Sequel: Take a Hit
Status: done. just "take a hit" and move on to the sequel.

Me, You

Thirteen

John fell onto my bed and grinned, “Did you know he played for a small band in college?”

“Really?” I mumbled into my pillow, attempting to fall back asleep.

“They were the spitting image of a classic 80’s rock band,” He scooted closer, “Big hair, leather jackets, the whole deal.”

I didn’t respond, slowly drifting off again.

“Let’s do something today!” John grinned, “Hang out and shit.”

"Hang out?” I repeated and flipped onto my back, “What is John and Lou without illegal activities and mischief?!”

“Hey, hey, hey, I could do without the sarcasm,” He tapped my nose, “We could normal eighteen year old stuff- I have an idea. Let’s go to a bookstore and read out loud the raunchiest lines of love stories.”

I laughed, “That’s what normal eighteen year olds do?”

“Not really, but it’s a good idea. Let’s go-”

“Mmm, not so fast,” I got a hold of John’s sleeve before, “Let’s play Blind Passenger.”

A game we made up when John got his license, I would normally be blindfolded and then put in the passenger seat. I would choose the directions at random and then when we reached an official destination- chosen by the driver, we would hang out there for the rest of the evening. It eventually got boring, knowing Chandler like the back of my hand. Plus, John would cheat at it sometimes.

But now, we were in Albany, New York, an unfamiliar city with new places to explore.

He groaned, "Fine, we can play Blind Passenger."

We raced to the truck- shrugging on clean shirts and light hoodies- John beating me by like five minutes. I pulled out the blindfold from the glove compartment while he started the car.

“Okay, I’m driving towards a four way intersection,” John described.

“Go left,” I said.

“You like making this difficult don’t you,” He grumbled. He hated left turns, “We can turn right or keep going.”

“Keep going straight,”

“There’s another four way intersection.”

“Don’t turn,”

We kept going straight, until the third four way intersection when I told John to go left. There were a lot of minor roads to choose from and it made me nervous that we were going to get lost. This was a huge unfamiliar city and only God knows where we’d end up.

“You’re missing out big time, man. Albany’s fucking beautiful.”

“You and I both know that you would be scared shitless to be the blind passenger.”

“Maybe one day, Collins,” I blindly attempted to swat his hands away as he ruffled my hair.

This went on for another minute without John picking a decent place to go to. I was starting to wonder if we’ve driven too far until he stomped on the break, scaring the shit out of me.

“Take off your blindfold,” He said, shifting the gear to park.

When I pulled the bandana off, I wasn’t sure how to respond. ‘Modern Body Art Tattoo and Piercing’ read the sign to a beat up and almost sketchy tattoo parlor. It blended in. If you drove down this street too quickly, you probably would’ve missed it.

“John...”

“I know I said no bucket list goals for today, but how about number 32?”

32. Get a tattoo

“I don’t know...”

“Look, you wouldn’t have to get anything fancy either, maybe like an inner lip tattoo so you won’t have to worry about people seeing it. I could get one with you too!” He said, excitedly.

There was no point in arguing because John was already out the car and striding towards the shop. He was right though, nobody would have to see my tattoo if I didn’t want them to. And I guess if he didn’t pressure me into getting one now, he’d pressure me into getting one later. But, my knowledge on tattoos was limited to one thing: They hurt like a bitch. John on the other hand knew as much about tattoos as a biker with sleeves.

“Jenny will kill you if you return home with a tattoo,” I pushed through the doors after him.

“She won’t know if I don’t let her,” His eyes flickered around the room.

“Can I help you two?” A man got up from under the counter, “I’m Gage.”

“Yeah, we’d like to make appointments for a tattoo,” John walked closer to the tattoo artist.

“Well, what are you two thinking of getting?” Gage looked at me and I swore his eyes flickered up and down my body.

“Inner lip tattoos,” He said, subconsciously scooting closer.

“Perfect, I could actually squeeze you two in right now, depending on how elaborate you’re going,” Gage ran his finger down his schedule.

“It’s only going to be a word or two,” John turned to me, “Right, Lou?”

“I-uh, yeah.”

“Alright, sit tight for a little and I’ll be back in a minute,” Gage disappeared into the backroom.

I started to get nervous. This entire situation made me nervous.

“John, what exactly are we getting tattooed?”

“I was thinking that you could decide what I’m getting and I could decide what you’re getting.”

“Not happening,”

“Lou, come on! You can pick whatever word you want me to get.”

“But... that’s crazy,”

“Crazy as in stealing your debt card crazy or running away from home to see your dad crazy?”

I groaned. John was right, “Point taken.”

“Good,” The corners of his eyes crinkled.

“What word are you picking for me?”

He grinned that goddamn terrible devilish smile and said, “It’ll be surprise.”
--- --- ---


Getting the tattoo wasn’t the most painful part of the process, it was after, trying not to peek at it.

John made me choose a word for him with specific instructions to not spoil it for him until we returned to the hotel that night. I wrote down the word ‘Live’ for Gage to tattoo on John’s inner lip. It was fitting for him, never turning down an opportunity to release endorphins.

Gage made a stencil and after it had dried onto John’s inner lip, he made the four letter word permanent. He finished the tattoo quick and soon enough, it was my turn.

I nervously sat in the chair as Gage and John discussed my tattoo. When the tattoo artist finally sat down to place the stencil on my inner lip, I grumbled, “John O’Callaghan, if it’s the word ‘penis’ I swear to god, I’ll be ripping your’s off soon.”

“Oh come on, Lou, don't you trust me?”

After twenty minutes, Gage finished the tattoo. He placed bandages over the tattoos, leaving us to mumble thank yous out the door.

When we finally reached the hotel, we scrambled up the stairs because the elevator wasn’t coming down anytime soon. John peeked at his lip tattoo and grinned from ear to ear. I stood next to him in front of the bathroom mirror. Pulling my aching bottom lip down, I saw John’s handwriting,

‘Me, you.’
♠ ♠ ♠
Quite an overdue chapter I think!
Thanks for sticking around.

Comment if you want to!
Thanks so much for commenting, m-attie!!!!

5.3.14