Ink (being edited)

Chapter 4: He Doesn't Swing That Way

           

"Candii!" Seinfeld called to me from his seat in the tattoo parlor.

As soon as I left Ethan's impressive place, I went straight home, changed into work appropriate clothes and walked there. Even walking into the parlor, I was pissed at out encounter this morning. I didn't even have enough fucks to correct Seinfeld on my name.

"Damn, why you look like your cat died, came back to life, and then got runover by a bus?"

"Ethan." I grumbled, banging my head on the table.

"Do I have to fuck someone up?"

"No..." I sighed, "I did it already."

So, I proceeded to tell Seinfeld the story, and he proceeded to pull me in to a big bear hug because he's been trying to 'teach me the dramatic flair for so long' and I 'learned it all by myself.'

"You left him with a boner and a slap to the face?!" Jazzmine gaped, rushing over to us. Obviously, she had been eavesdropping. "he must've been in so much pain."

I nodded glumly and put my head down. I'm such a dork. How in the hell did I manage to fuck up so bad?

I mean I've always been impulsive. I don't think very much before I act on feelings. I just do shit. It's not that I want to hurt people, I just let my emotions overtake all rational thought.

"If it helps at all, it doesn't look like he cares too much, and the pain is getting relieved by someone else."

"What are you talking about?" I shot up looking from Jazz to Seinfeld.

"Just look out the window." Seinfeld snickered.

And just like that, my entire day went down the drain. There was Ethan, with some girl backed up against the window, sucking face the world didn't matter. I could feel my face pale and my jaw go slack. They looked so... comfortable. Like she had been there before.

My best friends tried to console me, but in that moment, all I could hear was the pounding of my heart and all I could see was red. I grabbed the broom from the side of the door frame and stormed outside. Before I could even talk myself down, I had already bashed them over the head three times.

"Ah, What the hell! Get that fucking broom away from me, you psychopath!" The girl screeched. God, her voice was like nails on a chalkboard and everything pink had a baby.

"Get. A. Room." I snarled, practically growling like an animal. It took all of me not to drop the broom and cut her to pieces with my nails. Ethan said nothing. He just stared at me with an unreadable face.

"it's a free country. If I want to make out with my boyfriend here I can."

"I'm not your boyfriend, Faye." Ethan snapped, and the cow fell silent.

"I don't give two flying fucks what you guys are. You just need to go suck face somewhere else, because customers are complaining about the view. Nobody came here to watch a cheap porno." I spat.

"Well nobody asked you to watch!" The bimbo shot back.

"You look like you belong on a stripper pole. By the looks of you, you have no self-respect at all and your hair looks like rat's nest. Little word of advice: Don't smoke weed early in the morning. The crust around your eyes is very unflattering."

"Did you just look in the mirror?"

That comment was all it took. I screamed and started taking steps toward her. The first person to rush to my side was Seinfeld. He grabbed my waist and pulled me into him, trapping me just in time. I was so ready to leap across the little space separating us and rip out her obvious extensions. I struggled against him for a little, but eventually fell slack because it was no use. Damn him and his cross fit.