Fall From Grace (22 page)

Ok, gloves are off. Whore? Whore!!! I am still a virgin for shits sake. More than I can say for Gabs. She just crossed the line.
 

"Look Gabs, I don't consider someone who wears a skirt with flip flops a floozy, but look I suppose it takes one to know one right? Next time you might want to check your own 'sex' list before you start labelling others what some have been calling you for years." My hands were beginning to shake as I clutched them into fists around my messenger bag straps. A strong breeze began to whip around us fuelling my anger towards this girl I thought was my best friend. Sure I was changing a little, but I know she was jealous of me finding a guy, and gaining some attention for once and it was not fair. At all.

"I can FEEL your jealousy Gabs. It's eating you up. Seething itself around your perfect little body and it kills you that geeky little Stella finally trumped you. It isn't a good look on you Gabs. Believe me."

"Me jealous of you?! Oh boy are you a piece of work! I'm actually the
only
one looking out for you in case you haven't noticed. You're acting like a spoiled little brat and turning into a huge bitch! I don't even know who you are anymore. You walk around like you own the place, you're royally eff-ing up school, and now that you have a guy, you act like you're queen shit and better then the rest of us which, by the by, pisses me off Stella!"

"Oh so now I'M the one acting like a little bitch. Well you'd think it would have rubbed off on me a lot sooner seeing the company I've been keeping. I guess I learned it from the best and let me tell you that maybe if you'd have paid a little more attention these past years on someone other then yourself you would have realized that the world actually doesn't revolve around you and what you want. I know, STOP THE PRESS, GABBY CASTILLO FINDS OUT HER SHIT ACTUALLY DOES STINK!"
 

We've started to gain an audience as I belt out that last retort and instantly I feel like an asshole, but there are some things you can't take back and yup that was one of them. Searching for a bit more privacy, I grab Gabby by the arm and pull her around the corner of the building but I can already sense the emotions and excitement around us in our male counterpart's anticipation of some sort of cat fight and they just follow us over.

She breaks my grasp in anger but before she starts round two I need to stop it before we jump to the brink of no return. She's rubbing her arm where I held it and looking at me like I'm in insect she's about to squish.

"Look Gabs, I didn't mean that, I'm just going through something right now and I guess I'm not handling it very well. I... "

She snaps up her hand in protest. "Whatever Stella, I'm done with this. You can do whatever the frig you want, but don't say I didn't warn you when McBroody drops you on your ass and you have isolated yourself into a bitch sinkhole. Let me tell you that it's a hard place to climb your way out of and I won't be there to lend a hand." And that was that. She pushed past me in a flurry and stalked back around the corner and into the main doors. Suddenly I'm overwhelmed by the frustrated male vibes crowding my senses.

"Suck it fellas. Show's over." I shout at the lingering audience as I try to shake off their dirty emotions. Sometimes this spidey sense sucks.

As the crowd disperses, I feel drained. Abandoned. Angry. Pissed off actually but really confused about what just happened. We have always had a little healthy banter going between us, but nothing compared to that. I plop down onto the grass which isn't that easy considering the length of my skirt, and lean back against the hard brick wall willing myself to calm down. I close my eyes and take some deep breaths. How can life get so great and so shitty all at once? Is that karma rearing its timely head at me? I wish I could pound the crap out of it.

I hear the bell come and go, but still I remain. I'm not sure of my days' plan but higher education isn't on the docket anymore. After a few minutes the light behind my eyelids goes from brilliant to dark. Squinting one eye open towards the sky. I see a dark figure looking down on me, blocking my nice sunny patch. I can't see his expression, due to the sun's position; he appears like a black shadow looming over me. I know it's HIM though as my skin has begun its familiar thrum of electricity when he's near.

"You look like crap," he said.

"Gee thanks. Isn't it your job to say something encouraging and not a statement that makes me feel even more crappy?" I say as he effortlessly plops down next to me.

