by Jane Charles
She just might be the most unpleasant person on the planet.
“Me again.” I beam at her just to be irritating. I’m feeling good today, and that bitch isn’t going to bring me down.
Mary pours another cup and hands it to me.
“Where’s Kelsey?” she asks Mary.
“Went out for a minute,” she answers.
“So, why the hell are you still here?” Shelby directs her question to me.
“You never left me the rules. I thought I’d wait for them.”
This time she rolls her eyes and grabs a coffee mug.
Is Shelby just unpleasant or does she really hate me?
The door opens a minute later and Kelsey steps in carrying a bag from a local diner. “Morning.”
“Where did you go?”
“You’ve fed me enough, I thought it was time to feed you.”
“Dylan’s fed you,” I correct.
“He cooks too?” Mary asks with excitement. “He’s nearly too good to be true. There’s got to be something wrong with that guy. Why hasn’t he been snapped up already?” A sly smile forms on her pink lips. “Next time you visit, Alex. Feel free to bring him along.”
I just laugh.
Shelby glares at me and Kelsey. “You have a room.” She points to the open door behind us.
“Geez, Shelby, get the stick out of your ass,” Mary snaps.
“Rules,” is her only retort as Kelsey and I go back into the room and shut the door.
“We need to start hanging at my place. It’s certainly friendlier, even if there are guys everywhere.”
“The rules aren’t so bad.” Kelsey shrugs as she sets on the bed. “Of course, they didn’t seem so bad before I met you.”
“What are they exactly?”
“No guys hanging in the common area. We are to keep them in our room, only allowing them to leave and come through the front door. No lingering.”
“Like a well-trained pet.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure that’s how Shelby thinks of her guys.”
“Guys?”
“Her relationships usually last a month at the most.”
“Spider and carcasses?”
Kelsey snorts as she takes bagels out of the bag. “I see you’ve been talking to Mary.”
My phone rings and I grab it from my pocket. It’s only ten in the morning. Who the hell is calling me? I check the number. “It’s work.”
Kelsey spreads cream cheese on her bagel as I answer the phone.
“Alex, you are going to need to increase your hours,” is the first thing Peggy says. She’s our receptionist, bookkeeper, all the clerical, management and part owner of Skin Scribes.
“Why?”
“The answering machine was full this morning. Instead of just wanting an appointment with whoever is here, they are all asking for you.”
“Me?” That’s odd. I mean, I have some repeat customers. They liked my work and came back to me instead of one of the other artists, but I don’t have enough customers that I need to increase my hours.
“What the hell did you expect after auditioning for the Reeds?”
“I expected people to do what they always do. Go to the Reeds.”
“Well, you made an impression on a bunch of people with your appearance, and they want appointments with you.”
“So, schedule them.”
“Oh no. I’ve already got you filled for the next two weeks and more are waiting. It’s bad enough I have to juggle Caleb and Pete. Now, get your ass in here and go through your schedule. I can’t be on the phone all day for you.”
I blow out a sigh. “I’ll be in shortly.”
“Problem?” Kelsey asks as I hang up.
“Apparently there are a bunch of people that want me to do their ink.” Is Peggy just being dramatic? But, Peggy is matter of fact. She never exaggerates. “Want to go in with me and see what’s going on? I need to help her with my schedule.”
Kelsey grins. “Sure. I’d love to see where you work.”
I polish off the bagel and drink my coffee as Kelsey hops in the shower. Peggy has got to be exaggerating. One clip on a popular show is not going to bring in that many new customers. And the full segment certainly shouldn’t since I came off as a fucking dick. At least at the beginning.
Maybe it’s not that bad. Peggy was already complaining about Caleb and Pete and their constant customers. My new customers are probably nothing compared to theirs, but just enough to tip the scales that Peggy’s had enough.
Skin Scribes is packed with people and Alex stops, looking in the front window. “Holy crap.”
“What?”
“It’s never like this. I mean, it’s gotten busy at times, but never with this many people waiting.”
“Your boss should be happy.”
“Martha owns the place with Peggy,” Alex explains. “The artists rent a space to work. I pay rent and give them a cut of all the work they send my way from walk-ins who don’t care who does their tat.”
A few girls were waiting just inside to see Alex. One points and says something to the other that I can’t hear. They are grinning and practically jumping, like fan girls waiting to meet a star. Had the segment catapulted Alex to this?
“I’m used to this when Caleb and Pete are in the house. Not me.”
“Caleb and Pete?”
“They are trying to build a wide enough client base to go out on their own, but the competition is tough in New York, so they’ve been posting videos on their joint website and some of those have gone viral. And, it’s been working because they could work 24/7 and still not stay on top of everyone that wants them to do their tats.”
I just nod. “So, are you going to go in?”
He sighs. “I guess I should.”
I’m not certain what I expected, but it wasn’t the smell of cookies baking when I stepped into the shop. And, fresh coffee too.
