Page 6 of In His Veins

“I really do. It’s not like I have a lot of stuff, but Tony gave me a few things and helped me thrift the rest. I use the main bedroom as a studio and I feel so creative there. I never felt like I could paint at my parents’ house, mostly because I was sure one of them would inevitably snoop through my projects while I wasn’t home.”

Paige’s mouth is full when she responds to me, and she spews crumbs on our table. “I’m really proud of you. You’re working hard even if it’s not work that uses your degree. You’re acting like yourself again, too. Richard is the real bad influence on you.” Her face sours and she tosses her food back in the parchment-lined plastic basket. I remember Chase’s words from earlier and reach across the table to touch her arm.

“You shouldn’t let Chase, of all people, get to you. You’re not a bad influence on me at all. Being around you has always made me feel brave enough to be myself. You’re the whole reason I summoned the courage to tell my dad I wanted to study art and not biomed like him.” She rolls her eyes at me but I can tell she’s relieved. To the world, Paige is confident, sexy, and carefree. I see those things in her too, but I know she’s secretly very sensitive.

“Oh great, so I’m the reason you’re a struggling artist then?” She flags down our waiter as she passes by.

“Something like that, yeah.” Our waiter stops by at the end of our table with her pen and paper pad in hand.

“How can I help you?” She looks at both of us, but her eyes linger on Paige. My friend grins at her and rests her chin on one hand.

“We need a drink. What do you recommend?” Her voice is low and seductive. I’d roll my eyes again if it didn’t hinder our ability to get a deal on a drink. Our waiter stows her pad in her apron and puts her hands on her hips.

“I’m partial to Joe’s Frozen Swirl. It’s our frozen house margarita mixed with frozen sangria. It’s easily our strongest drink and it’s pretty to look at, too.”

Paige’s lips tilt. “So are you,” she pauses to glance at our waiter’s name tag. “Elise. We’ll take two of those.” Elise blinks slowly and grins at Paige.

“Coming right up, ladies.” Although she addresses both of us, she doesn’t spare me a glance before heading to the bar. My mouth is agape as I stare at my friend.

“If you were a man, that would have been disgusting. Seriously, how did you know that would work?” I sneak a look at our waiter across the pub, and I get what Paige sees in her. She’s petite with loose blonde curls and dark roots. Her pants are skin tight and baby pink, but it somehow works with her dark gray pub t-shirt. Elise is hyper-feminine whereas Paige is sleek, if not a little coarse.

“I don’t know, queer people can just sniff each other out. I also work in the sex industry, so I can generally tell when someone is attracted to me. It’s a refined skill.” She looks superior as she drinks her water, condensation dripping down her forearm. I study her for a moment before relenting.

“Well, I’m not really complaining. I haven’t had to pay for a single drink all night thanks to you.” My friend winks at me, and begins to respond, but is cut off by the delivery of our drinks.

“Two Joe’s Swirls, on the house. Can I get you anything else?” Again, she only looks at Paige. Up close, I see that she has large blue eyes, and is gorgeous without an ounce of makeup. My friend leans toward her again, and drops her voice.

“I wouldn’t say no to a phone number.” Paige smiles softly and her dark eyes are lidded. Elise smiles coyly.

“That was a given.” She pulls out our bills from her apron and places them on the table before walking away. At the bottom of Paige’s bill is a number scrawled in pink ink. Paige glances at the number before taking a sip of her drink, looking triumphant. Her face scrunches up a moment later.

“Oh god, that’s cold. And strong.” She pinches the bridge of her nose before taking another sip. I take a sip and shiver. The drink really is pretty. They somehow made the yellow of the margarita and red of the sangria swirl together like a chocolate and vanilla ice cream cone. The food helped settle my stomach and the world has stopped spinning for a bit, but I’m sure this drink is going to knock me out.

“Anyway, yes, I’m a horrible influence but your life is so much better because of it. So, you’re welcome. Have you painted any glorious pictures of me lately?” Paige is already halfway through her drink and doesn’t even look phased by the tequila in her system.

“I haven’t painted muchat alllately. The last thing I painted was a little goodbye gift for my parents, but my father obviously wasn’t impressed. My mom loved it though, so I guess that’s what matters.” Thinking of my father dampens my mood a little, but Paige picks it right back up.

“Ava, look. You’re always going to disappoint your father. That’s just the kind of person he is, so you might as well have fun with it.” She looks thoughtfully at her drink as she tries to suck down the remaining drops. Her head snaps up, eyes alight. “Oh my god! You should learn how to do tattoos! Your art is obviously amazing already, so you’d just have to learn how to use the machine and stuff.” I laugh and shake my head at her.

“I think that would push my father, and my brothers for that matter, too far. I may not like my father sometimes, but I’d like to have some kind of relationship with him.”

Even as I say it, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to become a tattoo artist. I’d be able to use my skills and make a hell of a lot more money than I do now. I shake my head again.

“I only have the one tattoo, Paige. I’m pretty sure you need to have a few before you’re considered for an apprenticeship.” She pulls out the stirring stick from her empty glass and points it at me.

“Aha! You have thought about it.” I look from the plastic pink flamingo to her, before knocking her hand away from my face.

“Sure I have, but it’s not what I really want to do long term. I love tattoos, don’t get me wrong, but-” Paige cuts me off.

“Okay, let’s go.” She pulls cash from her wallet and begins to collect her things. I suck down the rest of my swirl and do the same. She’s already sliding out the booth and halfway to the door by the time I catch up to her.

“Where are we going?” I pant. Paige waves her fingers at our waiter as she pushes out the door. I struggle to keep up with my friend on a normal day, but tonight she’s in heels and on a mission. I tug on her arm to slow her down, but her attention is on her phone. It buzzes with a notification and Paige halts.

“We’re getting a tattoo!” She exclaims. I let go of her. Drunk college kids bump into me and say something unintelligible.

“Paige, what? No. No way. At this hour? Who’s even open for that?” I’m backing away, but she loops my arm through hers and continues walking. The streets are still buzzing with activity and music pours from the surrounding buildings. I hear sirens in the distance.

“I know a guy who owes me a favor. Oh don’t look at me like that, he’s great. He’s done a lot of my tattoos.”

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