Layla laughs at her. “Song. Right? She can’t read cursive.”
“And make it better,” I finish the lyric.
“It’s so pretty!” Liza sighs. “That’s a line from ‘Hey Jude,’ right? When did you get it?”
“Thanks, I’ve had it for a couple of years. Before I moved back here the last time.”
“Howhave you hidden it forso long?” Layla shrieks, obviously appalled at my behavior.
“I don’t know. I was sort of hiding it at first, but not after a few months. You can’t see it unless I wear something strappy like this. Even my swimsuit has a ruffle that covers it, and it’s not like I wear anything other than work clothes or sweats most of the time. I forget it’s there.”
“But doesMomknow?” Layla presses.
“I don’t think so, but I’m twenty-three, Layla! She’s not going to ground me. Maybe I’ll wear this outfit to Dad’s house … becauseI can.”
“I’m coming with you for that.” Liza grins.
The girls glam me up morecountry stylethan I prefer, but I draw the line at buckle bunny. I refuse to dress like a stereotypical sparkly fake cowgirl at a Nashville bachelorette party.
“You can’t be a buckle bunny because you used to wear this outfit all the time and those are YOUR BOOTS! By definition, buckle bunnies only buy an outfit and glittery boots for one occasion,” Layla insists, forcing her way back into the small bathroom to put a simple silver chain with a swirly “L” charm around my exposed neck, a perk of us all having the same first initial.
My hair’s big and wavy, like it knows we’re going to Nashville. I should pull it up because of the heat but feeling it on my face and shoulders is a comfort habit. I don’t want it up today, but I slip a hair tie around my wrist with the bracelets, just in case I change my mind.
There’s also the little matter of the ink on the back of my shoulder. It’s not big, and it was never meant to be a secret, but it’s only for me. And because of … umm …reasons, I probably should’ve shared it long before now.
Annie’s seen it, but she’s probably the only one. At least with my hair down, there’s a chance it won’t be noticed right away.
People expect me to dye my hair pink, chop the sleeves and collar off my T-shirts, shred my jeans, and sometimes say what everyone else is thinking, but that’s where my rebellious streak ends. I don’t drink, smoke, vape, drive fast, or even take Benadryl unsupervised. I hardly ever swear because it grates my own nerves.
I’ve also never made out with anyone in an elevator or a stairwell or a storage closet, although that might make a short list of approved rebellious behaviors if I had the right accomplice …wait, what was my point again?
When I left Lexington the last time, I needed a symbol to remind myself that I hadn’t failed. Moving back to my parents’ house was a deliberate personal decision to step back in order to move forward.
Cheesy as always, I had to make my sad song better. And I’m still a work in progress.
Maybe I always will be.
Today feels like I could be on the precipice of a core memory, but I don’t think we’ll get tattoos to commemorate it quite yet. Jace nailed it the other night when he said, “It might be amazing, or it might be awful. Probably some of both.”
Dear heavens,please, no one let him think he’s a prophet.
“Dang, Smalls! Whoa, you’re burnin’ me up! Get out here on the porch so we can take a picture!”
Sam spins me around and forces me to take pictures with him. I imagine these incriminating photos will be sent in the group chat to prove that I’ve worn something besides black band T-shirts twice in the same week. I give him a couple of good ones, then make faces in some and flash a peace sign at Jace in another.
Well, it’shalfa peace sign. I can’t be perfect all the time.
Mom comes outside and poses us like we’re going to prom. She makes the other kids get in some shots too, so I behave for her.
Gray overcast skies make it feel cooler than it is, but Sam insists we won’t see anything more than a light mist in the direction we’re headed.
Layla and Liza bring me my backpack with my denim jacket, sport sandals, various girl stuff, and an emergency change of clothes for later. Jamie makes us promise to play basketball with him the next time we’re in town.
Once we’re in the car with the doors shut, Sam turns to face me.
“All right,passenger princess. Here’s your White Monster and a blueberry donut from Ralph’s.”
“Sammy! I can’t believe you did this. How did you know what flavor?”
