Page 28 of Strelitzias in Spring

I read the labels on the containers: pork roll, egg and cheese with no roll, two cereal-coated French toasts, and a container of fruit. I push the meat toward Ava and grab one of the sweet meals for myself. As with every meal, Ava’s self-prescribed food rules dictate what she eats. Though I’ve known her for a handful of months, she’s been exercising more freedom recently, thanks to the encouragement of her boyfriend, Greyson, and her therapist.

“Thanks for this, by the way. I was planning on making myself a sandwich, but this is much better.”

“No problem. Did anything else happen with Wolf?” CeCe asks, and I choke on the bite I just put in my mouth.

Coughing through the food lodged in my throat, I grab a coffee from the holder and take a small sip, savoring the richness of the brew before I cut another bite of my food. “What makes you ask that?” I ask tentatively, worried that Wolf mentioned something to Celeste about the charged moment where I bared my skin to his eyes and fingers.

“He has been ignoring my calls, and I’m stopping by the shop once we’re done here. Ask Dante, the only thing I hate more than being bothered is being ignored.”

“Speaking of being bothered”—I toss a look at both Ava and CeCe—“weren’t the two of you supposed to be in Connecticut until tomorrow?” While the main reason for my refusal was not wanting to feel like a fifth wheel in their group, another reason was the timeline and my eight o’clock class on Monday morning.

“We made Grey and Dante bring us home right after the event yesterday. There was no way in hell we were going to delay getting to you more than necessary if you needed us.” My body warms, and my lungs compress, emotion clogging my being. I’ve never had this level of friendship.

Never.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, we abso-fucking-lutely did. Now, eat your French toast. I have to get going soon.”

I look down at the piece of sweetened, fried bread on my fork and wince. If she’s going to Wolf’s shop after this, there’s a very real possibility that he’ll mention the tattoo on my back and the need for a cover-up. “Right, so in the spirit of friendship and in an effort to be transparent, there may be one other thing that happened. It’s minuscule, microscopic, really. But worth mentioning, all the same.” I feel Ava and Celeste’s eyes on me as I continue to avoid their gazes. “So, I may have gotten a tattoo on my back at Royal Ink, and well, it may have come out bad. Like, grotesque, and Wolf may have seen it.”

It’s silent when I bring my eyes up; the shock and confusion on both their faces force me to continue my explanation. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you both that I got a tattoo, but it was something I wanted to do myself and then show you the finished product. CeCe…” I bite my lip, finally making eye contact with my friend. “Remember when I told you that I went to see Wolf about the tattoo, and he turned me away? Well, I found someone else to do it, except they didn’t have a great stencil, or technique, or anything, and so I had to stop the piece before it really took shape, and now I have a bit of a sore spot on my back.”

“I have so many questions, and I have no idea where to even begin,” Ava whispers, abandoning her food.

“I’ll start,” CeCe speaks up. “How did Wolf come to see your tattoo?” Her eyes narrow as though she’s waiting for a confession that won’t be given.

“The top I wore on Friday night; a little piece was sticking out since it’s on the center of my back, and he saw the irritated skin and pressed me until I admitted what happened. He took a look at it and gave me instructions on how to properly care for it. It’s better already; I don’t think I’ll need antibiotics. But I’m telling you because he offered one of his tattoo artists to take a look at the piece and do a cover-up so that I don’t have to live with the ugliness on my skin for the rest of my life.”

CeCe softens at my explanation, her posture losing its rigidity. “Good. I wanted to make sure he didn’t take advantage of you.”

“I don’t think Wolf is capable of taking advantage of a woman.”Not that he has to, I add silently in my head.

“You’re right. Sorry.”

“Did they draw a bunch of dicks on your back? Oh, or a bag of dildos?”

I whip my head to Ava and don’t bother holding back the laugh that bubbles out of my throat. “What? No. I went in for butterflies to travel up my back, almost like they are in flight, but what I got is closer to a blob. There’s no definition on the butterflies, and the artist kept jabbing my skin, even when the irritation became too much. When I walked out, I was told never to show my face there again.”

“Can we see it?”

“Do you have to?”

“Of course not,” CeCe responds immediately. “If it makes you uncomfortable, we’ll never ask again.” Setting my jaw, I place my fork down and stand up, turning so that my back is facing both CeCe and Ava.

Resolved to show them the extent of the damage, I brace them for what they’re about to see. “Don’t be alarmed, I know it’s bad, okay? Just look without saying anything.” I lift my shirt, giving them a full view of the mess that was made on my back. Unlike a couple of days ago, the redness and swelling have gone down some, and it’s no longer physically painful.

Just emotionally traumatizing.

I suck in a breath, holding it while I hear footsteps approach, examining my skin closer. Though I asked them to remain quiet, I know my friends, and I know that neither one of them has a filter on their thoughts or words. I’m not sure which one will break first, but I’m waiting for the comments regardless.

After long minutes exposing my back to them, and my nipples to the kitchen appliances, I hear Ava murmur, “Rena, they gave you four flying dicks on your back.”

14

Wolf

“Fuck, man. This looks sick,” my client Anthony says, pulling me in for one of those awkward-as-fuck hugs between two men with too significant of a size difference. I lightly pat him on the back, trying not to break his body.

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