“Scout, I love you. You know that, right?”
“I love you too.”
“Good.”
I spent the rest of my week trying to decide what I wanted on my body permanently and where. I didn’t decide until the knock on my door came right at seven in the morning on my birthday.
“Happy twenty-seven!” Desi shouted in my face, thrusting a bouquet of roses in my face.
I laughed and took them, sniffed, and then lowered them. I hadn’t seen him since we returned home in September.
“Oh, how I missed you.”
He offered his arm and grinned. “Hungry?”
We left my house and went to grab some breakfast.
“I have a full day planned for you,” he declared after we ordered matching tall stacks of pancakes and bacon.
“Do I get to know?” I put my hands under my chin and rested my arms on the table. I just wanted to look at him and do nothing else. Absence did make the heart grow fonder.
“Sure. After this, we’re going to do a double feature at the theater. I rented it out so we can be as loud as we want.”
“Two movies?”
He nodded. “Then, we can head over to the shop and get inked. Do you know what you want?”
“Uh, maybe? I don’t know.”
“Well, maybe Marco will have an idea.”
We ate our breakfast and flew over to the theater, where we watched another Freddy Krueger flick and then Pulp Fiction. We were loud, just as Desi said we could be. We laughed, we screamed, and shouted at the screen.
“This has been the best day ever!” I squealed when we were walking toward the car. “See, this is how it should be! Me and you, all the time.”
“That’s what you wanted, right? Today to be the first and last day of your old life?”
I gave him a weird look. “Why are you saying it like that?”
“No reason. Sorry. Let’s go see Marco.”
As I didn’t have a tattoo in mind, Desi went first. “A crow. Here.” He patted his forearm. My stomach fluttered when he looked at me as he said it. That crow was for me. Desi was unflinching as Marco dragged the needle across his skin. After two hours, he was done, and it was my turn.
I shrugged when the artist asked me what I wanted. “I don’t know. Do you have anything in mind?”
He pulled out a notebook full of beautiful drawings. I flipped through them as he explained that once I picked one, he’d tear it out so no one else could ever get that tattoo again.
“That one.” I stopped at a fat cherub with devil horns, bat wings, and a pointy tail.
He asked me where I wanted it. I glanced at Desi. Most of my body was covered in small, lined scars. Could he tattoo over them? Deciding to avoid it altogether, I chose a spot I’d left untouched. I pointed to my ankle. “Let’s do it here.”
The needle digging into my skin hurt, but it was bearable. Desi held my hand through the entire process, making jokes and telling me about all the things we were going to do together.
Desi paid the tattoo artist. “Thanks again, Marco.”
“Anytime. Are you guys going to Randy’s party now?”
I looked at Desi. “Your friend is throwing a party?”
