner scoffs—used to Levi and Mark’s nickname for him. “See ya later, mate.”
I wave goodbye, heading out of the shop, tucked under Banner’s arm. I can’t stop staring at my wrist, proud of myself for going through with it. It’s something I’m going to treasure forever, never regretting having it because the tattoo means more to me than people will know.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I hug my arms around myself tighter, whilst trying to keep a hold of the umbrella. It’s pouring down with rain, the wind picking up and sending a chill through me, even though I’m wrapped up in a winter coat, a hat, scarf and gloves.
What I’d wish to be at home, curled up on the sofa watching a sappy love story on the television. But no, Mr. Flint called us in on a day we don’t normally attend so he could go over our coursework for the term.
Mr. Flint is late, and for some reason, the front entrance to the English building is locked. I have no idea what is going on or what the protocol is when a teacher doesn’t turn up. At high school, if a teacher was ten minutes late, we could go to the dinner hall until the next class.
I glance around the sea of faces waiting to be let inside to see if one of them can help me. They all seem to be talking in groups, or with a friend. There is no way I have the courage to walk up to one and interrupt what they are doing. I’d make a fool out of myself, or most likely get ignored when I call ‘excuse me’ to get their attention.
When I see a girl standing under the tree, even though thunder and lightning is on the horizon, I decide to approach her. Unlike the others, she’s alone—like me. As I approach her, the other students begin walking off. I look around, puzzled, wondering if I missed something or if they’re going home, sick of standing in the rain.
Not wanting to stay standing in the dark on my own, I pick up my steps. She’s reading something on her phone when I reach her.
“Hey, do you know what’s going on? Where is everyone going?”
“Did you not get the text?” she asks bluntly, glancing up from her phone.
I shake my head, not realising the university sent out texts. I check my phone just in case, and other than a text from Banner saying he’s heading back to mine, I don’t have a message.
“No. What did it say?”
“It just said the front entrance was under maintenance and to use the side door,” she tells me, pulling her hood back over her head when the wind blows it off.
I lift the umbrella over her, so she’s covered, and she smiles gratefully. “Do you know where it is? I have no idea. This is the only entrance I was told about.”
“Yeah. I took a different class last year that was through that entrance. Come on, we can walk together.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m Emma, by the way.”
“Becky.”
“You took night courses last year?” I ask, starting conversation. I feel awkward with the silence. I’m also curious as this was the first late-night English class they’ve done. The others are usually done through term breaks.
I feel her gaze on the side of my face, but I keep looking at my feet, watching where I’m going before I trip and fall. Also, eye cont
act with strangers makes me nervous.
“I get bored. I’ve got a job at an accounting agency, so this is my only time to do it.”
“You get bored?” I ask dubiously. Why on earth would she take classes when she’s bored, instead of taking up a hobby? And if she already has a job in accountancy, why start up another course?
Bizarre.
She laughs at my expression. “I know, I know. I get that look all the time. I love learning, though. I took an accountancy course first, then an electrical engineering course, and have even got qualifications for piercings, childminding, and a few other things. I’m also a qualified phlebotomist.”
I gape at her in shock. She really is bored. “What the hell is a phlebotomist?” I ask, hoping I said it correctly.
She giggles as we reach the side door. “I take people’s blood. I still do it on Saturdays at the local blood bank. I enjoy it, but there’s no way I could do it to earn a living.”
I look at her in wonder as I put my umbrella down, shaking off the rain before stepping inside the building. I’m just through the door when a cold shiver runs down my spine. The feeling of someone watching me has my heart beating wildly against my chest. I scan the area outside, but with the dark shadows and pouring rain, it’s hard to see past what’s in front of me.
“Are you okay?” Becky asks, stepping forward so we’re side by side in the doorway.
I paste on a fake smile. “Yeah.” I shake my head, clearing my throat. “I can’t believe you do so much. It’s incredible. Why are you taking English? You don’t have to answer—I’m just really curious.”
I’d love to know, too. There is so much you can do with an English degree. I’d like to know what she plans to use it for.
“Something to do, really,” she says, shrugging. “And it never hurts to improve on certain subjects.”
I laugh, in awe of the girl standing in front of me. “And accountancy; why did you choose that?”
“I excel at it. I’ve always been good with numbers.”
When we reach our classroom, I stop just outside the door, facing her. “Before we go in, I have to know; why an electrical engineering course?”
Almost Free Page 7
