It was small to begin with, but with the table, two chairs, and lockers that
Rick had shoved in, there was barely enough room to walk around. I threw
my bag in the locker that I used, and then I slipped off my school shirt to change into one of the shirts with Rick’s Tattoo written across the front of it.
I walked back into the shop and stepped behind the counter with Rick to see what he was working on. As usual, his artistic ability blew my mind. The piece he was messing around with now was so real that it practically jumped off the page. It was of a young girl, no older than ten, sitting on a beautiful white horse.
“That’s amazing,” I said as I watched his hand move across the paper, shading around her face.
“Thanks. It’s going to be a back piece. My client’s daughter was big into horse riding competitions, and she was killed while performing. Something spooked the horse, it threw her, and she was trampled while her mother watched,” Rick said as he stared down at his work.
“Shit,” I said. I couldn’t even imagine watching that happen to someone I loved, especially a kid.
“I know. I wasn’t sure I could even do it when she asked me to, but I knew I had to. This piece is too important to pass up,” Rick said.
“Yeah, I can see why you were conflicted,” I said.
This tattoo was a perfect example of why I wanted to go into this business. People looked down on those who were inked, but the truth of it was that for most people, their tattoos represented something major in their lives—a birth, a death, a marriage, or anything that was important to them. Their tattoos were a way of remembering, of dealing with the shit-ass hand they had been dealt in life. They shouldn’t be looked down on. They should be praised for having the balls to put their lives on their skin for the world to see.
Getting tattooed was bliss masked by pain. Sure, it hurt to have a needle go deep into your skin and leave a mark, but the feeling was also about the pleasure and euphoria of it as well. At least, it had been that way for me. The pleasure of feeling the needle go deep into my skin was like nothing I’d ever felt before.
I pulled myself from my thoughts as I looked up at Rick. “What do you want me to do today, boss?”
“We’re kind of slow, so just clean up a bit, and then you can watch the front when my six o’clock appointment comes in.”
“Sounds good to me. I have some homework in my bag. Is it okay to work on it while I watch the front?” I asked.
He smacked me across the back of my head. “You know better than to ask me that. You can always work on your school shit here.”
“Thanks.” I rubbed the back of my head. “And ouch. You don’t have to get physical with me.”
He grinned as he grabbed his sketch and walked to his office, leaving me alone to start cleaning. I hated nights like these. When the shop was slow, time seemed to drag by. He had apparently already sent the other guys home since none of them had come out of the back to talk, so it was just the two of us for the night.
I grabbed a broom and started sweeping the front of the shop. I cleaned everything nightly, so it was always pretty clean. It only took me a few minutes to finish. I started gathering up the garbage bags from the front and then the rooms in the back to take out to the dumpster. I glanced at Rick’s closed door as I walked by to go outside. Surely, we wouldn’t have a customer come in while I was throwing the bag in the dumpster behind the store.
I pushed the back door open and walked over to the dumpster to throw all the bags in. When I started walking back to the shop, my phone dinged, and I pulled it from my pocket, expecting Andy or my mom to be texting me.
Instead, it was an unknown number.
Unknown: Jesse?
Me: Yeah, who’s this?
Unknown: It’s Emma. I got your note about wanting to talk to me about something. What’s up?
I grinned as I read her texts. When I left my number on the bottom of the note, I hadn’t expected her to actually use it.
Me: Yeah, I do. I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow. Just wait for me by your car if you get to school before I do.
Emma: Okay...if you say so. You’re okay though, right?
Me: I’m fine, but I need to go. I’m at work.
Emma: Whoops. Sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Me: It’s fine. Talk to you later.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket as I walked back inside. I couldn’t help but grin over the fact that Emma had to be on her date with Todd by now, yet she was texting me. Something as stupid as that shouldn’t make me happy, but it did. I was trying my hardest to avoid her, but for some reason, she kept pulling me back in. I didn’t belong in her world, but she didn’t seem to care about that. She was the one bright spot I’d found at my new school even if I didn’t act like it.