She shrugged. “You’re not the first person to tell me that. My dad used to say that all the time.”
“Okay, Ti. You win,” I said, changing the subject. “But favorite movie is a tough one, what category are we talking about?”
“All of them,” she said with a smile. “Start with drama.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “The lady is demanding.”
“Yes she is,” she said. “I bet it’s Scarface. Is it Scarface?”
I laughed. “Ask anyone else in the club and I think that’s the answer they’d give you. But I like the classics. Watched a lot of old westerns growing up. I don’t have one particular favorite, but anything with Clint Eastwood, and the older the better.”
“Westerns? Westerns? I was positive you were going to say The Godfather or Scarface.”
“What the fuck is wrong with Westerns? Westerns are the shit.”
“Oh yeah, tell me, why are westerns THE SHIT?” Ti said, air quoting around THE SHIT.
“Because back in the old west, the men were real men. They took charge of the situation. They handled their business by earning respect and gunning down anyone who stood in their way. Cowboys were the first guys to have the balls to be lawless and say fuck-all to society.” I held my cigarette between my lips and pulled up my shirt, pointing to one of the tattoos on my ribcage. “This was one of my very first tattoos.”
Thia gasped. “Clint Eastwood? You have a Clint Eastwood tattoo?” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I mean I’ve seen you without your shirt on and I knew that was a portrait but I didn’t realize it was actually Clint Eastwood.”
I pulled my shirt back down and took a drag of my cigarette. “Laugh all you want, Ti. C.E. was Chuck Norris before there was a Chuck Norris.”
“Oh my god please don’t tell me you have a Chuck Norris tattoo,” she said, grabbing her stomach and continuing to laugh at my expense.
I loved that sound.
I would remember that sound.
“What’s wrong with a Chuck Norris tattoo?” I deadpanned.
“Oh, I didn’t mean. He’s ummm…” I burst out laughing as she tried to backtrack.
I could have let her struggle a little while longer, she looked adorable when she was all flustered, but I was having trouble keeping a straight face. “I’m just fucking with you,” I finally said.
She let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. I didn’t know how I was going to get out of that one.”
“Okay, so now you know my favorite, so what’s yours? Same category.”
Thia smiled so big and brightly I thought her mouth was about to swallow her face. “I have two.”
“And…?” I pressed.
“Scarface and The Godfather.”
I laughed more that day than I had in the last twenty-seven years, all because of the girl with the crazy pink hair.
The girl I’d fallen in love with.
Fuck.
“You’re different, Ti,” I said, when we’d both recovered enough to speak again. “But I’ve known that since the day I met you.”
“You mean the day your friend held a gun on me,” she corrected.
“Yes, I mean the day the little kid version of you almost took out a biker seven times your size,” I said.
“Well, serves him right. He shouldn’t have been trying to rob a kid,” she argued.
“Technically, he was trying to rob a store, not a kid,” I countered.
She shot me a look that said ‘oh please.’ “So you’re saying that if it was Emma May at the counter it would’ve somehow ended things better? Because I can tell you right now, it wouldn’t have been a lick better for Skid or Skud or Skuzz or whatever his name was, because Emma May is a shoot-first, don’t-care-about-asking-questions kind of old lady. Just ask her first husband.” She scratched her chin and wrinkled her nose. “Or her fourth…”
The way Thia talked with her hands, reminded me of a character you would find in a comic book.
One with really, really nice tits.
“See what I mean?” I pointed out. “I’ve never heard anyone say the kind of shit you say. You’re just…different.”
“Different,” she said the word slowly like she was examining it, turning it over on her tongue. She twirled a strand of her hair around in her fingers. “Isn’t different just a nicer word for bat-shit-crazy?” she asked, her face serious.
She looked down at her feet.
I reached over and lifted up her chin so she could look at me.
So she could SEE me.