Number 3
.03
“What is this list?” I asked her from the other side of the table.
Suki was bent over a piece of paper and was writing furiously and refused to let me see what was on it.
“This,” she said sitting back. “Is a list of all the things we’re going to do today.”
I picked up the paper and looked over it.
“I don’t recall number four ever being said,” I laughed. “And I don’t think number three is possible at the moment.”
“Number four was unspoken. You need a makeover,” she shrugged. “And we can work towards number three.”
“Should I be offended that you think I need a makeover?”
She shook her head. “No, but I think you could do with one. Plus, it’d piss off your mother.”
“I think the tattoo will be enough to give you a heart attack,” I shook my head.
Suki grinned. “Great. Let’s go now.” She jumped up from her seat and grabbed my hand.
I slapped money down onto the counter and let Suki drag me out of the restaurant.
****
Suki led me down several streets and wove in and out of pedestrians. She moved at a fast pace and I had to work to actually stay with her.
“Suki,” I said grabbing her hand again. “Where are we going?”
She stopped suddenly outside a nondescript building.
“We are getting tattoos. This is where I got my last one.”
She had tattoos?
****
She did have tattoos. Suki had a French phrase written on her back in cursive a heart on her ankle. While she had gotten the heart years prior, the French saying was just a few weeks old.
“Back so soon, Suki?” a man with a thick German accent smiled.
She nodded. “And I’ve brought a friend. He’s getting his first today.”
“Ah,” the man chuckled. “A first timer? What’ll it be?”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I just kind of gaped at him.
“We’re gonna look around, Hans,” Suki smiled. “Give us a few, yeah?”
She took my hand and led me over to one of the many books that littered the counter.
“I was thinking that we’d get matching anchors,” she mumbled as she flipped through the books. “On our wrists.”
“But aren’t wrists really sensitive?” I asked a little warily.
She shrugged. “Your whole body is, really. But that’s why I’m getting one too.”
“Why anchors?” I asked.
“So that we’ll remember to do number three,” she smiled.
****
Suki graciously offered to go first. Taking off her jacket, I saw her French tattoo.
“It’s for two of my friends. He was six years older than she was. They took off a few years ago so that no one would judge them. I haven’t seen them since,” she explained sadly.
“What does it say?” I asked tracing the intricate cursive script on her shoulder.
“Love is ageless,” she whispered. “I thought it was a nice tribute.”
That was Suki for you, wanting to commemorate things in the most permanent way possible.
Suki was bent over a piece of paper and was writing furiously and refused to let me see what was on it.
“This,” she said sitting back. “Is a list of all the things we’re going to do today.”
I picked up the paper and looked over it.
Things Jon Martin Has Never Done But Will Do
1. Get a tattoo
2. Get shitfaced
3. Sail the world
4. Let Suki give me a makeover
1. Get a tattoo
2. Get shitfaced
3. Sail the world
4. Let Suki give me a makeover
“I don’t recall number four ever being said,” I laughed. “And I don’t think number three is possible at the moment.”
“Number four was unspoken. You need a makeover,” she shrugged. “And we can work towards number three.”
“Should I be offended that you think I need a makeover?”
She shook her head. “No, but I think you could do with one. Plus, it’d piss off your mother.”
“I think the tattoo will be enough to give you a heart attack,” I shook my head.
Suki grinned. “Great. Let’s go now.” She jumped up from her seat and grabbed my hand.
I slapped money down onto the counter and let Suki drag me out of the restaurant.
****
Suki led me down several streets and wove in and out of pedestrians. She moved at a fast pace and I had to work to actually stay with her.
“Suki,” I said grabbing her hand again. “Where are we going?”
She stopped suddenly outside a nondescript building.
“We are getting tattoos. This is where I got my last one.”
She had tattoos?
****
She did have tattoos. Suki had a French phrase written on her back in cursive a heart on her ankle. While she had gotten the heart years prior, the French saying was just a few weeks old.
“Back so soon, Suki?” a man with a thick German accent smiled.
She nodded. “And I’ve brought a friend. He’s getting his first today.”
“Ah,” the man chuckled. “A first timer? What’ll it be?”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I just kind of gaped at him.
“We’re gonna look around, Hans,” Suki smiled. “Give us a few, yeah?”
She took my hand and led me over to one of the many books that littered the counter.
“I was thinking that we’d get matching anchors,” she mumbled as she flipped through the books. “On our wrists.”
“But aren’t wrists really sensitive?” I asked a little warily.
She shrugged. “Your whole body is, really. But that’s why I’m getting one too.”
“Why anchors?” I asked.
“So that we’ll remember to do number three,” she smiled.
****
Suki graciously offered to go first. Taking off her jacket, I saw her French tattoo.
“It’s for two of my friends. He was six years older than she was. They took off a few years ago so that no one would judge them. I haven’t seen them since,” she explained sadly.
“What does it say?” I asked tracing the intricate cursive script on her shoulder.
“Love is ageless,” she whispered. “I thought it was a nice tribute.”
That was Suki for you, wanting to commemorate things in the most permanent way possible.
♠ ♠ ♠
What do you think? It's my birthday today, so it would be a great gift to hear what you're all thinking about this! Pretty please? For my 14th year? Let me know what's on your minds, lovelies!P.S. Here's a link to the tattoos mentioned in this chapter!