"I'm a demon. We don't have human suck up filters. Sorry. Would it help if I said you were sexy crappy?"

I laugh a little. "Ya, no. Thanks anyways." I pull my book bag strap over my head and place it beside me so I could lean my head against Ash's shoulder. He leans into me and I'm instantly comforted. Or maybe other emotions are just taking over the annoying human instincts to care.

"Well I only caught the tail end of Gabs storming off but I could tell from her angst ridden look that you didn't get off too easily. Although from what I did hear, you threw a few nice punches."

"Huh. This is not how I planned for today to roll." I sit up, closing my eyes into my palms as I rub the dull ache that has formed at my temples.

"And how exactly were you planning on spending the day?"

I look over at him and his imploring eyes. He's drinking me in and I can tell my outfit choice did not go unnoticed. My skirts hiked up a little too far and he probably has a nice view down my shirt as it's bunched up from my hasty plunk to the ground. I suppose all might not be lost today.

I'm starting to sweat as I sit in the waiting room anxiously peering at the clock as my impending appointment time is drawing near. All around me are images of previous 'tat' jobs meant to inspire and impress you. Even though it was my idea, I think deep down I'm a big chicken for pain.

Tattoo parlours have really come a long way though. Far from the olden days of drunken sailors stumbling in around midnight to plaster some chicks name in a heart on their biceps. With hopes to impress, and more often succeed, at getting into their pants.

It feels almost like a dentists' office. The room is small but very neat and above all, clean as a whistle; I guess there are health codes to adhere to these days. The brazen pictures that adorn the walls are the only indication that this is definitely not the place for a root canal. I walk over and scan the photos once more looking for that boost of confidence, I mean this is no biggie right? There are so many people who have tattoos; all ages, all sizes, and quite a few folks who look like they were the ones truly living those 'wild' times back in the day. I especially like the one of a guy with a long greyed moustache, bald head and what looks like a charcoal business suit and white shirt he's ripped open to reveal a giant superman 's'on his chest. That takes some balls man.
 

As I plunk myself back down, clasp my hands between my knees, and nervously bob my legs up and down it dawns on me that I'm having a mid-teen crisis today. The flipping out on Gabs, running out to get some body art, wanting desperately to get Ash's clothes off; it all adds up to crazy town. Well maybe not the clothes off one. I mean, perhaps this is normal teenage angst stuff, but to me, it feels like I have about three thousand hormones ripping me apart. I chose to inflict pain, thinking it would at least be something to focus on; something to direct my attention to. Is this what cutting feels like? I do NOT get it, nor could I ever do it, but perhaps I understand it a bit more now.

I'm overwhelmed with these new emotions as I crave this bad ass life style of excess and no responsibility but in the same breath, there is still a little voice in my head cautioning me to stop, behave, smarten the eff up. It's confusing and starting to annoy me.
 

I still don't know what possessed me to scream at Gabs like that this morning. I mean, she WAS being a bitch but perhaps there was a little bit of truth to what she said. I can't just walk up and tell her the real story either. Oh hey Gabs, guess what? I'm some sort of supernatural demon that can bite your hand off and kick really hard. Call me nutty, but I just don't think she'd understand. What scares me more than telling her is the fact that she could quite possibly write me off forever and isn't something I can deal with right now. Well, that is if she hasn't already. My head is starting to throb.

I shake these thoughts to relieve pressure and land back to the here and now of this austere waiting room. I gaze unseeing out the big picture window in the front of the room. I can still hear the high pitched buzz of the electric needle sticking it to the current client but no screaming so that's a good sign right?
 

As I shuffle my feet and squirm in my seat to find a more comfortable position, the door chime rings and Ash steps in with a paper bag of treats and a coffee tray. As if I could eat right now?

"Hello my little vixen! Decide on the perfect tramp stamp yet?" He grins as he takes a big swig of his medium black and flops down beside me handing me the tray. I wave him away and continue to bounce my knees.

