Holding a Hero

by Layne, Lyssa

  ''Phoenix or Nix would be fine," I said, as I wiped down the bar. I was trying to keep this exchange as professional as possible.

  ''I'm Levi.''

  ''If I was polite, I would say nice to meet you. However, I’m not convinced that knowing you is a good thing,'' I replied. I sounded like a real bitch. What was wrong with me?

  ''Wow. What have I ever done to you?'' The look on his face told me I’d hurt him, but he was right - he hadn't done anything to me. I just didn't know how to deal with the attention he was giving me, or the attraction I felt toward him. Around him, my insides turned into fire, my brain was unable to think and my heart was begging for more. The way he looked at me, mixed with the smile and the tattoos – the combination was more than I could process. I could feel the attraction; I could barely control my pulse or my eyes when he was around. He was like a vortex and I was trying to avoid getting sucked in.

  ''I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have said that," I managed, throwing the towel behind the bar. I took a nervous breath and raised my eyes to meet his. I decided to just go the honest route. “I get very nervous around you, I don’t know why, but I really should get back to work now.''

  He didn't say a word, but he stayed there - sitting by the bar all night looking sexy as hell while he drank his beer from the bottle. The way he rocked his head to every song he liked and sang the lyrics loud enough for me to hear, made me realise that behind the tattoos was a simple guy who appreciated a night at the club. He smiled each time I did a little performance with Bekka and Val. It was evident that he enjoyed watching us, which only made my nerves worse. We had learned a few tricks from Tyler, one being where we would throw bottles in the air and catch them while preparing a round of shots. We were all synchronized and the guys in the club loved it. Levi seemed to love it, too. He laughed and applauded. I liked watching him laugh. There was something about his smile - it was both pure and honest. I hated to admit it, but my night was better because of him.

  Bekka drove us home after our shift, her music screaming in our ears, regardless of the fact that it was almost four in the morning. I checked my phone, trying to ignore the music, and I had a text message from Tristan. He was wishing me a good night. Sweet! I texted him back, wishing him a good night, too. I couldn't wait to get home and go to bed. The bar had been packed, and coupled with Levi’s watchful eye, I was exhausted. When I finally got into bed, I checked my phone again, but of course, there was nothing. I had to remind myself that it was the middle of the night.

  I rested in bed, replaying the events of the night. I liked Tristan coming to see me at work. He didn't stay for long, but it was nice of him to show up. It confirmed he was interested and he was thinking about me. Maybe he missed me when I wasn’t around, who knew? I wasn’t sure what to expect from dating, because I’d never had a real boyfriend before. I dated two guys in high school, but with my over-protective mother, it wasn't easy. When she was nineteen, she fell pregnant with me. She made it really difficult to have a relationship – always suspecting the worse and trying to protect me from making her mistakes. I couldn’t blame her, though – it wasn’t easy for her to cope when she discovered she was pregnant. As soon as my biological father found out, he bailed and she never heard from him again. I always knew Carlson was not my biological father, but I considered him my real Dad. He chose to love me and my mother – which means more to me than genetics any day. Carlson offered us everything he had; he was a wealthy businessman and he spoiled us both. I’ve only seen two photos of my biological father, and I looked a lot like him. We shared the same curly, chestnut hair and baby blue eyes. He had an anchor tattoo on his forearm and one big Phoenix on his back. He was a good-looking young man. I sometimes wondered where he was and if he was still alive. I knew his name was Brian, but I’ve never looked him up because the idea scared me for some reason.

  Working at the club was my favourite job, but the hours made it hard to get enough sleep. After spending a few days with very little rest, I was exhausted. My body ached and my brain was degenerating into Jell-O. I had to catch up or I was going to get sick.

  ''PHOENIX! REBEKKA! GIRLS! WAKE UP!''

  I woke up from a fitful sleep when I heard Valerie screaming from the kitchen. What the hell was going on? I threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, silently cursing her and grumbling that this better not be over another spider. I’d had a little over four hours of sleep, I was in a pissy mood, and I didn't want to be bothered for a damn arachnid.

