Burn

Chapter 4

I storm out of the room, down the staircase, past the living room and into the kitchen, a towel wrapped around my body. Zara is seated on one of the barstools at the breakfast bar eating a bowl of cereal and reading the new issue of vogue magazine. I snatch it from her slamming it down on the marble.

“Hey!”

“What is this?” I ask turning my back towards her, ignoring her outcry.

“A tattoo of a butterfly” She says looking at me like I’m a moron. I roll my eyes.

“That, I can see. But the question is why do I have it?”

“How am I supposed to know? You’re the one who wanted it” She smiles, a wicked gleam in her eyes. Just then Zara’s older, hotter brother Reda walks in the kitchen in gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a gray sleeveless T-shirt which is dark with sweat, like his hair. He’s been working out. He walks towards the fridge and takes out a carton of milk and takes a swig of it. He doesn’t even notice us but then again he hasn’t noticed my existence for four years and tries to ignore Zara as much as he can. He glances towards us and looks over to me from head to toe, and I blush furiously, doesn’t notice me for four years and when he does I’m only in a towel that barely covers my ass.

“Interesting choice of attire, Jac” He’s teasing me? I hope. I blink at him, unsure what to say. Okay! I admit I’ve had a crush on him for a quite a while now but I mean who wouldn’t, he’s tall, well-built, tan, dark chocolate curled brown eyes with camel like lashes, twenty year old, a law student in Yale. He’s every girls dream!

“Umm…..I-I’m going t-to go ch-change” I stutter mentally face palming myself. I rush back upstairs and lock myself into the bathroom.

 Zara drove me back home at about 8pm, when I don’t see my mom’s or dad’s car in the driveway I heave a sigh of relief. I open the door and go upstairs to my bed and throw myself onto my bed. I get off the bed and open the door to my walk in closet; the light turns on itself showcasing all the luxury designer wear dresses, shoes and bags from my mother’s business trips. Valentino, D&G, Christian louboutin , Vera vang , Versace, you name it I have it! This is my parent’s way of saying sorry for ignoring you all your life but still interfering enough to absolutely ruin it. I end up in a satin nightdress that reaches mid thigh. My blonde hair hanging loosely on my shoulders.

I stand my back towards the full size mirror observing the tattoo, tracing my finger over the black ink such fine detail. It’s small but extraordinary! Whoever must’ve done it must have had real experience. Wait a second! ...didn’t the person who did it know better than to make a tattoo for a drunken teenager? I think I remember him….right the curly guy? …HARRY! I grab my phone off the dresser and press call on my Zara’s name.

“Hello” she says groggily into the phone and I can tell that she was asleep.

“Hey! Do you remember where I got my tattoo from last night” I ask.

“Um I don’t remember…but it was about a mile’s distance from the club we were last night” She says and hangs up before I can say anything. Rude much.

I change from my nightdress back into Zara’s jeans and blouse. I grab my purse while slipping on my shoes. It’s about 10 pm by the time I leave the house in my BMW towards the tattoo parlor.

I look inside of the parlor and it’s practically empty .I push the door open and go in.

“Hello!”I call, a few minutes later a guy I remember named Liam walks out of a door sipping on a can of beer.

“You again” He looks rather unhappy to see me. I nod.

“Yeah, I came in last night with my friend and I just wanted to know who gave me my tattoo” I ask, shuffling from leg to another.

“He’s out back” He says pointing towards a door towards his side. I mumble a thanks and head out the door, the shop open to a dark alley, the only source of light being the streetlight get Goosebumps on my arm.

“What are you doing here?” A voice asks, I turn around and see harry leaned against the brick wall, a cigarette between his fingers.

 “Looking for you” I say.

“Why?” His tone is bored.

“Because you are a terrible human, who in the world let’s a drunken girl get a tattoo, I couldn’t tell the different between left and right and could barely stand on my two feet, you should’ve let me out of the parlor not give a Tattoo!”My tone is accusatory and I’m pretty sure I’m red in the face by now. He takes another drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and stepping on it.

“First of all , It’s not my job to tell you right or wrong and my job was to make the tattoo which I did and for the kicking you out of the parlor I did try but you and your friend were very persistent and plus you should be thankful I gave you  a small one you asked for one which covered you’re whole back” He is standing right in front of me and I have to look up to him since he is about two heads taller than me , his green eyes staring into my blue ones. He takes a step forward and I take one back , we repeat this till my back is against the brick wall , He leans forward , his breath fanning my face. He move’s his head to my ear.

“You and I both know you wanted it but you’re just scared of what mommy and daddy will say” He whispers into my ear before pecking the skin behind  it. I push him away and I see that a smirk is plastered onto his face. I storm back inside and leave the tattoo parlor without glancing back.

As I’m driving back to my house I can’t help but wonder if he was right or not. Of course he doesn’t, he doesn’t even know me but why did his words have such an effect on me and why did just a peck behind my ear had fire ignite through my whole body which I thought was already dead , forever and for always.