Her and the Basketball Champion

chapter 27

Jonas

I'v fucked up bad. Like really fucked up.

Shit, why did I do that.

I fucking regret it. Everything.

I know there's no use in following her, and all I see is her tense back, walking further away from me, and I can't do shit to stop her.

Why did I fucking make out with that girl, Lola or whatever.

I wish I hadn't, because now Eliza will be pissed at me. She's already avoiding me as much as she can, and I hate it.

I know she didn't serve me deliberately, and sent that other blondie, because it would just be an excuse to talk to me.

Don't get me wrong, I get why she's doing it, but I still don't like it. It's fucking breaking me.

I have no idea what to do, because I just can't let her stay pissed at me can I?

I run my hands through my hair, feeling a tug on my arm.

Shit, I forgot I wasn't alone.

"Hey, what's the matter." Her voice is nothing like Eliza's, and I cringe away from her high pitch moving away from her touch, just like Lizzie's been doing to me.

I kind of feel bad for the girl as she frowns, her lips pouting.

"Um, sorry but this" I gesture between us, " was a mistake."

She bursts out crying and I grimace. No fucking way. Eliza would never cry about something like that. In fact, I'v never seen her cry before.

What the fuck do I do.

I walk away. I have no idea how to comfort people, let alone a stranger, and I certainly don't want to be comforting the person I was about to have-

You know what, I just need a distraction.

I turn right from the Cafe and walk down the long street for about five minutes, rounding another corner to come to a row of shops. This road is buzzing at this time of night with bikers and clubs. I spot the familiar shop I'v only seen in pictures and walk towards it on the far end of the street, past the clubs and bars.

Seb's Tattoo Parlour is written in big green letters on the front of the shop, and I stand in front of it for a while, deciding whether I should walk in.

I mean, no harm right? I know the owner and I'v always wanted a tattoo. Plus I wanted a distraction, and this seems like the perfect one right now.

I slowly walk to the double doors and open one, glancing around the small room with what looks like a dentist's chair in the middle. The walls are surrounded with different tattoo designs and people with their whole bodies full of them. The lights in the room are dim, casting an eerie glow, but there's a singular lamp hovering over the chair in the middle of the room.

On the left as you walk in, there's a desk, likely for the receptionist, but there's no one there.

I hear footsteps coming and look around, spotting a door in the far right corner of the room. It's not that big, and is disguised with pictures on it, making it hard to see as soon as you walk in.

I wait for the person to open the door, and smile as I see the familiar face walk through.

"Jonas my boy, how are you?" His deep, cheerful voice fills my ears and he embraces me in a hug. He's about two inches taller than me, with a slight stubble on his face, and dark brown eyes.

"I'm good. How are you? How's Mark?" I ask. Mark is his son, and we kind of grew up together, but I havn't seen him since he moved to London, working as a music producer.

"I'm good, Mark's good. He's coming down in a few days. You should stop by the parlour again. I'm sure he'd like to see you. When was the last time ya'll spoke?" He asks, walking over to the desk to tidy up some scattered sheets, and pictures.

"I think it's been around two years now. I don't have his contact details, but I'll definitely come down in a few days to meet."

Seb nods his head and looks up at me with a questioning gaze. "So, what brings you here at this time?" He asks, staring at me. I shuffle on my feet and shrug at him.

"Wanted a tattoo. Thought this was the best place to get one." I reply. I really hope he doesn't turn me away because I need the physical pain right now. Plus, I'm only 17, and I'm pretty sure he only takes 18+.

He raises his eyebrows at me. "How old are you, kid?" Shit, I knew this would come up, but I can't lie. I hate lying.

"Um, 17?" I say nervously.

He chuckles and shakes his head, still staring at me."I'll let you off today kid, alright?" He says.

I sigh in relief and nod my head, hoping he won't change his mind about this.

He gestures for me to sit down on the chair in the middle of the room and walks over to me, pulling up a chair so sit beside me and turning the lamp on.

"What do you want, and where do you want it?"

I already know the exact thing I want and I take the pen and paper from seb's hand, writing out the words I want, then I point to the specific spot on my body that I want it on, lifting up my shirt as I do so.

I watch as Seb grabs the tattoo gun and stares at the paper for a few seconds, ingraining the words in his head.

I watch every movement of his as he slowly and carefully places the tip of the gun on ht skin and gets to work. I wince at the pain that shoots up my body as soon as the gun starts moving, writing the words and engraving them on my skin forever.

I already know that I won't regret this decision, and it finally hit's me like a ton of bricks that what I'm doing is a big deal for me. I guess it was kind of a spur of the moment thing, and I'm still not happy that it had to come around like this, but I know that I'll love this tattoo forever.

When I no longer feel the coolness of the gun tip on my now scorching skin, I look down to where the tattoo is placed, just above my v line on the right hand side of my body. I move my hips and wince at the stinging pain still lingering, staring at the imprinted word.

Princess.

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