  ''Girls, come on! Wake up!''

  I opened my door at the same time as Bekka did and we ran down the hallway together.

  ''What’s wrong?'' Bekka questioned, her voice sounding as sleepy as I felt.

  ''Nothing's wrong! I received a letter from the University.''

  ''So, what does it say?'' I muttered, not entertained by being woken up because of a letter.

  ''I don't know! I didn't open it yet. I wanted to do it with both of you.'' She took the envelope and ripped across the seal. Taking the letter out and unfolding it, she took a deep breath and started reading.

  ''Dear Ms. Johnson, Congratulations! Welcome to the Economics Program at the University of Boston," she read, her eyes growing wide. “Oh! My! God! I got accepted!''

  We all jumped around the apartment like little girls, squealing and hugging. We were happy for Val - she was finally going to be with John. As we settled down, the realization that she would be leaving hit us all at the same time.

  ''You’re leaving...'' A lump built in my throat. I was happy for Val, but the sadness of knowing she was leaving overshadowed my joy. I tried to keep it hidden with a tiny smile, but I wouldn't fool them. Val and Bekka were the family I’d chosen for myself, and losing one of them was hard. I knew we would keep in touch, but she was moving to the other side of the country. It just wouldn’t be the same.

  Val and Bekka were in a tight hug with tears of both joy and sadness running down their cheeks. I joined them in a group hug and kissed their hair. They were everything to me, and I was afraid letting go of Val was going to break us apart.

  ''I'm so happy for you, Val. It's going to be a whole new life for you over there.''

  ''Aww, Nix. I know how you feel right now. It's okay! You know I'll never forget my girls and I'll visit you as much as I can. You can visit me too, anytime. It’ll be great! I love you so much - both of you,'' Val said, her eyes going from me to Bekka.

  We sat there for a long time, tears rolling down our cheeks. I knew I was being selfish, I should be happy for Val and extremely proud of her for having the courage to move so far away from home, but I would miss her like crazy and the thought was overwhelming.

  Even though, I was still exhausted, I couldn't go back to bed. My emotions were all over the place and I knew I’d never get back to sleep now. I’d just lay in bed staring at the ceiling and crying. In hopes of improving our mood and get a good start on the day, Bekka announced she was going to cook breakfast. She made banana pancakes and eggs— our mutually favorite breakfast treat.

  ''When are you leaving?'' Bekka asked the question which was foremost in my mind.

  ''Humm... yeah, about that... I was thinking maybe tomorrow or the next day.''

  ''Why so fast?'' Bekka demanded.

  ''Well, John’s birthday is Friday and I’d love to surprise him. Besides, I’d like to find a job before school starts and I want to get to know the surroundings better before I jump in.''

  ''Of course,'' Bekka seemed in more control of her emotions than I was, so far, I hadn’t been able to find my voice. It was all happening too fast too soon, and I wished we would have more time together before Val left.

  ''I'm so sorry, girls. I never thought it would happen. If I’d known, I would never have moved in with you. I know I'm leaving you here in the lurch and you’ll have to find a new roommate quickly. I feel terrible about this.'' She looked pained, the situation making her feel bad.

  ''Don't worry about the roommate situation. I’ll take care of
it,'' Bekka reassured her.

  Thank God for Bekka - I would never be able to deal with picking the right roommate. I didn't trust people easily and would end up rejecting every person who applied. Nobody would be as perfect as Val, but Bekka would do a better job of finding someone. This whole situation seemed surreal, I just couldn't believe Val wouldn't be living with us anymore.

  While Bekka got breakfast ready, I grabbed my guitar and started strumming a soft melody I’d written. Music was my favorite past time, guitar or piano - I could play both. Val would sit next to me for hours as I composed songs, watching intently and asking questions, or humming along.

  ''Can you sing, please?'' Val loved it when I sang. I didn't mind singing for them, but I’d never do it in front of anyone else. I was way too shy and knew I would probably forget all the words.

