I nodded, and Shayla pulled out the forceps and needle. Mila gave a little squeak and scurried out the door. She wouldn’t be back.
Shayla cleaned my breast with a cold cotton ball, and I watched as she tugged and extended the nipple and then marked it half way between the top and base with a black marker. Once she had the mark on, she clamped it firmly with the cold forceps. I sat tense as she pushed the needle through, quickly following with the jewelry. A stinging pain hit me, and I clenched my teeth, trying to hold my breath until it passed. Instead, I thought about Leo, and how he said he saw the strength in me. She wiped the blood off my breast and gently attached the silver angel wings on either side. I let out a deep breath, thankful it was over.
“I’m not gonna set off any metal detectors, am I?” I said, staring down at my breast, liking how the florescent lights glinted off the silver wings.
She patted her chest. “I haven’t yet,” she said, grinning broadly, and I saw she had a cute little space between her two front teeth. An imperfection like that would drive Mother insane. “You’re a happy person,” I commented without thinking as I got up and carefully pulled my shirt on. I stuffed my bra in my purse.
She eyed me strangely. “Just because I have a lot of piercings and tats, doesn’t mean I’m a bad person.”
“No, no. I just meant, I watch people a lot, and ever since we came in, you’ve seemed peaceful and—” I stopped talking and looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry, my mouth has no filter today.”
She shuffled around, cleaning up the gauze and paper. “That’s okay,” she said a few moments later. “I am happy. My boyfriend and I just got engaged this week, so I guess, maybe you saw that.”
I laughed nervously, glad the awkwardness had faded somewhat.
We walked out together and back to the front of the store where I found Mila, sitting on a leather couch peering at a tattoo book.
“Is it over?” she asked, her eyes focused on my breast.
“Yep, all over. Too bad you missed it,” I said with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes. “Thank God.”
As we walked back to the shop, I got a text from Sebastian asking if we could meet him at the park. In a strange way, meeting him and Leo the other night felt fortuitous, like I’d caught a break for once in my life. I texted back and said I would meet him there.
Mila had to go home, so we said our goodbyes at the shop. After she left, I went inside and grabbed a towel from the closet and strolled the two blocks over to White Rock Lake, a thousand-acre lake and parkland. Although Aunt Portia’s shop wasn’t located in the premier area of Highland Park where I lived, this part of Dallas still featured million-dollar homes and plenty of imported cars. Even former President George W. Bush played golf sometimes at the exclusive course within the park.
Huge oaks trees and pink crepe myrtles lined the entrance I walked through, and I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent and feel of late summer in Texas. Only a few more days of this and I’d be in school, studying like a maniac and getting ready for Princeton.
With BA on my mind, I headed for the center of the main grassy area, where I saw several guys playing football. When I got closer, I recognized Sebastian and Cuba Hudson, one of the other football players from school. Cuba, also known as Hollywood among his friends because of his pretty boy good looks, was the it boy at BA. We knew each other from growing up in the same town and had even had several classes together, but we didn’t hang out in the same circles. He was king of the jocks while I was queen of the intellectual crowd. He always had a different girl with him; I had no one.
A group of giggling girls sat on a blanket nearby, their eyes following the game as Sebastian caught a screen pass, and Cuba’s large frame blocked for him down field. Sebastian scored, and the girls went nuts, jumping up and clapping. When he looked their way and took a bow, I snorted. The girls at BA were going to fall in love with him.
He and Cuba continued their game as I sat on my towel. After a while though, my eyelids grew heavy from lack of sleep. My life had taken a turn this week, and I didn’t yet know what it was leading to. I lay down on the towel, worn out.
I woke up when I felt something tickle my wrist. I blinked my eyes a few times and brushed my arm, but it kept itching. Thinking it might be an insect, I forced my eyes to open and saw Sebastian, sitting beside me and running a small branch up and down my arm.
“I’ve been doing this for ten minutes,” he said with a grin, tossing the stick to the side. “You’re hard to wake up.”