Etched Into My Skin.
We'll All Be.
Livia Juliette Summers hated it when I called her Livy. So I called her Livy.
Kind of a coincidence how her name sounds extremely similar to “Live.” Just one syllable short.
Anyways.
I met Livy in 3rd grade, the year before my grandfather died. We’d never really talked, but we liked being around each other. Our times together had usually consisted of walking home after school since we lived close. The other kids always teased us and told everyone else we liked each other. “John and Livy sitting in a tree,” they’d sing. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
Even my mom would give me that suggestive nudge once in a while. Looking back on it all, it was really fucking annoying, not to mention embarrassing.
We started talking more when we ended up going to the same high school. We didn’t know anyone, so we stuck together.
Luckily for me, my friend Jared that I’ve known since 5th grade transferred in early in the year. I remember feeling bad about it because once he and I started hanging out again, Livy was sort of on her own again. I spent less time with her and sort of left her out of things.
So one Friday night in Sophomore year when I was going to chill with the guys, I asked her if she wanted to come with. Surprisingly, she had no problem being around of bunch of idiots boys like us.
When we arrived at our garage hangout, Livy sat on the sideline, as much as I tried to include her in our conversations. I sat next to her for a while, not saying anything. I could have chosen to continue not saying anything. But seeing her sitting quietly made me wonder different things all at once. My curious mind flooded with various questions I could possibly ask her in that moment. And I asked her a question, and if I had known such a simple question would have made the impact that it did on my life entirely, I’d ask it a million times.
~
"Want a beer?" I offer after a long silence, even though she probably doesn’t even drink.
She raises an eyebrow and smirk. “You shouldn’t be drinking at such an age, O’ Callaghan.”
I laugh. “I’m a guy. Therefore, I don’t give a shit.”
"Men," she responds, rolling her eyes and giggling. "Sure. Why not?"
Although I’m taken off guard by her answer, I hand her the bottle and she snaps off the cap easily with one twist.
I laugh as she wrinkles her nose at the taste. “You don’t get out much, do you?”
She rolls her eyes. “I go out plenty of times, for your information. I just don’t drink shitty beer. Or beer, period. Ugh.”
I laugh again.
Jared walks up to me and hands me a cigarette. I take a drag, staring at the address above the old place.
"8123," Livy reads aloud.
I nod. “We’ve been coming here for years.”
"To do?"
"Nothing," I laugh. "Just hang out and act like goofs. Talk about assholes we don’t like and make jokes. Just to get away for a while, really. Sometimes play guitar." I gesture to the instrument that Jared has leaning against a brick wall.
Livy smiles. “You should play.”
"I’m not as good," I tell her.
"Then make up a song," she replies simply, shrugging her shoulders. "I’m guessing this place means a lot to you guys if you’ve kept coming here. Why not find a way to remember and look back on it?"
Jared and I give each other a look. She had a point.
We eventually do what she says, calling the guys to gather in a circle. We sit down as Jared starts to play around with his guitar, playing random chords.
He eventually creates a catchy beat and I grin. “Keep playing that.” A couple other guys start to clap along, and I begin belching out lyrics. Livy laughs as if her life depended on it. I start actually singing.
I won’t forget this place, won’t forget the people I’m with, I’ll remember every face.
She smiles at me, nodding in encouragement.
I let the lyrics continue to flow as the come almost effortlessly. We’ve all been hurt, all been scared, but when we’re here, no one really cares.
Livy throws in some words of her own. We may not be getting younger, but we’ll party like it’s our last day.
All we needed were some good friends, and a song to sing along.
We go back and forth, adding in lines and changing them around. Some tweaking here and there, and eventually we have the beginning of a chorus.
And for the first time, I feel less alone,
And for the first time, I can call this home.
When we finally got something going, I signal Jared, smiling like an idiot. “Slow it down!”
He strums a slow but strong rhythm and we all nod along.
"We all have been degraded," I sing. "We all have been the greatest."
I feel like I had just said the greatest words I have my entire life.
Livy falls in after me. Eventually, every single one of us is chanting the line, again and again, clinging to it, holding onto it, burning this moment into our memories.
So it only made sense to etch it into my skin.
It wasn’t until much later that I got the actual tattoo, when I was already a part of the Maine, but it was officially my second one and, without a doubt, would forever be my favorite.
