Dare Devils

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vi. jumping the needle

“Guys,” Gina says, wearing out the word slowly as her eyes search the dark parking lot, “why are we here?”

Before they had gotten to my house twenty minutes ago, I’d texted Jodene and Von about an appointment I’d set up the second I’d gotten off work today. It had taken much thought and I apologized profusely in spirit to Gina’s parents. But this has to be done.

We’re parked in front of one of the most popular tattoo parlors in our area—boxed between a sushi place and a salon.

I push myself forward, forcing between the two front seats to stare up at my wide-eyed best friend as the situation dawns on her.

“I’m sorry to say this, Gina,” I say, not sorry at all, “but you’re getting a tattoo tonight.”

“But-” She stops when she looks at our faces. “I’m not prepared,” she says, her voice rising one or two octaves.

I make a sound in the back of my throat as I glance down to check the time on my phone. “You still have a good ten minutes.” I look back up at her. “We can sit here and let this sink in or… we can not think and go look for the perfect tat.”

Her eyes move from us to the entrance of the parlor. We all watch her fight with herself internally, her eyes unfocused as she chews on the inside of her bottom lip. It’s always been her tell when she’s nervous or unsure.

Gina isn’t the most sheltered of us four—Jodene wears that crown not so proudly—but she is a close second. What Gina breaks the record for is overthinking. It’s something she’s had a habit of doing since the day we met, maybe even since she was born. It’s a trait she no doubt gets from her parents.

Over the years, she’s thrown caution to the wind a few times. She’s done things that would have her grounded for months, but this is the ultimate rule breaker.

Ever so slowly, her lips start to twitch. It’s faint at first, the first sign that she’s cracking—breaking out of the secluded bubble that’s been thinning around her wants and needs all these years.

Like a flower in bloom, her smile stretches; big, beautiful, and defiant with want and distinction, that I can’t hold back my own.

“Let’s do it,” she says, grinning and unbuckling her seatbelt.

When we’re all out of the car, giddy with giggles, we make our way to the entrance of the shop, the dark walls and flashing lights oddly welcoming.

Gina untangles herself from us and turns to show off a mischievous smirk. “And just so it’s clear- we’re getting matching tattoos.”

Jodene squeaks, quite literally like a mouse.

Yvonne says in a low tone, “You know my pain tolerance is low.”

Gina simply grins at her. “Is it?”

“When it comes to needles,” Yvonne says, this being a rare occasion where her voice rises until it cracks. The fact is, she’s always been squeamish when it came to needles, not pain.

Gina has decided if she’s doing this, we’re doing it with her. I can tell by her smile and the look in her eyes.

I’m more than happy to do it. My “pain tolerance” is higher than most and it won’t be my first tattoo.

A few months ago, Kory convinced Kellan and I to get matching tattoos also—we had. The generic infinity sign. We’d gotten them in different colors and styles. Mine was like four inches long on my side, right below my bra band. It was blooming with different kinds and colors of flowers and mini insects, a blue butterfly standing out among them. It was the worse three hours, but it was worth it.

I have no doubt this one will be just the same.

“Gina, you bitch, I fucking hate you!” Von screams with laughter in her throat.

She’s holding onto the tattoo artist’s wrist tightly, her eyes averted to the ceiling as she stops the needle from piercing her umber brown skin. The rest of us who’re patiently waiting on the sidelines are laughing like maniacs and the man with the needle is staring at Von with subdued amusement.

It hadn’t taken us long to decided what we wanted our matching tat to be; a heart with a devil’s tail, ears, and a pitchfork. Though the little details and developments will be up to us individually.

Despite being as scared as she is of needles, Von had jumped at the first free artist saying she wanted to “get this thing over with.”

“Hey, my next appointment’s in an hour if any of you are ready,” a deep voice says behind me and Jodene. She’s been clutching my arm since we came in and after hearing that, her nails dig into my skin even more.

When Gina jumps at the chance, following the man across the room, Jodene relaxes a little.

I look down at her with a smile. “It’s really not that bad, y’know.”

She sighs. “Getting the tattoo isn’t the hard part. It’s hiding it from my parents.”

I purse my lips, letting out a distasteful sound. She nods mockingly.

“Easy for you to fucking say,” Von grits and our attention goes back to her.

