Body, Ink, and Soul

by Jude Ouvrard

  I stayed in bed a little longer, daydreaming about how our first kiss would go, I imagined it would be soft, gentle, and just absolutely perfect. I fantasized about telling him all the little things I thought about him - like how cute he was when he helped that little boy pick out a gift for his mother, and how his smile made my insides turn to jelly.

  I wanted to experience all of those small, everyday things with him. I wanted to walk down the street and hold his hand with pride. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, feel him touching me. I wanted to smell his cologne, and when I was away from him at night I wanted to be surrounded by his scent still. He was so attractive. My mind raced with excitement, I had to do it today. I couldn’t wait any longer, I wanted him to be mine.

  Three knocks resonated on the bedroom door.

  ''Nix, wake up,'' Bekka ordered. ''I'll give you a ride if you hurry.''

  ''I'm up, I'm up.'' Geez, I hated it when she acted like my mother.

  I rolled to the side of the bed and stretched my tired legs, yawning as I got up. I grabbed clean clothes from the dresser and shuffled to the bathroom. Some people need coffee in the morning - I needed a hot, steamy shower.

  The warm water ran down my skin, spreading goose bumps all over my body. I lathered the loofah and scrubbed myself clean with raspberry shower gel, and then ran a razor quickly down my legs to make my skin smooth. Maybe I was putting in just a little more effort than usual, but I was uncharacteristically nervous and wanted to make sure everything was perfect.

  Bekka and Val always told me I had nice legs – they were one of my best assets. Long and athletic, I knew how to use what my mama gave me. With that in mind, I carefully selected a black denim skirt which I was sure would make Tristan drool. I wasn't the type of girl who liked wearing skirts and heels - I was more of a tomboy than Bekka and Val, but every now and then I liked to make an exception. And trying to win Tristan’s heart was the best exception I could think of.

  Looking back at my reflection, there were a few things missing. Some foundation added a healthy glow to my skin, while soft pink gloss pumped up my lips; and I couldn't leave the house without my signature dark eyeliner and mascara which made my blue eyes stand out. My skirt was paired with the store’s t-shirt, which just happened to skim my curves, making me feel sexy in a way I never thought possible. I was as ready as I’d ever be, not to mention Bekka was already in the car waiting. I threw my bag across my shoulder, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.

  I sat in Bekka’s car as she searched for a song to play. I tried to prepare my ears for what was coming, but no amount of preparation could ready someone for Bekka’s musical tastes. When the music started, the car practically bounced down the road as Bekka always pushed the limits of the speakers. The music was blasting into my poor ears, giving me a headache immediately, but I knew better than to think about turning the volume down. Bekka was always crystal clear when it came to catching a ride in her car - her car, her music, her rules. That was the deal.

  Minutes later, she dropped me off at work and I could swear I heard my ears sigh with relief. I could still feel the vibration of Jeff Buckley’s voice on my eardrums, even after Bekka’s car was out of sight. I love him and his music, just not when the speakers are screaming the lyrics at me and causing pain for no reason.

  When I walked in to the store, I spotted Tristan instantly, as if my eyes were magnetically drawn to him. He was working in front of a rack of new releases, filling the slots with the accomplished dreams of so many talented individuals. My heart melted as I gazed at him; it didn’t matter if he was a superhero out saving the world or completing a task as simple as this—I could watch him forever. His blonde hair was styled à la James Dean, giving him a sexy appeal which was irresistible and he was humming a wordless tune – I couldn't recognize it, but I loved hearing him. His black pants were sitting low on his waist and his t-shirt was clinging tightly around his biceps, displaying his muscular build. I was certain he had abs to die for and I had to hold myself back from racing over, grabbing his shirt, and ripping it off his body to see if I was right. Instead, I passed him and said hi as casually as possible. He nodded and winked at me in return. I almost passed out.

  These actions were flirty and definitely not the way he greeted everyone. Maybe I was crazy, but the gesture caused my mind to race. No—I wasn’t crazy! This had to mean something!