I wonder if the grandmotherly woman at the front counter, more of a desk, is responsible. Plump, lined face, kind green eyes. She looks like she should be in a rocking chair knitting, not sitting at a counter in a tattoo parlor.
“Hey, Peggy,” Alex calls over.
“It’s about time you got your ass in here.”
She may look like a grandma fresh from the country, but her tone and language isn’t like any grandmother I’ve encountered.
The phone rings again and she grabs it, answering as pleasant as she can, then puts the caller on hold. “For you!”
“Can you take a number? I’ll call everyone back.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
A minute ago she was barking at him for not getting his ass in there quick enough. Now she’s talking to Alex like he’s a favorite grandson.
She writes a message out then hands it to Alex with a book and a stack of messages.
He just looks down at them. “Are you sure these are all for me?”
“Sure are, babe. You’re the latest eye candy at Skin Scribes.”
I can’t help but burst out laughing as Alex’s face turns red.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he mumbles. “Caleb and Pete have been very careful about protecting that title for themselves.”
“Don’t be so humble. I know you’ve got a mirror.”
His face gets even redder.
“Humble?” I choke out. He may not be as cocky as he once was, but humble?
“She didn’t ask for your opinion,” he says before winking at me. “Let’s go to the back so I can go through these.”
As we pass what I guess is a waiting area, I hear both of our names being whispered and said.
“They are together?”
“Are they dating now?”
“Tat must have worked.”
“That opening wasn’t fake, was it? I thought she hated him.”
I can’t help it and turn back to them. “Not fake. I did loathe him.”
Alex grabs my hand. “But she doesn’t anymore.” Then he drags me through
a curtained doorway.
I don’t know what I expected, but not a full kitchen and another grandmotherly woman wearing an apron taking cookies from the oven. Two trays are cooling on the counter, and my mouth waters.
“Alex,” she cries. “I’m so happy for your success, darling.” She comes forward and gives him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. Then stands back and grabs both of our hands. “You poor kids.” Tears fill her eyes. “My and Peggy’s hearts were just breaking last night for the two of you.”
Mary’s reaction surprised me last night and now this. It’s something I’ve lived with, my loss, and something I kept to myself. The sympathy is unexpected, and welcoming. Maybe I should have opened up earlier or to others. But what happened to Brandy and Brandon is so damn personal.
“Now you two just sit right down and have some cookies and coffee.”
If I hadn’t walked in the front door of Skin Scribes I’d swear I was sitting in some house somewhere.”
“I’ll just take these platters out to the customers and make sure everyone is comfortable while they wait their turn.”
Alex laughs at me staring after Martha.
“Nobody can be sad with a cookie in their hand,” he says.
“Martha owns this place?” I can’t wrap my mind about this grandmotherly woman owning a tattoo parlor, where she bakes cookies.
“Her and Peggy. After their husbands died they came in to get tattoos, but it was closing down. Widows with grown kids, and not must else to do, so they bought the place. Made it bright, homey, and started renting out spots. They supply customers with warm cookies, and fresh delicious coffee while they wait. They are trying to get the space next door to open a cookie and coffee place, where people can just hang out.
“When did they buy this place?”
“About ten years, or so. And they started making money hand over fist as soon as they brightened the place up.” He takes a bite of the cookie. “Or, it could be the cookies.”
My schedule is filled for the next three weeks and I have a stack of messages, calls to return, for scheduling. “How the hell did this happen?”
“Eye candy,” Kelsey says before she bites into a chocolate chip cookie.
I just snort. That’s something I’ve never been accused of.
“How come you only work during the day and not on weekends?”
“I used to work the weekends. That’s some of the busier times.”
“But you’ve marked yourself out.”
“Well, I did that after we started hanging out. I don’t want to be here when I can be with you.”
Kelsey straightens and narrows her eyes. “Don’t be screwing yourself over to spend time with me.”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal. It’s not like I had people lining up at the door.”
“Well, you do now.”
Yeah, apparently I do. And, I don’t want to lose the customers. I should cash in on the popularity and make some money before they move on to the next guy who pops up on a reality show.
“This next week I’m going to be studying and taking finals, starting with cracking the books tonight.”
“You said last week you weren’t worried,” I remind her.
“I’m not. Not really, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make sure I get good grades.”
“So, you are telling me to work and you’ll study, and what, we’ll see each other in a week or so?”
Kelsey grins at me. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ve got to go to school, study and work at the bookstore. I’ve been slacking a lot to spend time with you.”
“Don’t be saying that just to get me to work more.”
“I’m not,” she insists. “You gotta do this, and I gotta study. The end.”
I stare into her brown eyes. She doesn’t even blink, not backing down. “Fine,” I finally blow out and start erasing the penciled in “X”s in my calendar of when I didn’t plan on being here, starting with tomorrow. And, I free up the nights for the next week, though I give myself a little time off. I can’t constantly be doing tats and I will be at Kelsey’s when she gets home from the bookstore. Even if I’m just sitting there while she studies. “I’ll take this out and make some calls and start scheduling.”