  ''Sure. I’ll probably sound a bit rusty but if my bullfrog impression won't hurt your hangovers, I'll give it try,'' I apologized in advance. I started another song, something I’d written about my friends a few months ago.

  ‘Every secret and every regret I have, you know

  Because with you, I can let it go

  We aren't bound by blood

  But we share something so much more’

  Bekka dished the pile of pancakes onto a plate and placed them on the table with the scrambled eggs. The food was ready, but by the look on their faces, I knew better than to stop playing.

  ‘When you are happy, I am

  And when you are sad, I'm here

  We will always be friends, wherever you are

  This is not just me, this is us, and you are my family’

  Tears were rolling down Val’s cheeks, she was so touched by the lyrics of the song. Bekka handed her a tissue to wipe away her sadness. Val was always the emotional one, the type who cries while watching a romantic comedy, or even during commercials. I didn't want to make her cry this morning, but when she asked me to play a song - this was the best song I could think of.

  ‘When I am happy, you are

  And when I am sad, you are there

  I can't imagine my life without you

  I am what I am today

  Because of you’

  I smiled as I sang the last words. It was one of our last mornings together, and I wanted it to be special and fun. I didn't want tears and sorrow to mar our last few days together.

  ''Don't cry, Val, please,'' I begged.

  ''You have no idea how beautiful your voice is. You could sing about dog food and I’d still cry, because everything you do is beautiful,'' Val laughed, wiping away the last of her tears.

  ''She's right, Nix. You could make a CD and sell millions of albums. Your voice is so full of emotion and you can do both high notes and lows. There's something magical about your voice. You really should try to get a recording deal.'' Bekka was always the dreamer - she was really good when it came to dreaming big.

  ''Thank you for the compliments, but I’m fine with my life the way it is. I don't want to be a star and deal with complications it would bring. I just want to be me and have a normal, everyday life.''

  I was flattered that they thought I could sing at a professional level, but I definitely didn't want it. Having an agent ordering me around, travelling all the time, and the crazy lifestyle definitely wasn’t my idea of fun. I changed the subject. ''Ok girls, I’m starving. Let’s eat."

  I put two pancakes onto my plate and drizzled maple syrup over the top, and decided after a mouthful, it was heaven on Earth. The best thing about Bekka’s scrambled eggs were the shallots she added - so simple, yet so incredibly delicious. Our mood improved as we ate. We laughed and gossiped about the things we’d witnessed at the club. There were the regular customers - the same guys we saw almost every night, and then there were the new people, on their first visit. We could spot them as soon as they stepped in, uncertain about where to sit, or where to buy a drink. They were the ones who usually got drunk before the end of the night. Everyone just seemed to be looking for a place to have fun, and the club provided for their needs.

  In the afternoon, we helped Val pack her belongings. We stuffed everything into her large suitcase - clothes, shoes and the huge amount of perfumes she’d collected. There was no doubt she would be paying extra fees for overweight luggage. We could barely lift the suitcase when it was packed. The empty walls in her room and the barren wardrobe were the final proof that she really was leaving. The space, which had looked so feminine this morning was now reduced to an impersonal bedroom with bare white walls. I silently warned myself to stop over-analyzing everything, firmly reminding myself I was going to see her again and besides, I should be making the best of what time we had together before she left.

  ''Girls, I’ve got a crazy idea! I don't know if you’ll be in for it, but I have to ask,'' Bekka exclaimed, obviously thrilled with her plan. Knowing some of Bekka’s ‘crazy ideas’ from the past, I wasn’t sure I was going to like it. ''What about a tattoo? It’ll be a friendship pact, among the three of us. Something which will unite us forever.''

  Excitement rolled off Bekka in waves. Val was enthusiastic about the idea, but I wasn't convinced. I hated to be the party pooper though, so I cautiously agreed. ''Something small and it has to be somewhere I’ll be able to hide it.'' I was trying to be a grownup, but all I could think about was Mom’s reaction if she ever found out about this little adventure.

