She tips her head back and rolls her eyes at the ceiling. “Be serious. What’s important to you?”
“My family, soccer, you.” I don’t have to search myself to know that.
“Are there any credo’s you live by? Any symbols that represent your personal philosophy?”
I close my eyes and think. And I come up with…nothing. Absolutely nothing. I nod at her stretched-out abdomen. “What does yours stand for?” Maybe knowing her reasons will get my creative juices flowing.
“Our humanness. Explosion and regrowth. A dandelion explodes like a volcano, but in a much sweeter, more peaceful way. Before it does, it’s whole and soft, and when it explodes, its seeds float out and can land anywhere. Wherever the seeds land, a new dandelion can grow. It makes me think of the human condition. How fragile we all are, but also how capable we are of getting up and going on.”
Her face softens and pinks when she finishes speaking.
“Don’t be embarrassed. That’s deeper and more thoughtful than anything I could ever think. I’m a dumb jock.” I’m smiling to show her I’m joking, but there isn’t much joke to my words. I’ve lived and breathed soccer, and that left no time for reading or learning about much else.
Ember’s lips draw together, but she stays quiet.
“What?” I know she has something to say.
“You’re so far from a dumb jock, and as someone who formerly thought maybe you were one, let me be the first to tell you that’s not true.”
Narrowed eyes is my best response. She laughs at them and shrugs, as if she can’t help her former assumptions. “Do you have a Sharpie?”
“Top drawer,” I answer, inclining my head to my desk.
Ember gets up, going to it. She pauses to frown at the picture of her, and then digs through my drawer until she finds the navy-blue marker. She keeps her eyes on me as she comes back to the bed, her eyebrows wiggling.
My mouth suddenly feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. “What are you planning?”
She sinks down onto the bed and folds her legs under herself. “I’m going to give you a tattoo.”
Hmm… That I can handle. It’s marker. It will come off eventually.
I sit up and take off my shirt, then lie back down. “Across my ribs, like yours.”
She uncaps the marker and bends down. Steadying herself on the bed with her left hand, and with her right hand poised an inch above my body, she grins. “Are you ready?”
“Do I get to choose?” I’ve propped myself up on my elbows, like she was before she got this wild idea, and I’m looking down at her. She looks so beautiful right now with her sparkling, excited eyes and flushed cheeks.
“I’d like to, if you don’t mind.”
I can’t deny this girl. I can’t say no to her hopeful face. Not when she’s licking her lips like she’s doing now, and then sinking her teeth into the bottom one, like she’s doingright fucking now.
“Go ahead,” I say as I gesture to the middle of my body.
She beams.So worth it. I don’t care if she draws Rainbow Brite on me.
Lying back on my pillow, I look up to the ceiling as the tip of the marker hits my skin. It feels moist. She’s intent on her work, and I’m not about to talk to her in case it distracts her and she messes up. Instead, I think of ways to keep this tattoo a secret from my teammates until it washes off. It’s going to be hard, considering we shower after practice.
A few minutes later she sits up, and I hear the marker’s cap snap back into place. She leans back down and blows warm breath on my skin, drying it. Funny how her warmth causes goosebumps to rise on me. “Done,” she announces, moving away.
Trying to look down at your ribs is a lot harder than it sounds. From what I can see, it looks like upside down letters.
“Tell me about it.” I’ve lowered my head as far as it will go and still can’t understand what it says.
“Sit up,” she instructs, pulling my hands until I’m seated. Her fingers graze the space beneath the letters. “It says shmily.”
“Shmily?” My nose crinkles. I don’t mean for it to, but it does. “Does that have a special meaning?”
She grins, tapping the center of her open palm on the marker in time with her rapid head nods.