Kind of a coincidence how her name sounds extremely similar to “Live.” Just one syllable short.
Anyways.
I met Livy in 3rd grade, the year before my grandfather died. We’d never really talked, but we liked being around each other. Our times together had usually consisted of walking home after school since we lived close. The other kids always teased us and told everyone else we liked each other. “John and Livy sitting in a tree,” they’d sing. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
Even my mom would give me that suggestive nudge once in a while. Looking back on it all, it was really fucking annoying, not to mention embarrassing.
We started talking more when we ended up going to the same high school. We didn’t know anyone, so we stuck together.
Luckily for me, my friend Jared that I’ve known since 5th grade transferred in early in the year. I remember feeling bad about it because once he and I started hanging out again, Livy was sort of on her own again. I spent less time with her and sort of left her out of things.
So one Friday night in Sophomore year when I was going to chill with the guys, I asked her if she wanted to come with. Surprisingly, she had no problem being around of bunch of idiots boys like us.
When we arrived at our garage hangout, Livy sat on the sideline, as much as I tried to include her in our conversations. I sat next to her for a while, not saying anything. I could have chosen to continue not saying anything. But seeing her sitting quietly made me wonder different things all at once. My curious mind flooded with various questions I could possibly ask her in that moment. And I asked her a question, and if I had known such a simple question would have made the impact that it did on my life entirely, I’d ask it a million times.
~
"Want a beer?" I offer after a long silence, even though she probably doesn’t even drink.
She raises an eyebrow and smirk. “You shouldn’t be drinking at such an age, O’ Callaghan.”
I laugh. “I’m a guy. Therefore, I don’t give a shit.”
"Men," she responds, rolling her eyes and giggling. "Sure. Why not?"
Although I’m taken off guard by her answer, I hand her the bottle and she snaps off the cap easily with one twist.
I laugh as she wrinkles her nose at the taste. “You don’t get out much, do you?”
She rolls her eyes. “I go out plenty of times, for your information. I just don’t drink shitty beer. Or beer, period. Ugh.”
I laugh again.
Jared walks up to me and hands me a cigarette. I take a drag, staring at the address above the old place.
"8123," Livy reads aloud.
I nod. “We’ve been coming here for years.”
"To do?"
"Nothing," I laugh. "Just hang out and act like goofs. Talk about assholes we don’t like and make jokes. Just to get away for a while, really. Sometimes play guitar." I gesture to the instrument that Jared has leaning against a brick wall.
Livy smiles. “You should play.”
"I’m not as good," I tell her.
"Then make up a song," she replies simply, shrugging her shoulders. "I’m guessing this place means a lot to you guys if you’ve kept coming here. Why not find a way to remember and look back on it?"
Jared and I give each other a look. She had a point.
We eventually do what she says, calling the guys to gather in a circle. We sit down as Jared starts to play around with his guitar, playing random chords.
He eventually creates a catchy beat and I grin. “Keep playing that.” A couple other guys start to clap along, and I begin belching out lyrics. Livy laughs as if her life depended on it. I start actually singing.
I won’t forget this place, won’t forget the people I’m with, I’ll remember every face.
She smiles at me, nodding in encouragement.
I let the lyrics continue to flow as the come almost effortlessly. We’ve all been hurt, all been scared, but when we’re here, no one really cares.
Livy throws in some words of her own. We may not be getting younger, but we’ll party like it’s our last day.
All we needed were some good friends, and a song to sing along.
We go back and forth, adding in lines and changing them around. Some tweaking here and there, and eventually we have the beginning of a chorus.
And for the first time, I feel less alone,
And for the first time, I can call this home.
When we finally got something going, I signal Jared, smiling like an idiot. “Slow it down!”
He strums a slow but strong rhythm and we all nod along.
"We all have been degraded," I sing. "We all have been the greatest."
I feel like I had just said the greatest words I have my entire life.
Livy falls in after me. Eventually, every single one of us is chanting the line, again and again, clinging to it, holding onto it, burning this moment into our memories.
So it only made sense to etch it into my skin.
It wasn’t until much later that I got the actual tattoo, when I was already a part of the Maine, but it was officially my second one and, without a doubt, would forever be my favorite.