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JUMP ON INTO THE FIRE
WILL
It wasn’t until the third young woman of the day came in asking for a moon phase tattoo that I truly felt like I would lose my mind. I don’t know how I ever tolerated this for so long. Or how Drew does it now, standing here at the front counter all day, listening to these people talk about the silly tattoos they’re getting. They’ve picked it off a wall for crying out loud. For fuck’s sake, at least have the mental fortitude to get something custom and original.
Okay, I’ll admit it. Yes, I have a few things on my body that are considered basic or generic, but I had a reason behind them. Plus, I have more custom work than anything else. There’s a big difference.
I almost wish I hadn’t agreed to cover for Drew while she’s out the next few days.
“Hey,” Hawk says, with little inflection in his tone.
Sure, he owns the place, but everyone knows I run it. Bird’s Eye Tattoo Studio is more than just a place of work. It’s my home—it’s where my family is. Which is probably why, against my better judgment, I agreed to man the front counter while Drew is away. I trust very few people to do it the way I want, anyway.Damn me and my neuroses.
“What’s up?” I ask, turning back toward Hawk as he cleans his tattoo gun.
We’ve been best friends since fourth grade. One day this little boy cornered me, ignoring the rules of “circle circle, dot dot, now I got my cootie shot” and he was being pretty aggressive about it. The next thing I know, Hawk runs up and punches him in the arm as hard as he can. We haven’t been able to shake each other since. And for the record, I made sure he didn’t get in trouble for punching the little dweeb.
I can’t count how many times our friendship has caused issues in our respective relationships, though. But sex be damned. We’re both too fiercely loyal for that bullshit. We also wouldn’t touch each other sexually with a ten-foot pole. Despite our best efforts to explain this to the people we’ve dated, they never seem to believe us. At least now that he’s with Drew, she gets it. But, she’s also been around us both from the get-go, so she never had to wonder much.
“How did the interviews go?” he asks, turning his back to me as he puts his ink bottles away.
“Pretty good,” I say. “We should have a new assistant and artist starting next week.”
Ever since we expanded the shop six months ago, we’ve been looking to hire on a fourth artist and additional receptionist to assist Drew, who’ll be taking on more of an assistant shop manager position once we have an assistant in place. Hiring has become something of a priority for me, since it means I won’t have to fill in up front anymore.
“Awesome,” Hawk says. “Let’s get them started first and then look for the piercer we want to bring on.”
Up to this point, Bird’s Eye hasn’t staffed a piercer or sold jewelry, but with the expansion, there’s opportunity for new ventures. We’re also working on filling the new space with traditional art and merchandise. It’s been a slow process.
“Will do, boss,” I tease. Hawk hates it when I call himboss, almost as much as he hates being called by his middle name. It’s Anthony, for the record.
He groans at me. “I’ve gotta go pick up Ava. You good here?”
I nod, turning back to the front desk computer and reading over the schedule.
I could sit here and pretend I’m not at all envious of him and Drew, but I’m not good at faking anything. They married not long ago, and now Hawk is the stepfather to Drew’s daughter, Ava, from her first marriage. They’re the cutest fucking family I’ve ever seen and it makes me sick, if only because my good friend seems to get everything he wants in life while I’m stuck with jerk men who are…noncommittal,to say the least.
I lock up the shop an hour later, retreating to my beat-up Nissan in the parking lot. It’s a sad sight. This little white hatchback has seen better days, but I’ve also been through a lot with it. I can’t count the number of road trips, emergency runs, or nights I’ve spent sleeping in this car. No, I’m not homeless. But when a girl wants to sleep under the stars, it’s easier to do it using her car as a makeshift tent. The sunroof provides an excellent window for exactly what I need sometimes.
After the short trip home, I breathe a sigh of relief as I unlock the door to my apartment, which is actually Drew’s old place. After things got serious with her tattooed Prince Charming, she had no need for it. Luckily for me, they opted to live together pretty fast. The lease for my place was ending around then and the owners were in a hurry to sell, so the timing was near perfect.
It’s not a big place, but I’m not big, nor do I have a lot of material possessions. It’s clean and cozy. Plus, Drew left behind most of her furniture when she moved in with Hawk. So, along with the apartment, I inherited all the basically-brand-new furniture that Hawk had purchased for her. To me, it was the equivalent of winning the lottery, considering my old furniture had been with me just about as long as my car.
Truth be told, I don’t have a lot because I don’t need a lot. I’m a thrifter and a saver. I enjoy the simple things, decluttered and uncomplicated. Except for books. I have a lot of books, but I even buy most of those secondhand.
If I could have it my way, I wouldn’t even bother with a cell phone; but in this day and age, not having one brands you a weirdo and likely a serial killer. I keep one mostly for the sake of appearances. Plus, I like music. And a whole library can fit on my phone. But, I’d also like the record to state that I miss having to buy CDs and cassettes to listen to. Having all my music in a “cloud” somewhere doesn’t make me feel like I own it.
How can someone own something they can’t hold? Where is the music exactly?
Again, I feel like this is serial killer stuff.
Speaking of that little devil, my damn phone buzzes in my pocket and I tug it out, ready to be annoyed for no good reason with whoever is on the other end of it.
Hawk:By the way, Derek is coming into town tomorrow. He’ll be by the shop.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.This is not good. Hawk is my best friend. My ride or die. But Hawk’s older brother, Derek, happens to be my secret, unrequited, forever, won’t-go-away-no-matter-how-many-people-I-date crush. But the termcrushhardly fits all my undying love for him.
Since childhood, that boy turned teenager turned man has had a strong grip on my heart.