I smile evilly and walk over to stand in front of her. She’s still gripping the guy’s hand and he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Well,” I breathe with a satisfied grin, “know what they say about karma.” She glares at me in response.

“Why don’t you let one of the other girls go before you?” the man says, running the ball in his tongue over his teeth, making a light clicking sound.

I think he said his name is Alis or something but all I could focus on was how hot he was and if I should get his number before I leave. Also, his overall physique has me thinking of some promiscuous places to put my tattoo.

Von takes a deep breath and calls out, “Gina you’re getting my name on your ass!” She lets go of Alis’s hand and grips the edge of the reclined chair, staring up at the ceiling.

I stare at her with my grin almost splitting my face while the tattooist is watching her silently, giving her a moment. Jodene steps up next to me and takes Von’s hand like the angel she is and Von holds on tight. She’s actually shaking and I love it.

Feeling like a good friend, I roll my eyes and grab an empty swivel chair close by, plopping down in it and crossing my legs.

“You know that thing Von dared me to do today?” I start. I take in the large dark curtain in front of me, dividing us from the rest of the shop and other stations.

“Yeah, yeah, you hate me, fuck you,” she replies on edge, then spits out something in French. I turn to see that the needle is finally touching her skin, right at her hip bone.

“I told you your thigh would be better,” I say.

“I want it on my hip,” she grits out, not moving her eyes from the ceiling.

I shrug, maneuvering my hair from between my back and the chair to over my shoulders. “Anyway, that thing today… it wasn’t so bad.”

The heat of all their stares slice through me but I busy myself by admiring my rose-pink nails.

None of them have brought up the kiss and I figure they think I’m mad at them for it. And I am. I’m not mad at them exactly, but the situation makes me want to crawl out of my skin or hide inside myself. Especially since I liked it and I haven’t been able to think about much else. It’s enough for me to dread seeing him again.

“How good is ‘wasn’t so bad’?” Gina asks from my right.

She’s a few feet away on the next chair. She’s laying on her side and the end of her skirt hiked and bunched up at her hip. If it’s not obvious, she’s getting hers high on her thigh where her hip curves. I almost smile at how relaxed she looks even though this is her first time and she’s wincing every now and then.

Even though I try my hardest not to smile, I end up doing just that. “It was okay,” I say, but what they don’t know is that I’m getting butterflies thinking about Reese’s hands on me.

“You’re so welcome,” Von says mockingly. Her eyes and smile twinkle at me as she momentarily forgets a needle is piercing her skin a thousand times.

But then Alis hits a tender spot and Von curses, switching languages again and I can’t help bursting into laughter.

I’m second on the stand for Alis because Jodene needs more time to get herself together and figure out where to put hers, while Gina has to flip onto her stomach for another tattoo; Von’s name on her left butt cheek. No, she wasn’t kidding.

“Is this really necessary?” Gina says to Von, stretching her arms above her.

Her tattooist, Baren, is cleaning his equipment when he says. “I hope this isn’t just a game to you girls.”

Von smiles at him—a shark smile. “No. It’s tradition,” she says smoothly. “Now slap my name on her perfect ass so we can go party.”

I shake my head with a smile, Jodene giggles, and Alis chuckles lowly.

Smirking a little, Baren peers at Gina. “This okay with you?”

She huffs and waves her hand in the air before folding her arms in front of her to rest her head on them. “Just do it.” A smile pulls at her lips and she looks at home on the leather recliner that’s temporarily housed dozens of bodies before her.

“Okay,” Baren says, not questioning us further. “You want to leave the curtain open or close?” He nods to the dark curtain pushed against the wall between my station and hers that’s used as a partition.

“Open is fine,” Gina says then looks up at Von. “If this is supposed to be punishment, it’s not working.”

Von hums, back to her carefree, relaxed self. Her tattoo had been no larger than the length of my pinky and all black—not even colored in—that’s how much she’d been ready to get out of the chair.

“Oh no sweety,” she says, her voice like silk as she leans down to level their gazes. “This is for the future. So anyone you have backshots with will always think of me.”

I choke and Jodene sputters before we both start laughing.

“You’re a set of trouble aren’t you,” Alis says, moments later as he’s wiping the spot where my collarbone and shoulder meet.

Smiling, I shrug. “On our good days.” I meet his ice-blue eyes. “Today’s a really good day.”

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