Lola lifted her chin and straightened back up.She hadn’t even realized she’d been leaning toward Rafe, A.K.A., Pupil Guy.“I’m not flirting with anyone.He has weird teeth and you have weird eyes.It’s weird.”
“You think my teeth are weird?”Wyatt ran his tongue across the aforementioned pointy teeth and winked.The dude seriously winked.He was taunting her.And, dammit, she liked it.No, I don’t.I need to do my job, and I seriously gotta get out more and socialize.Like with real guys.Not my boss’s skeezy son or five random dudes who looked like they stepped off the cover of a magazine.
“Well, I also think his eyes are weird.”She motioned to Rafe as if that would somehow soften the blow of insulting the first one’s teeth.
“You said that already,” Guy Number Four muttered.
She looked at him.Looking away disinterestedly, he turned his head to gaze out over the room.The motion gave her a glimpse of a tattoo on his neck of a black panther.As Lola started to look away, she swore she saw the panther’s tail twitching lazily, much like Dog’s often did when he was sunning himself on the windowsill.
What the heck?I must not be getting enough sleep.“So, how about some pizza?You know, instead of rare meat?”Lola spoke quickly, knowing that if she didn’t change the subject, she might ask the man about his tattoo and tell him she saw it move.These guys already thought she was a brick shy of a load.No sense in embarrassing herself further.“I mean, you can get the No Name Meat Explosion.That’s our version of the meat lovers.It has meat.If meat is your thing, which you said it is.It’s all cooked though, the meat.”You can stop saying the word, ‘meat,’ any minute now.
Guy Number Three opened his mouth, but Number Five cut him off by thrusting the menus back at her.“We’ll have—” As he spoke, his swirling, silver eyes met hers.Wanting to, yet again, point out this new physical oddity, Lola forced herself to continue to hold his gaze and keep her mouth shut.Who was she to speak of oddities when she had blotchy skin?
“Two of the large meat… explosions,” Wyatt finished for Guy Number Five and took the menus.
Lola pulled her gaze from the silver eyes and glanced down to take the menus.She noticed a tattoo on the back of Wyatt’s hand.It was a similar picture on Number Four’s neck—a large, black cat, a panther, lazily draped across a tree branch.The detail was incredible.It looked three dimensional, as if the animal could just walk right off of his hand.“Nice tattoo.Are you all in some sort of club?Is that why the matching tattoos?”She motioned between Number Four and One.
He frowned at her.“What tattoos?”
She looked back at his hand, and the cat was gone.Then she looked at Four’s neck.His tattoo had vanished as well.What the hell?Lola knew she’d seen a tattoo on both of them.Her eyes roamed around the table, as if she could somehow find the missing tattoos under a napkin.
“Now Rafe is messing with you.”Wyatt gave her a charming smile.“He actually has a ton of tattoos.Though,” he leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “I don’t think it’d be appropriate for him to show you those.Although, I’m sure he’d be happy to follow the, ‘I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours,’ rule.”
Lola’s brow rose as a barrage of questions filled her mind.How many is a ton?Wouldn’t that hurt like hell?Does the person doing the tattooing ever get embarrassed or feel uncomfortable about putting ink on places where the sun doesn’t shine?Do you really find me attractive enough for you to want to see ‘mine,’ or are you just messing with me?She ignored that last silent question because it made her feel insecure, a feeling which she loathed, and thankfully the only question she managed was, “Don’t they hurt?”
“Tattoos?”Wyatt asked.
She nodded.“In certain locations.”Against her will–totallyagainst her will– Lola’s eyes flitted up and down Rafe’s body.
“I’m guessing by your questions, you don’t have one.”Rafe’s eyes mimicked hers, running up and down her form.“Are you thinking about getting one?”
His voice was a rumble, broody and serious.He seemed a bit more intense than the other four at the table.
“I’ve never really thought about it.”Lie.She’d totally thought about it.Plenty of them were beautiful or interesting, and some were downright ridiculous.Tattoos were a way of embracing her skin and the beauty her friends were able to see in her despite her vitiligo.
“Youshouldthink about it,” Wyatt said.“There’s a place calledWild Ink.They do the best work in the city.If you get one, you should go there.”
“You’d look hot with a tattoo.”Rafe’s eyes trailed up her body.Starting at her combat boots, moving over her skinny jeans, and past the apron to her shirt that had, ‘NNP or Bust,’ in bold letters across the front.His lips quirked up.“I’ll take the bust, please.”There was a thud under the table and Rafe snarled like legit snarled— with a raised lip and everything.His head whipped around to look at Guy Number Five.“It was a joke.Damn, Roan.Get a sense of humor already.”
Lola rolled her eyes.“You need new material.I’ve heard that joke a million times since Sal got these shirts.”
“What joke?”Maddie practically slid up next to her.Ridiculously graceful, floating about with her long, willowy legs, she should have been a ballerina, not a pizza waitress.
“The shirt,” Lola said dryly.
“The shirt is the shit.”Katy walked up on Lola’s other side.“Are these weirdos giving you trouble?”
Lola cut her eyes at her protective friend.It was sweet in its own way.Katy was ridiculously protective of Lola because it was common practice for assholes– and bitches for that matter– to make comments about her vitiligo.Her confrontational BFF did not take kindly to it.Despite Lola’s continued insistence that she could handle all the As and Bs herself, Katy still felt the need to ride to her rescue anytime she thought someone was treating Lola with anything less than respect.Or maybe Katy enjoyed putting assholes and bitches in their place.
“Is ‘weird’ the Word of the Day?”Wyatt asked.
Katy looked at him.“Weird?”
“Here we go,” Maddie muttered.
“They’ve got to learn sometime,” Lola said softly.“Especially if they become regulars.”
“If you watch a children’s show about big, yellow birds and garbage can-dwelling puppets while you eat your Fruit Loops in the morning, then yes, ‘weird’ might beyourWord of the Day.Brought to you by the letters, ‘I’m an idiot,’ and the number, ‘one jackass.’”Katy leaned a shoulder against Lola and folded her arms across her chest.“My Word of the Day isparonomasia.I would never be so basic as to pick ‘weird’ as a Word of the Day.Only an imbecile with no linguistic skills whatsoever would do something so ridiculous.”