“And, I’ll sit here and eat cookies and enjoy the coffee.”
I grab a chair and sit next to Peggy and pull my phone out of my pocket. She takes it from me.
“Oh, honey, you do not want anyone getting your personal number.” She shoves the business phone over to me.
“But, I’ll be tying up the line for people calling in.”
“They’ll call back.”
For the next two hours I alternate between calling people and scheduling the others who came in. “I’m going to be eating, drinking, sleeping and pissing tattoos from now until Christmas.”
“It’s the price of fame, sweetheart,” Peggy says as she slaps my ass as I’m walking away.
By the time Alex was done figuring out his schedule, it was late afternoon. We grabbed a bite to eat. Not that I was all that hungry after filling my stomach with the best cookies on the face of this planet, and then he took me home. I cracked the books, and he went back to work to the first of his adoring fans.
We barely talked on Sunday, and he sounded so tired on the phone that I told him to go home and sleep. He says that he’ll see me Monday evening, but I’d rather he worked. Besides, I do need to study. I don’t care how good my grades are, I’ll still worry about each one until I have my diploma.
Monday morning greeted me with anxiety. Had any of my classmates seen the segment? Would they say anything? I really hope none of them had. I don’t want to have a conversation about my life or answer questions. It’s my life. My personal life. But, I did put it out there.
By the time I was done with my first two classes, I could finally relax. Sure, people looked at me and there was whispering, but nobody said anything. Thank God.
There were a few nods of recognition at the bookstore, but nobody said anything there either.
It’s great that Alex can cash in on the fame, but I’m equally happy that I was nothing more than the body for him to put his work on.
By Wednesday, I still hadn’t seen Alex. I get that he’s tired and working a lot of hours, plus I need to study since the first of my finals start today, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t miss him.
I miss him a lot. More than I thought it was possible to miss someone.
Shelby’s been a bigger bitch than ever. I thought she’d lighten up since Alex hasn’t been around, but she’s gotten worse. Mary insists it’s permanent PMS, and I’m beginning to think she’s right.
As I’m leaving the last of my finals on Wednesday, a message pops up in my email from my academic advisor. Just seeing her name causes my stomach to tighten. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I always turn into a scared kid when I’m called into the office. Afraid I’ve done something wrong.
I make a beeline for her office. I could call or email, but I don’t have to be at work today, and I’d rather find out now instead of emailing her for an appointment. She could be busy and not have time, and if that’s the case, I’ll just get her earliest appointment and then leave.
Mrs. Jacobs is alone in her office and calls me in as soon as I knock.
“You needed to see me?”
Yes, she smiles sadly and indicates to the chair at the front of her desk.
My stomach churns more.
“It’s about the student teaching position.”
“Yes?”
“They no longer think you are a good fit for their school.”
This time my stomach and heart drop. “What?”
“The principal saw that show. The one with you getting a tattoo.”
“Yes,” I say slowly.
“Well, it’s a rather prestigious school,” Mrs. Jacobs reminds me. “They took you on because of your outstanding academics.”
“And?”
“But, the
y no longer think you are the best influence on their students.”
“Because I got a tattoo?” What year are we living in?
“No. But your actions, language, the way you allowed yourself to be displayed, and frankly, your life before.”
My heart starts pounding, and I’m not sure if it’s from anxiety or anger. My chest is also tightening, making it difficult to breath. Anxiety! I try and take deep breaths, even though they are painful, and blow them out slowly.
“A number of their students watch that show religiously. The principal and a few of the board members fear that you will be a bad influence on their students.”
“Bad influence. I may not have had a perfect life, but I got an education. Bettered myself.”
“They also feel you’ll be a distraction. The students will care more about your tattoo and why you got it and not anything you can teach them. They don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be teaching a class when the boys may have already seen your breasts either.”
The one thing I need to graduate and to work at Baxter has just been taken away. “What am I supposed to do? Where can I student teach? I won’t be able to graduate.” It’s becoming more difficult to breathe as the panic sets in.
“I’ll make some calls. Not all schools are as judgmental,” Mrs. Jacobs says with a kind smile. “I’ll get you placed.”
“But, what if you can’t?”
“We will. I will. There are several schools on our list that work with the university in placing teachers. I am sure I will find you a spot.”
“Unless they’ve seen that damn show,” I mutter.
“I assure you, not everyone is like the academy that just rejected you.”
I’ve got to get out of here before I’m sick. “Thank you.” I stand. “Please let me know as soon as you hear anything.”
“Kelsey,” Mrs. Jacobs says as I get to the door of her office. “For what it’s worth. I admire you, the maturity you showed in the decision you had to make, and how you turned your life around. I wish more of our students were as wise.”
I just nod, blinking back tears. I don’t feel very wise right now. No, stupid is more like it. I wanted a tattoo. Desperate to get it on that day, and now I may have just ruined all of my dreams and goals.