Page 69 of Under My Skin
“Not important. What’s important is that you let yourself explore things with hot tattoo guy?—”
“Everett.”
“Yes, Hot Tattoo Guy Everett. Explore. Discover. Conquer. Do all the things you won’t be able to do once you get back here. Understand?”
I eventually find the keys to his old silver Corolla in a seemingly random basket on top of the dryer. “Are you giving me sex homework?”
“I mean, I figured it would be a self-study, but sure. You officially have sex homework.” My laugh gets cut short when she scolds me. “This is serious, Lucy.”
“Trust me, I’ve never taken an assignment so seriously in my life.”
“Atta girl.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
I hear the smile in her voice when she says, “I’m just a great wing-woman.”
I shake my head. “Wouldn’t you have to be here for that?”
There’s a slight pause before she says, “No. If anything my absence is just a testament to how good I am.”
I peek out the window, pressing the unlock button on the fob to make sure the thing still works. I wonder if he ever takes the car aside from winter. There’s a good chance it’s been sitting here all year. “Let’s hope your talents cover salvaging apartments, too.”
“Of course they do,” she answers simply. “You should see some of the wedding venues I use. Total transformation. I can make that place look like Jasmine never stepped foot in it.”
I don’t doubt her, but it doesn’t feel right that she and Dinahave to pick up the pieces while I’m gone. “Just let me know if you need me. I’m only four hours away.”
“Will do. But your presence won’t be necessary, babe.”
Taking a steadying breath, I nod. “Okay. If you say so.” Allison wouldn’t lie. If she needed me or thought she was in over her head, she’d tell me. I wish I could see the apartment for myself. Did Jasmine really get worse after I left? I thought the place would be dirty without me there to clean up after her, but how bad is it?
“Hey, I have to run, but I’ll keep you posted. If anything changes, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Okay, thanks. Good luck.” I step outside and wrap my sweater around myself tighter in the cool mountain air. It seems like the temperatures drop a little more each day.
“You too,” she says. “Let me know how it goes.”
I know she’s referring to my parents, so I say, “It will probably be wonderful. We’ll laugh and talk at great lengths about nothing. Then by the end of it, my room will be empty, they’ll still be getting a divorce, and I’ll leave a little angrier and more confused than I am now.”
“At least you know what to expect?” she says, and I imagine her wincing as she says it.
“At least I know what to expect,” I agree.
By the time we end the call, I’m behind the wheel and hoping what I said to Allison was wrong. I hope my parents and I can have a conversation that doesn’t feel like dancing around the giant elephant in the room.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
EVERETT
Tuesdays and Wednesdaysare hardly packed with appointments the way the rest of the week is. Today was light, but it’s still after eight by the time my last customer leaves with another portion of his sleeve outlined. The guy always has to come after work, so I try to set aside my last slot of the day for him.
The other artists all finished early, so after I pull the chain on the OPEN light, I turn around to take in the quiet. I could head out for the night, but instead, I go to the desk where my sketchpad sits. Most of my art is on the tablet these days, but sometimes it’s nice to work with the medium I started with.
As I stand behind the reception-style desk with the overhead lights off, nothing but the tabletop lamp casts a glow over the cartridge paper. I should probably work on a Disney inspired concept a customer asked me to do later this week, but it’s almost like the pencil has a mind of its own. My mind wanders to a certain blonde as I sketch lines on the lightly textured paper. The stray strokes slowly evolve into the bangs and unmistakable eyes I haven’t been able to stop thinking about all day, and I’m tempted to text her and see how she did at her parents’ house. She saidsomething about finishing today, and I wonder if she’ll still want to spend time with her parents after this. Maybe she’ll need some space from it all. It’s not like she had much time to digest the news before coming here. Her fleeting cat tattoo phase is evidence enough of that.
As I finish adding some shading to her bangs and the pieces framing her face, there’s a light tap on the glass front door. Pulling my attention away from the grayscale eyes, I find the inspiration staring back at me in full color.
An apologetic smile pulls at her features like she isn’t sure she should have come here, and I quickly shut the sketchbook before walking around the desk toward the front of the shop.