  ''So, what will we get? A heart? A star? What about a flower?'' Val was bouncing around the room, totally ready to do this.

  ''I think I’d be willing to go with a star on my hip,'' I suggested.

  ''Ok. So, we go for a star, what color?''

  ''Pink!'' Bekka shouted. ''We all love pink. I think it would suit all of us.''

  ''Deal!'' Val agreed.

  And before I knew it, we had a deal, one which made me extremely stressed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  We all jumped in Bekka’s car and drove to the most renowned tattoo parlor we’d heard about. The tattoo had to be done right away. With Val leaving the next morning we didn’t have long to get it organized. None of us had any idea what we were doing, and all I knew was the tattoo parlor needed to be clean and we needed to confirm they always used fresh needles. It obviously wasn’t the type of place where you would find diplomas framed on the walls, but we were looking for professional tattoo artists, not doctors. Universities didn’t offer this kind of art class and I saw a program on TV which said tattoo artists learned their trade by practicing on orange skins. Not the most informative source of information to go on, but it was all we had. I could only hope we chose a reputable one, who wouldn’t make a disaster out of this crazy idea.

  Ink Me Tattoo Studio had a nicely decorated front window and it looked clean. It was also conveniently open. Their banner was eye catching, with a purple and black background and pink neon writing. Bekka parked the car and we walked quickly to the studio. My hands were already trembling and my anxiety levels were rising rapidly.

  A tall guy welcomed us into the store. He had tattoos all over his arms and even some covering his neck. His ear lobes were stretched to the size of a beer cap, which I was pretty certain must have hurt. I wasn't sure if I liked so many tattoos on a person, but they were pretty amazing. The intricacy and depth of the designs made them breathtaking.

  While I stared at him, Val explained what we wanted. He chuckled and offered his services with a warm smile. While we watched, he drew a little star on a sheet of paper and asked if it was what we were after. The design was small and perfect - exactly what we were looking for. He added some kind of sparkling effects to it, which made it special – really made it ‘us’.

  My anxiety started to rise again. I wasn't afraid of regretting it – I wanted to share this special tattoo with my two best friends. But I was scared of the pain I knew was coming.

  Val volunteered to go first, having decided to get her tattoo on her ankle. She sat on the black leather chair and placed her leg as the tattooist instructed. I w
atched as he carefully shaved and cleaned the small area on her ankle, prepping it for the ink.

  He placed the stencil on her ankle and once it was transferred onto her skin, he asked if she was happy with the placement. Val nodded, so excited that she kept bouncing around in the chair. The tattoo artist had to remind her to stop moving before he began to work, warning her he couldn’t tattoo on a moving subject.

  My hands were trembling and my spine was so stiff, it seemed like a rod was rammed through it. I was scared shitless. I knew Mom would kill me if she ever found out - this was everything she warned me to stay away from. Despite my misgivings, I wanted to do it because the meaning behind it meant so much to me. My two friends were everything to me and the tattoo was tiny, so I had nothing to worry about, right?

  The tattoo guy was being very gentle with Val, so I wasn't worried about him. It was the unexpected I was afraid of, while I knew there would be pain involved, I didn't know how much I was going to suffer. Val had winced a little at the beginning, but now she seemed perfectly fine. I took a deep breath and told myself to chill out. It seemed to work, as I was finally able to breathe normally again. While I was sitting in the waiting area, with an album of tattoos on my lap, I realized the tattoo guy’s name was on the cover, so I was pretty sure they were all his designs. He was quite talented, with a wide range of creations. Our simple little star, in all likelihood, was boring him out of his mind. He apparently did much more complex designs on a daily basis. He was done with Val in less than twenty minutes and he wrapped her ankle in a bandage, telling her the rules she had to follow to care for her tattoo.

  Bekka took the seat next, leaving me to go last. She wanted it on the front of her shoulder, thinking it would look sexy when she wore a tank top. I guessed she was right - she knew her thing, although I had my doubts about having a tattoo in such a visible position.