"Actually I'm thinking I'd go with a giant fire breathing dragon that covers my entire back and up to my neck. Go subtle you know?" I say with a forced grin. His presence calms me down a notch though and I almost forget about the impending pain. Almost.

"Touché Stells," he says as he pulls out a double chocolate donut from the greasy bag and finishes it in two bites. "You know if you're looking to impress me, you 'could' just skip over to another bad ass dimension and spar with an Orcas demon, that would be pretty cool," he mumbles licking his fingers.
 

"I think I'll start small, then perhaps work up to summoning the devil or eating a beating heart by next week, that's more my style anyways, thanks."
 

He grins, offering me what's left in the bag.

"Donut for courage?" he asks.

I wave off the food, taking a deep breath to steady my shaking hands.

"Who needs courage? this is child's play," I say completely unbelievably. And just as I say it, Jake the 'tat guy' comes walking through the door to usher me into his lair of body art.

"Yup child's play for someone as tough as me." I mutter, more for me then for Ash's benefit. As I get up and follow Jake through the back door, my knees are shaking out all the courage that got me here.

"Knock 'em dead devil woman." He shouts after me as I hear him laughing from the waiting room. I asked him to wait outside, preferring to do this alone in case I do cry like a little bitch. No ones needs to see that spectacle.

"It's pretty awesome right? I mean, I won't hate it for at least 10 years or so, you think?"

"Well it'll probably be gone in 3 as our bodies constantly heal and will eventually be erased completely," he says while studying my new friend.

"What?! Why the hell didn't you tell me that before! You're telling me that I went through an hour or pain only to have it disappear?!" I look at him incredulously.

"I kinda wanted to see if you'd do it. Seemed like a good way to spend a morning." He grins but keeps his eyes trained on my hip. "It sure beat the physics quiz I was supposed to take."

Flustered with this whole healing crap, I turn back to look at Frank in the full length mirror in Jakes office. Instantly he calms me down and makes me smile. A grand trait in a sidekick I might add. I've named him Frank. My co-conspirator, bff, partner in crime. I started to call him that cause he looks like a Frank and I like the idea of a wee conniver that I can plot to.

"Looks very much like a Frank, or maybe a Lou?" Ash queries but still remains locked on my upper right hip. I'm not sure if he's staring at my new tattoo anymore or the fact that it sits quite low on my hip in order to avoid regret come bikini season. I guess I didn't really need to worry about that either; I could have gotten it on my forehead.

"Definitely a Frank. Frank is more of a mobster name, a cool bad ass who'd watch my back in a take down," I confirm.

As I continue to move around, admiring him at new angles, my excitement levels ramp up to vibrating. I can't stop smiling looking down at my wee swallow with his wings flapping open and soaring through the air - figuratively speaking of corse. He's only about 2 inches long, but I feel like he adds about 10 inches of coolness to me. Not the best choice of words but you get the picture.

I chose the swallow for no other reason then a random wikipedia reference I once read that said that sailors used to get swallow tattoos after saving a man's life. For some reason it stuck with me and I always thought it was an interesting reminder of something you are destined for that is far greater then what you set out to achieve. That and it was less painful then a big dragon across my back.

As Jake came back in with the sterile bandages I can't help but be proud that I went through with it. See Gabby, I can achieve goals. Pfftttt.

As I mentioned earlier, I probably should have stayed in bed today cause even though it started crappy and got better, I should have known that eventually my less then scholarly habits of skipping class would come back and bite me in the arse.

Dad was waiting in the front living room (which was odd to begin with) with no TV, no work, no beer even, just sitting there waiting for me to come home from 'school' or wherever the hell I was. Judging from the look on his face, he was well aware of my skipping habits of late. Still sore from Frank, I walked into the house slowly, and tried very hard to conceal my new friend; no need to blow my punishment to epic proportions.