  At least, I hoped it did. I took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, trying to calm the vigorous fluttering of butterflies in my stomach.

  I had to formulate a plan. I only had a five hour shift, and I needed to come up with a reasonable excuse to talk to him and about something other than formalities. I dropped my purse and hoodie in my locker and re-emerged onto the store floor. I still had fifteen minutes before the store opened its doors for the day. There were always people waiting outside to get in and I had to figure out something fast, before the customers became witnesses to my attempts to ask Tristan out.

  ''Nice skirt, Phoenix,'' Tristan said, as I walked out of the storeroom.

  I blushed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, undoubtedly turning my face as red as a tomato. It was crazy what a simple sentence from him could do to me. Maybe I was over-reacting just a bit.

  ''Thanks.'' I mumbled, silently berating myself for such a monosyllabic response. I felt like an idiot. This was my opportunity to talk to him and I was blowing it.

  Do it, Nix, I silently prodded myself.

  ''Hey, I was wondering. Are you free tonight or tomorrow? We could hang out,'' I blurted out, trying to force myself to look at Tristan, and not stare at the floor.

  ''Hang out?'' He frowned.

  ''Yeah. Only if you want to - no pressure.'' I was silently begging him to say yes. He ran one of his hands through his hair, seeming as if he were deciding what to do. He appeared to be hesitating, as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Maybe he was trying to remember his schedule – I wasn’t sure if that was it, but I was dying to know his answer. The frown on his forehead had me believing it wasn't going to be a positive answer. The butterflies in my stomach erupted into panic mode.

  ''Yeah, um, sure, after work. We could grab something to eat,'' he finally answered, raising his eyes to meet mine. I tried to play it cool, but I had no doubt my giddiness was written all over my face.

  ''Sure. That sounds great,'' I responded, with a smile the size of Russia on my face. He said yes! My face actually started to ache from the smile, it was so wide. ''I’ll meet you in the storeroom at 5pm?''

  ''I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Tristan smiled and, with another heart racing wink, moved to the front of the store. He paused and turned back to face me. ''Later, beautiful,'' he said, with a smile to match mine gracing his handsome face.

  My heart was pounding in my chest. Had he really said that, or did I make it all up? If it was, in fact, my overactive imagination, I would still take it.

  Needless to say, it was the longest afternoon of my life! I kept scanning the store for Tristan, searching for him in the sea of customers jamming every corner of the store. We made eye contact a few times, he had an uncanny ability of finding my eyes amongst the throngs of people. As he adjusted his name tag, I reminded myself I had to be careful about how much I focused on him - I was at work after all. There was a very strict policy about dating or flirting with co-workers or customers, which had been ingrained in our heads since orientation. Our boss had lost one too many employees from this very thing, and he had since installed a no nonsense policy about the very thing I was engaging in. Not that I really cared – I definitely needed Tristan more than I needed this job. The club paid a lot more and it was by far the more pleasant place to work.

  My shift finally ended, after a day which had felt endless. Waiting for Tristan in the storeroom, I nervously sorted through the contents of my purse, looking for the lip gloss I’d dropped in there before leaving the house. The glowing light on my phone caught my attention, informing me I’d missed tw
o calls from the club and one voicemail. I had a bad feeling about this.

  I listened to the message and my heart sank. My manager, Tyler, had called twice to let me know I was needed at work tonight. I glanced at my watch in desperation, I couldn't cancel my date, I'd dreamed about it for so long. We still had time for dinner, but it couldn't extend beyond that. I was disappointed I would have to put a time limit on my night with Tristan, but any time was better than none.

  ''Ready?'' he asked, his abrupt appearance taking me by surprise.

  Lost in thought, I tried to hide the disappointment I felt. ''Yeah, but I just found out I have to work tonight. I’ll still have time for dinner, but unfortunately I’ll need to head out after that. Is that okay?''

  Please say it’s okay! Please say it’s okay!

  ''Not a problem. We’ll just have to do something else another time, so you can make it up to me.'' He winked.

