marked.

Learning to Accept My Happiness

The moment ended just as fast as it came. When I tried to clean most of the leftover blood, the intercom came on.

"Will Miss Daniella Shay and mister Marco Rodriguez please make their way to the Dean's office?!" I sighed heavily as I jumped off the counter. My energy suddenly rose after the little moment I had with Marco, and I guess his did too. He was shuffling over to grab both of our book bags, but I think I noticed a little pink in his cheeks. I wanted to smile, but my head is still rambling.

I got into a fight.

He saved me.

He almost killed Travis.

He saved me.

I'm all fucked up.

He kissed me.

He... Kissed me.

We walked out, with faces looking straight ahead. He opened doors for me, and gave me an occasional hand to walk down the stairs. He seemed in better shape than me, which sucks because he fought longer. As we made our way to the Dean's office, I looked at my arms; most of my tattoos had covered the bruises, but the main things that were visible were my gash on my temple, and the big, fat plum on my cheek bone. There probably was some dried blood on my eyebrow, because I cold practically feel the thickness of an unknown substance around it.

Marco held the door for me as I creeped in. We were not even able to sit in the waiting chairs for the Dean Vargas to come in from her office.

"GET IN HERE!" She yelled. But of course, to her, yelling was just normal talk. Marco looked at me as I rolled my eyes. He wasn't used to her yet. When I walked in to her dramatically big office, the first person I saw was Travis; he was sitting in the arm chair furthest away from me and Marco. A nurse had been standing next to him with Q-tips, alcohol, and cotton swabs in hand. He glared at me, but refused to make any contact with Marco. I chuckled at the thought. Coward.

She caught my chuckle. "WHAT SO FUNNY, Shay? You think it's funny to mess up another classmates face?" She sat down, and slammed her hand on the desk. I honestly felt that she actually made a dent on the hardwood.

I sat up in my chair more and looked her dead in the eyes. "I actually think it was HILARIOUS... Especially due to the fact that HE STARTED THE FIGHT." I couldn't control my anger. I didn't know what to choose: either lunge at the Dean, or attack Travis again.

Dean Vargas raised an eyebrow and looked at Travis. "Oh really?" She looked at me with one of her cold stares. "Well, Mr. Travis Griffin says otherwise."

I turned my whole body to face Travis. I could feel my hands grip the felt armchairs tighter and tighter. My adrenaline was rising again... "Oh yeah? Who was the one who called me bitch, Travis? Who was the one who was blocking me from getting to school, Travis? Who?" I waited for him to respond. I didn't get any. "Who?"

The Dean kept glancing at both me and Marco. But her attention soon stood at him. "So, Mr. Rodriguez... How was our new student caught up in all this... Mess?" She raised an evil eyebrow and pursed her lips. "Hmmm?" 

He looked at her with flaring anger. "Well, if your students didn't suck so much, the fight wouldn't have even started." He kept his face glaring straight at her; as if he was trying to destroy her soul from the inside out. 

The Dean looked at him and laughed. "Okay, Mr. Rodriguez. I think you need to refresh your memory of the definition of suck. And if anyone here were to suck, it would be my two delinquent kids sitting right in front of me."

As Marco was about to get up, my hand flew across his chest, holding him down. The Dean smiled, as she wanted him to lunge at her, ripping her head off.

"That's it," I said. I looked at the Dean and stood from my seat. I walked over to her desk and planted both of my hands firmly on the table. "So what's it gonna be, Dean? What do you have in store for the tattooed girl this time?" This time, her smile faltered. 

She folded her hands, eyeing me as if she were to scare me. Please, I thought. My nightmares are more graphic than her. She's nothing but a woman of small power to me. Nothing about her makes me quiver, and she knows that all too well.

"Fine, Ms. Shay." She said as she began writing her punishments. "Three weeks detention with the janitor and one week of detention with Tech Leader." Dean Vargas signed a long paper and looked at me and Marco again, sharing glances at both of our faces. "THE BOTH OF YOU." She talked.

I snatched the slip from her hand and smiled at her. "Nice doing business with you Vargas." I guess my evil smile bugged her, because she gritted her teeth fearlessly, reminding me a of a dog. "I hope to see you soon." And I walked out, with Marco tracing behind me.

***

I shoved the Detention Contract into my back pocket, folding it messily. For some reason, all my bruises and cuts didn't hurt no more. I felt energized. Marco just stared at me as I walked out of school, planning on heading home. He kept following me, trailing behind, just watching me. I could practically feel his eyes glued to my back. I just stood quiet as I walked, eager to et home.

"What was that?" He finally asked, breaking the silence. For some reason, this stopped me in my tracks. I turned around and faced him.

"What was what?" I tried to sound oblivious to the situation, but it I knew he could read me like an open book. He gave me a look, and I sighed. "Look, this isn't my first time getting into a fight with Travis, or going to the Dean's office for something. And judging by the fact that I am who I am, this isn't going to be the last."

"What do you mean, 'I am who I am'? That makes no sense to me." He eyebrows made a crease in the middle of his forehead, and even though he was mad at me, I found this slightly adorable.

I looked at him vaguely. "Look, it's just different, okay? This isn't New York, so the way I'm seen over here and the way I was seen over there, are wo different things. I was never criticized over having permanent ink on my skin back home. Here, it's like I committed all seven of the deadly sins."

"Why do you care? Your beautiful the way you are. The reason you have ink on your skin, is because you chose for it to be there. All the tattoos you have made you happy. What difference does it make wherever you are in the world?" He took my hand and pointed to the rose I had on my left backhand. "Why did you get this one?"

I looked at the rose and it all came back to me. "My gran has a garden. When I was little, I used to spend springs and Summer's working on them, tending to each flower. In her little garden, there were more roses than any other flower. When I got pricked one day by them, I wanted to cut the Rose right off its stem. But my gran stopped me and told me about how beauty hurts. She said 'you can never learn to love, without getting hurt.' My gran got sick of cancer not too long ago. I got this rose for her." I wanted to cry, but nothing came out.

He just looked at me. "And when you go the tattoo, how did that make you feel?"

I looked at him with my eyes wide. "It made me feel like..." I took a breath and looked at Marco. "Like I had cured gran somehow."

He smiled. "This is only one tattoo, Dani... Out of all the ones you have, this is one story. And this tattoo made you happy... It gave you hope... It helped you go through tough times. What more could you ask for in something?" He took my hand and squeezed it. "Your tattoos shouldn't be a burden to you. Each and every one of your drawings permanently painted on your skin did something to you. You're Dani Shay. You're not them. Love yourself for who you are, stop hating yourself just because they don't understand you."

When he finished his sentence, no sound came from my mouth. Suddenly, flashbacks of when I got my tattoos all passed by me. I remembered every memory, every story, every feeling... I had already did a whole sleeve, and each picture was the completely opposite of the one next to it, but matches so perfectly. He just looked at me.I looked at him. And we stood there for a short forever.