No really, I'm okay. I'm also a great liar.

persuading jenna to follow her dreams and become a tattoo artist isn't that hard

I'm sitting in my room listening to Fall Out Boy and paging through posts on Annabelle's blog when Jenna enters our room. She flops onto my bed, and I instantly know she's stressed out -- that's what we do when we don't feel good.

I skip a couple of songs on the CD until I get to The Mighty Fall, which I know is her favorite. Then I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her against my chest, massaging her shoulders.

I don't ask what's wrong. She would tell me if she wanted to.

She taps my thigh twice, and I switch my hands to her hair. I can feel her humming along to the tune.

We stay like that for a while, and the clock reads seven forty when she finally opens her eyes and takes a breath.

"I feel like I'm not doing enough with my life."

My eyes widen. That was not what I expected. Usually Jacob is the existential one -- there have been many nights where he's the one lying on my bed pondering the universe and our purpose. Jenna is very down to earth and keeps her head in the present.

"It's just ... I've switched my major four times and I still feel like I'm not where I should be." Jenna has switched her major a lot. Visual art, then photography, then graphic design, then animation.

"What was your childhood dream job?" I ask, still combing my fingers through her hair.

"Tattoo artist," she replies.

"Well, then try that out," I suggest. I can't see her face, but I can visualize the expression on it. "I mean it! I remember you used to give me henna tattoos -- they were amazing! And I know that they're not quite the same, but you could definitely do it. Don't drop out and give up just yet, but I'm sure you can find a tattoo artist who would love to have you as an apprentice. 

"You may have different views than me, but I see it as you'll find where you're supposed to be when you get there, and that might not happen for a while. But I see the purpose of life as being happy and meaning something to someone.

"You make me happy. I can't count all the times I've smiled when I thought it was impossible purely because of you. You make Jacob happy. I knew him when he didn't know you, and I can see it in his eyes every single time he looks at you. You make your dads happy. The way they look at you and each other, proud to have raised such a beautiful human being. You make everyone you come across happy because you're a literal ball of sunshine. You --" I'm cut off by a choked sound. "J? Are you okay?" I ask worriedly. The next thing I know, there's a curly mess of red hair in my face and arms around my neck.

"Thank you ... so damn much Haze. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you," she sobs into my shoulder. I rub circles into her back and her tears stain my shirt, but that's okay because it's Jacob's and not actually mine.

After a couple minutes, I reach for her phone and play cat videos for us both to watch.

"I want a cat," she whines into my side after about the fourteenth video.

"Well. I'm okay with that, but is Jacob? I mean, it's gonna be his house as well as ours," I say.

"And Annabelle's," Jenna says, looking at me slyly and wiggling her eyebrows. I poke her in the nose.

"I certainly hope so," I sigh, somewhat wistfully. "Then all four of us can argue about the temperature in the house."

"That'd be nice," she says, snuggling into my side farther. Even though it's like eight P.M., she yawns and I do too, and before I know it she's asleep.

Even though she probably can't hear me, I whisper to her, "You'd make a great tattoo artist, J-babe," and kiss her on the top of the head. And then I follow suit and fall asleep next to her to Save Rock and Roll playing.

The following Friday, Jenna, Jacob and I head to a tattoo shop. When we walk out, Jenna's gotten an apprenticeship with a guy named Donnie, and lessons/practices on Sunday afternoons from one to four.

a/n: what a catch ;)

also i have a new hoodie so i feel v fabulous currently *awkward thumbs up*