Just Friends. (A falling in love with my best friend story)

Chapter 11: Another Tattoo

  Genna's POV:

It was the day right before school, and Mary told Parker and me we could wander around town with a twenty each to go do stuff. She must've felt sorry for me because of how I seemed to be reacting at the hospital. And sorry for Parker that he had to put up with me.

        "So what do you want to do?" Parker asked me. We passed a tattoo parlor and I pondered for a minute. They were giving out free ones today.

        "A tattoo? Are you nuts?" He asked from behind me. I shrugged, since yeah I was nuts.

        "I already have one." I said.

        "Where?" He asked.

        "The inside of my left forearm." I said. He told me he didn't believe me, and I didn't expect him to. I wasn't going to show him, since the scars were still very visible. Some weren't healing because I kept picking at them. I pondered. My first tattoo was supposed to symbolize what my mom always said when something went wrong. No matter how bad it went, she'd always say "So it goes." Basically her way of saying we can get on with life. 

        "I'm getting one. Want one?" I asked. His eyes widened.

        "No way! Mom'll kill me." He said. I shrugged and walked inside, and hearing him groan loudly, he followed me. Even though he didn't want one, he still wouldn't let me go in alone.

I looked at the choices on the wall, and thought back to anything symbolizing mom I could do. Mom had a tattoo of butterflies and vines on her stomach, and others, but I didn't remember the exact designs anyways. I saw a design that looked really cool, like birds flying away. I picked my design and walked in, sitting on the chair. There was a 20 something year old guy with dark brown hair, big green eyes and a nose piercing, along with a tattoo of a flame on the side of his neck.

        "You know which one you want?" He asked. I showed him and he curled his lips in approval.

        "I like that one. Where at?" He asked. I showed him the side of my right arm and he nodded, asking for my arm. I stretched it out and he started sterilizing the whole inside and outside of my arm, and I winced, sucking in a breath when the alcohol was rubbed against my cuts. He noticed them and I saw him shake his head in sympathy and he started working on my tattoo. I looked around, not even noticing the stinging sensation. It was a whole lot worse when I did it on the inside of my wrist, on top of the cuts the first time. That wasn't such a smart idea. 

When he finished, I looked at it and smiled, nodding at him. He smiled back and told me quietly to keep on going strong.

I met Parker outside the door and he was rubbing his hand, wincing in pain. The punk girl next to him looked happy and satisfied before walking away.

        "My mother is going to kill me." He said.

        "Why on earth did you get one?" I asked. He shrugged.

        "She was hot and I overheard her complaining to her friend that everyone ignored her just because she was the newbie. I felt bad." He said quietly so she wouldn't hear. I pulled him outside, laughing.

        "You sap. Show me show me show me." I said. I was always in a better mood after getting something cool, like a tattoo or a nose piercing. He showed me his hand and I smiled. It was just a black star, but it fit him. He asked if he could see mine and I hesitated. It was along the top of my arm, so as long as he didn't turn my arm over, I could risk it. I pulled my sleeve up and showed him and he looked at it in awe. It was a quote in french and it looked like it was written with barbed wire. The details were amazing, and it didn't look sloppy at all. He had loopy, curvy handwriting and dotted the eyes as x's.

The quote was "Si seulement j'avais la force de continuer".

          "What does that say?" He asked.

       "If only I had the strength to carry on." I said, then spoke it in french, since my mom brought me up by teaching me french as a second language. 

        "That's beautiful. It kinda fits you." He said.

Oh if only he knew.