  ''Sure, I'd love to.'' The permanent smile on my face was making my cheeks flush with color. It was almost embarrassing how giddy I was. Almost. I tried not to stare at him, but I just couldn’t stop myself. My heart was beating so fast, I thought I was going to have a panic attack.

  Sure, I’d daydreamed many times about being in his car. But I never actually thought I would sit in it one day – it seemed like a fantasy. But here I was, perched in the shiny black BMW. The seats were covered with some of the smoothest black leather in existence and the music playing added soothing sounds in the background. I’d always wondered why he was working at the music store, if he could afford a car like this at twenty one. We probably made the same hourly rate and there was no way I would be able to pay for this car on the wages I got from the music store.

  We went to a Lebanese restaurant and the food was delicious. Candles were lit on each table and slow Arabic music was playing in the background, making the ambiance of the place even more romantic. Despite the beautiful setting, and the gorgeous man, I was a bundle of nervous energy. I was edgy at first - I had been dreaming about this moment for months. Apparently my skittishness was quite obvious. Reaching across the table, Tristan took my shaking hands in his and kissed my knuckles. He looked at me through his eyelashes and said, ''Don’t be nervous, beautiful. We’re going to do this again. Get used to it.'' My heart melted and my insides turned to goo. In that instant, my feelings for him tripled.

  The waiters brought our dishes to the table, filled with delicious food. My nerves died down as the evening progressed, while we talked, laughed, and ate far too much. Toward the end of our meal, a beautiful young woman approached our table, performing a stunning belly dance routine. She was wearing a bra which accentuated her breasts and a burgundy skirt with a deep purple, pearl-like fringe. We were amazed by the rhythmic movement of her hips, she made it seem so easy. Tristan’s eyes were glued on her, with a mix of both desire and curiosity. At first, his ogling her made my blood boil, but then I figured she was not only stunning, but she was amazingly limber. I was sure Tristan wasn’t the only man in the restaurant who was mesmerized by her. The performance lasted for twenty minutes and I was blown away by her talent and raw sensuality.

  She received a multitude of compliments—Tristan even gave her a tip—and once she was gone, I sat back in my chair and tried to appreciate the moment. It was my first date in quite some time and I thought it was going very well. Better than I’d ever imagined, really. Some girls sitting at other tables stared at Tristan during our meal, with envy in their eyes and I felt lucky to be the one sitting with him. A smile crossed my face when I recalled his promise to ‘do this again’.

  ''So, I heard you also work in a club?''

  ''Yeah, I'm a waitress at Black Shakers. Have you ever been there?'' I asked curiously. I wondered what he thought of the club, although I didn’t think it would be his type of place.

  ''No, I've never been there, but maybe I'll stop by.''

  Yeah, that would be great. It would be fun to have you come visit when I’m working.''

  After paying the tab and leading me out of the restaurant, Tristan dropped me off at the club. We had talked about my job at the club earlier in the evening.

  Disappointment swept over me when we arrived. I wished we could’ve gone to a movie or something – I didn’t want this magical night to end. He kissed my cheek sweetly when we said goodbye and I couldn’t get over how perfect he was turning out to be.

  I arrived at work in less than amazing spirits. My mind kept going back to the past few hours and all I could think about was his grin, and the sound of his laughter. I had it bad for him; he was definitely my type of guy. Trying to keep my mind busy, I hurried to get my station ready, but I was tired from the excitement of the day and really didn't feel like working.

  ''Hey, Nix! Ready for tonight?'' Tyler asked. He was the owner of Black Shakers and he was always around the place somewhere. He wasn't much older than me – I didn’t think he couldn’t be more than thirty.

  ''Almost ready,'' I yawned.

  ''It’s supposed to be a big night. All the students are done with school and they want to party! Which is why I asked you to come in. If anyone can handle the crazy crowd and give them a show it is my Terrific Trio.” He winked. “Enjoy the night.''

  ''Sure, we will.''

