Wild Girl

I had my beats in my ears and my Galaxy in my hand. I had spiked my hair and made myself look at least halfway human and female. The only thing that wasn't human were my tattoos. I had five. My Anarchy tattoo was the only visible one. It was on my wrist.

I walked into my all time favorite store. The kid instantly recognized me.

"Splix?" I looked at him.

He had to be my age. He looked familiar.

"Honey bear, I've been gone for four years. How do I know you?" I smiled.

"You used to go to my school. My brother was your best friend," I paled.

Sammy Dean was my best friend. He was killed in a shooting. I never forgot that. I was fourteen and I watched it happen. I watched him cry for help. The kids paid their price with their lives. They were found by the river. They over dosed and I did time for it.

"Shawn?" I hugged him.

"I knew it'd click," I examined him.

"Eventually. How you been? I just got home yesterday. Got steam to let off in this crummy shit hole," he grinned.

"I get off at four. We should hang," I handed him my phone.

He put his number in and smiled. I gave him a grin and let myself fall into though. I walked out of the store. My head was in the clouds. I felt something hard run into me.

"The fuck?" I looked up and a bright eyed kid was looked at me and holding his hand out.

"Sorry girl. I guess I wasn't paying attention either," I nodded.

I examined him. He was covered in tattoos from the neck and probably down. He was in red skinnies and a Lace Up snap back.

"Wicked hat!" I smiled.

"You look familiar," I gave him a look that said how the fuck do I know you.

"That's Splix bro. She's a hardcore rager. She scares half the black people in this town," I looked at his friend, who happened to be black.

"You were the girl who got convicted of the murder of those two kids," Tattoos spoke.

"I was. I've only been home two days. I was out for a year in Texas with my brother and his wife. Shaker Heights and Cleveland have no clue what hell they put me through," I looked into his blue eyes.

"She's a badass Kells," my eyes perked up.

"No fucking way," he took my hand and touched my tattoo.

"Covered in them MGK," I bit my lip.

His eyes went dark.

"Please tell me you are eighteen," he stared at me.

My skinnies hung tight against my body. My shirt showed off my lower tattoos.

"I am. Obviously or I wouldn't be home," I giggled.

"Damn," he fingered my lower abs.

I felt chills roll down my spine.

"Later maybe. I got to run. I had an oil appointment with my Mustang," I handed my phone off to him.

He put his number in and smiled. I walked away with a shit eating grin on my face and the trace of his fingers on my stomach.