Book IV of the UNC Series
Carter Blake has a bone-deep hatred for the world-and especially for the people in it. All he wants is to keep his head down, focus on school and basketball, and avoid the mess of human connection. After enduring years of...
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I exhale steadily as I follow the line along the stencil. Running stippled lines to shadow in the dark areas, I concentrate solely on the piece before me. Music pours through the overhead speakers, filtering through the room and masking any distractions that might bother me. The light is bright white, illuminating every intricate detail and element.
Ignoring the dragging pain and the needle repeatedly pricking my skin, I wipe away the excess ink and the trickles of blood that escape the inked wound. Sitting up, I stretch my aching back and look at the design I drew in my sketchbook. Loving the bright, vibrant colours of my new tattoo, I grin, water down the tattoo with saline, and wrap it.
Keyan always told me that good tattoo artists never hesitate to tattoo themselves; this shows confidence in their work. I can't help but smile at the image of Olive's paw print, with the grooves of a basketball filling it above my knee, adding to my growing sleeve.
I always knew life was short, having lost the two people who meant the most to me and learning about Carter's dad, but Olive's accident scared me too much. I didn't think about her lifespan until the accident, and even then, the thought that I'd lose her one day has my heart clenching in my chest.
So, even though she's thankfully still with me, I want her permanently inked on my body so that I can always remember her. I also had to add a touch of Carter there.
Even if Carter never loves me back, I want something to remind me that someone besides the Bishop's family values me, cherishes and respects me. I want to remember the feeling of not being valued for the sex I offer.
He likes me for who I am, and that's simply enough for me.
Looking back at this tattoo, I want to remember how happy I am. Some of my tattoos are random, but the ones that have meaning always symbolize the people I've lost or the memories that often bring me down. I don't want to forget this feeling.
But this is the first time I genuinely feel joy at a piece of art.
While I used to fear what loving someone would mean, knowing that I lost Mom and Liv, I'm not scared anymore. Carter helped me overcome that fear. He always stood by me, helping me overcome my Spencer addiction and finally gave me the space to talk about Liv, even though it was painful. I know I should come clean about Ricky; it's the only thing hanging between us.
I wanted to talk to him once he returned from Boston, but it turned out he didn't even go, and after Andre came by, it didn't seem right to bring it up. But I have to talk to Carter after my conversation with Noah and Penny today. I don't have any excuses to delay it further.
After all, he's the reason I was able to call Noah, who asked me to come by so we could speak in person instead of over the phone.
I'm taking the small steps needed to return to my old life—not the life I hated but the one I cherished and missed, the one that brought me hope. For that simple reason alone, this tattoo trumps all the others on my skin.