  Val and Bekka had already arrived and were busy preparing their stations. We started working here not even a month ago, and Tyler had fired most of his other staff to keep us together. He said we were ‘magical’ and brought something different to the club. To be honest, I didn't really want to know what he meant by ‘different’. We were very comfortable together and we were able to cheer the customers up and bring a good vibe to the bar. Maybe it was our enthusiasm.

  Bekka had it bad for Tyler and I’m pretty sure we all knew it, including him. She had a thing for bad boys and Tyler definitely had the look and the attitude down - no doubt about it. Every night he wore a black t-shirt with dark blue jeans, and I’ve never seen him without his signature black Doc Martens. He had dark brown hair and grey eyes and the man was certainly good looking. His looks alone were enough reason to have women flocking to the club.

  Tyler didn’t care about the barflies, he only had eyes for Bekka, never letting her out of his sight. He protected her from the drunken idiots who overstepped their boundaries and I wished she could recognize his attraction to her. It was clear to everyone - he liked her as much as she liked him. The female patrons in the club were always trying to flirt with him, but he seemed bored out of his mind with their pathetic attempts to capture his attention. Bekka could be so blind sometimes, I was starting to think that I was going to have to intervene. The club was perpetually darkened, all the walls painted in black, with only the wall behind the bar painted red. The dance floor took up half of the space, even though the majority of the customers were always sitting at tables.

  At one point in the evening, I noticed Tyler talking to a guy I hadn’t seen before. The two were ecstatic to see one another, greeting each other with the universally recognized man hug and laughing together. Tyler looked surprised to see the other guy, but by the familiarity between them – they must have been old friends. I’d never met one of Tyler’s friends outside of the bar group and it was refreshing to see him with someone new.

  ''BODY SHOT!'' I turned around to glance at Val’s area, from where the sound of a bunch of guys shouting made me roll my eyes. Most of them were already drunk and would remember none of this in the morning.

  Val was standing on the bar with a bottle of Tequila and the guys were all at her feet. Val knew how to flutter her eyelashes and get the attention of the drunkards, but it was all an act to bring home more tips. Val was madly in love with her high school sweetheart, and despite their long distance relationship—John was worth it.

  He was away at the University for summer school, taking extra classes to get more credits. Val had requested a transfer to Boston to be with him, but was still waiting for an answer. Val was convinced she wasn’t going to get the transfer b
ut I had a feeling conviction had more to do with her fear of being turned down than any academic concerns. Seeing John only on rare occasions was starting to take its toll on her, and I didn’t know if she could handle not getting into the school in Boston.

  Despite her commitment to John, Val did like being the centre of attention - she loved having men in the palm of her hand and these desperate guys gave it to her. She was a beautiful blonde girl, with perfect sleek hair and pale green eyes. She had the body shape of Britney Spears, back in her ‘Slave’ days. Quite frankly, she drove the male customers wild.

  The entire mass of guys sitting around my station flocked to Val’s, giving me some time to clean up. I looked up to find only one left, and he was watching me intently. It was the same guy Ty had greeted so enthusiastically earlier.

  ''Can I get you anything?'' I asked, taking empty glasses off the counter.

  ''A smile. Give me one and I guarantee you’ll get the biggest tip tonight.'' The slow seductive tone rolling from his shapely lips told me he wasn’t just fooling around. His green eyes stared at me like I was dessert. This guy was hot and he knew it. He was looking me up and down, biting on his lips. He was clearly not afraid to show me how much he liked what he saw. Me. His confidence and determination were fierce. The way his tousled light brown hair went every which way, hanging down across his forehead, told me right away he didn’t care about his looks. He didn’t have to.

  He wanted a smile? I shook my head. ''You don’t want a drink? Just water, maybe?''

  ''No, just a smile. You're the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and it's just a smile I want.'' He brushed his hand through his hair, making it even more tousled.

  I knew I was blushing and bit my lip in embarrassment. His eyes refused to stray from mine, pinning me in place. I smiled, but not because he’d asked. No, this smile was solely because this random man had pulled it out of me. I saw the humour in his eyes as he slid fifty bucks out of his pocket and onto the counter. ''Thank you, Princess. You just made my night.''