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“Like the tree?”
“Like the tree,” she confirms with an unbothered smile.
I hum and reach for Arya’s hand to comfort myself. “I'm Salem. Not like the city, unfortunately. My mom was a huge Sabrina the Teenage Witch fan.”
Cedar grins as she dips the tattoo gun in a container of ink. “Black cats are cool.”
“Mine came from Game of Thrones,” Arya huffs. “The books, not the show. Daddy likes to read.”
I squint down at Cedar, keeping my eyes off the tattoo. “By Daddy, she means, like, her father. Not her… Daddy.”
The artist laughs and wipes excess ink from my skin. “Thanks for clarifying. You two here for any of the bands?”
“Technically, we're here for our stunt show,” I say, gazing up at the lights strung along the ceiling. “Twins of Terror. But yeah, we're also here to see some music. As Above and Symbiotic.”
With another smile, she nods. “I hope you enjoy the show. I'm almost finished here.”
Arya presses a kiss to my lips. “You’re never gonna guess what I picked.”
“Swear to God, if it’s a ball sack, I will kill you.”
“Relax,” Cedar snorts, wrapping my arm in plastic. “I wouldn't do that to you. Your girlfriend picked something lovely.”
“Oh, uh,” I frown, nearly correcting her, but then I decide to hell with it because why do I give a shit? “Yeah, totally. That's my girl. The sweetest ever.”
Sweetest pain in my ass.
Arya beams and tosses blonde waves over her shoulder. “I am quite the catch, honestly. Salem is lucky to have me.”
Cedar finishes taping the last corner of the wrap before patting my shoulder. “Alright, ready to see what you’re stuck with for eternity?”
“God, please tell me it’s not 'live, laugh, love' in cursive.”
She stands back to gesture at the floor-length mirror mounted on the side of the tent. “See for yourself.”
Sliding off the seat, my heart thuds in my chest as I step in front of my reflection and lift my arm. When my eyes land on the design, I freeze.
It’s an old-school Polaroid camera.
From its mouth, a photo slides out with a little sketch of the sun peeking above the horizon.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, my voice catching in my throat.
Arya watches me closely. “You hate it?”
I catch her stare in the mirror and thrash my head side to side. “No, I just… I wasn’t expecting something so nice. Is it a sunrise or sunset?”
“Up to you.” She wraps her arms around my waist tightly. “Whether it’s an ending or beginning, you get to decide. Your body, your choice.”
Cedar takes her time cleaning for the next tattoo, no doubt to give us some privacy. My eyes burn as I look at the tattoo again, suddenly breathless. For the first time in years, I feel like crying—the ugly kind, where your face turns splotchy and your head throbs from the effort.
I want to throw my fists at the walls, scream into the void, and demand answers from whatever powers that be for taking away my innocence. For forcing children to grow up too fast due to things beyond their control.
Arya gave me this gift, knowing about all the things I went through with my mom, all the piece of shit men that came in and out of our lives…
“You’re annoying,” I murmur, clearing my throat to hide how wrecked I feel inside. “And weirdly sentimental. Where is my bestie and what have you done with her?”
“I contain many layers,” she says cryptically. “You really like it, though?”
