"You're not gonna ask me if I'm sure I wanna do this?" I asked, my hand on the handle of the car as I looked at Carson.
He shook his head. "No. I know this is your choice and it's the way you wanna deal with things. I support you, not that you need my support."
I looked in the rearview mirror. My hair was everywhere, in a huge messy bun ontop of my head, dark circles under my sunken eyes and no make up whatso ever on my face. I was wearing a pair of nike pro shorts and a t shirt with the sleeves cut out, no sleep or food in 3 days and having not left Vivian's side until mom and Lanie made me take a shower and rest even if I didn't sleep.
Vivian's family was here but I still didn't leave and she didn't want me to. SHe needed me as much as I needed her.
Rick was going to arrive tomorrow at the airport at one, just intime for the viewing at two and funeral at four. Me and Carson were oicking him up and mom and gramma were taking Vivian to the hospital.
They, thankfully, agreed to put off the funeral until then.
Carson has only left my side for work, which I now know is FBI, where he's taken on Zach's case. I am beyond thankful for that. Zach's car was found and is being searched for evidence and then returned safely home.
Meanwhile, I am sitting in Carson's truck in the parking lot of the same tattoo shop me and Zach have always gone to, about to do something that I know is the best way for me to remember Zach.
I take a deep breat and step out of the truck, my nike roshes hitting the concrete.
When I walk through the door Greg, one of Zach's closest friends and the artist of all the ink both of us have, looks at me, giving me a sad half smile and a tight hug before looking me over.
"So you know what you want?" He asked, his voice quiet.
"The same think I texted you. nothing's changed." I said, shaking my head.
He shook his head, nodded a greeting at Carson and directing me toward sthe chair.
I sat down, taking a deep breath and smiling when I felt truly content with my decision.
I took off my top shirt, tucking the straps of my sports bra into the cups and leaned back so he could get a good angle.
Carson took my hand and Greg began cleaning my skin.
I was nervous, I was always nervous before a tattoo, but I tried to push the nervousness aside and concerntrate on Zach, tears forming in my eyes.
Greg put the stencil on and told me to go look in the mirror to check and see if it was what I wanted first.
I smiled as the doves mode their way over my shoulder and the name flowed under my collar bone.
I shook my head.
I leaned back and took a deep breath as Greg began the long process.
It hurt, but not as bad as loosing Zach did. I closed my eyes as I remembered standing next to his bed, holding his mom's hand as the doctor switched the machine off. I knew that even though his breathing continued for a few seconds, it was only reflex.
I remember the pain filling my emotions and my body.
I wanted Zach back so bad. My best friend was gone and I didn't know what to do.
I opened my eyes again, aware of the needle in my skin. I lookied up at Carson, who was sitting in the chair next to me, still holding my hand and watching Grag work.
