I'll Be Holding on to You

oops

Her room was blue and green and like floating in the ocean. We cuddled under the blankets and it was wonderful.

"I'm so glad you came over," she said. It was dark out but she turned on a little blue lamp.

"Me, too." I examined the tattoos I hadn't seen yet, or been able to check out closely. Tiny quotes abounded as on the rest of her.

The trouble is, you think you have time was written in script in a circle, in purple ink, the size of my palm. It hit me hard, the raw truth of it.

Under her right breast, a pink bird was filled with letters: now, i grow wings and rage. i learn how to kill

The entire outline of an exquisite mermaid on her back was composed of small print: make your story so beautiful, mermaids have trouble believing it's true

At the bottom of her back, on the right side, was a black ink sketch of a girl who is sprawled out flat but pushing herself up. Underneath in the same color it was written the one who falls and gets up is so much stronger than the one who never fell

"Gage did all these?" I asked, tracing a book with my finger. It had a numbered list on the cover which read: 1) be kind 2) make art 3) read good books 4) take no shit  All four of them had a check mark next to them.

"He did. I was his practice board. Some of these are newer ones over his less, um, shall we say brilliant early attempts." She was good natured about it. It was strange to think of them being that intimate, even if it didn't involve sex.

"He really just . . . he's amazing," I said. "You're both so talented. I couldn't handle that imbarimba shit today. Seriously. My soul will never be the same. If you had one of those you could just get anyone to do whatever you wanted all the time."

She smiled. "It already worked." Inside a blue, smiling demon were the words We are all searching for someone whose demons play well with ours. "And yes, Gage is quite an artist," she agreed.

"The quotes, though; you chose all those, I would imagine?" I was tired. I checked my phone and it was almost eight. I didn't want to go yet, though. "Must be nice to have them all at hand. I just have a Pinterest board for my favorites," I half mocked myself. 

"I'd like to see that board actually." She smiled. "All quotes I picked, but he helped me think of the perfect pictures to go with them."

"You must have a high pain threshold," I said in admiration. My Hadley tattoo had hurt plenty.

She laughed, trailing her fingers on my collarbone where the bullet had entered. "Says the girl who got shot."

"Hey, but that fucking hurt," I said with feeling. It had been excruciating. "After the painkillers they gave me in the hospital wore off, anyway."

"I still can't believe that happened. Pretty fucked to shoot a kid." She put her arm around me so I lay next to her.

"Yeah. He was mentally just totally wrong." I yawned. Must not fall asleep. "He'd already killed our teacher, and Cam's mom. I guess he was trying to get Cam, too. But we were all, like, in a group, like we could hide him or something, right. I was in the way." I didn't know what it was about her that made me want to share horrible things but something did. "Sorry, not to be a downer."

"No, not at all, I'm honored you feel like you can tell me these things." She yawned again. "Sorry, I got up at six. Ridiculous hour. Whenever you're ready, I'll walk you out. Even though I hate to see you go. You're welcome to stay."

I wasn't ready to do that. I wanted my bed, and Freak, and even not-Benji Bowser. "Maybe next time."

"Next time, huh?"