Leap of Faith

Day Thirty-Eight

*~*~* Cate *~*~*

I’ve never been one to do reckless things- idiotic things- but when you leave me alone in a strange city with Anna for two whole days, there’s no telling what I’m capable of doing. Which is how, returning from New York City, I’ve acquired something new and very much permanent.

After finding Libby’s bridal gown and mine and Anna’s bridesmaids dresses, Anna decided that the three of us should do something to commemorate out trip. She had that mischievous glint in her eyes that meant that whatever she had planned wouldn’t necessarily be something Libby and I would agree to. My theory proved correct when our cab pulled up outside Denny’s Tattoo Parlor.

We stood outside for five minutes just staring at the place before Anna dragged Libby and I inside. We had ditched Mom and Vivian again, but for a brief second I kind of wished that our mom was here- she could beat some sense into Anna, for a start.

I had always expected tattoo parlors to be dirty with needles strewn across every available surface, but Denny’s wasn’t like that. To start with, it smelt like antiseptic and bleach, and just breathing made my nose sting. The walls were white and sterile. Framed photographs of tattooed body parts hung on the walls, and there were several flip books showing available designs which Anna made a beeline for. Libby and I barely made it inside before a burly guy came towards us.

“Good evening, ladies,” the guys smiled. The man wore a short sleeved shirt that showed off his heavily tattooed arms, and I couldn’t help but stare at the intricate tribal design that weaved its way around the other pieces of body art. The man must have sensed my gaze on his bicep because his eyes flitted to the same tattoo. “It took eight hours over six weeks to do in total. I’m Denny, by the way. I own this place.”

Anna came rushing over having heard Denny’s words and she cozied up to him. “You own this place? That’s great. Now,” she says, pulling the guy over to one of the flip books and pointing at a design. “My sister and I would like this one please.”

Libby and I shared a panicked loo, wondering which of us Anna was referring to when she said ‘sister.’ Denny had a sign up saying that women were not allowed to be tattooed when pregnant. Right next to that sign, there was one saying that it was illegal to tattoo anyone under the age of 18. Seeing that I was still seventeen for a few more days, that counted me out too, so…

Yeah, I have a small butterfly tattoo on my ribcage.

A tattoo! I’m just glad Anna and I had our designs tattooed somewhere inconspicuous. At least with mine inked halfway down the side of my torso, no one would see it unless I wanted them to see it.

“I still can’t believe you went through with it without me,” Libby hissed as our early morning flight came in to land. “So unfair to leave me out.”

“You’re pregnant,” Anna reminded our sister. “You’re not allowed to be inked when you’re pregnant.”

“Well, she’s only seventeen,” Libby pointed at me with fury in her eyes. “That’s illegal, too.”