‘It’s not finished yet,’ I protest.
‘Please? Can I peek?’ Her fingers brush my neck as she eases the collar of my T-shirt back. ‘Oh, I can see the edge of it. It’s, ah, a bigtattoo, Harris. Can I take the dressing off? I’ll tape it up again, I promise.’
‘Yeah, I guess.’ I’m self-conscious about it all of a sudden. ‘I s’pose you could check if it’s healing okay. I can’t really see it properly to tell.’
She snorts. ‘Well, yeah, it’s on your back.’
She moves behind me and suddenly I feel this mind-blowing sensation, which isAmie taking my shirt off. The air is cool on my chest and back as she slides the fabric off me. She makes me lift my arms up, angles her head to give me a quick grin. We’re doing this together, this undressing. For a second, I get dizzy, like bells are clanging hard in my head. I can’t think. My breath comes in short.
‘Here,’ she says from behind me, ‘let me unstick this. I don’t wanna hurt you –’
‘You’re not…you’re not hurting me.’ My voice sounds weird. The bandage sticks in a few spots. The sharp tugs on my skin bring me back to myself.
‘Oh my god,’ she breathes.
‘Is it okay?’
‘Haven’t you seen it?’
‘Tell you the truth, I’ve been a bit scared to look,’ I admit.
‘It’samazing. Hang on, there’s one more piece of tape… Holy crap.’ I can hear the smile in her voice. ‘My god, who did this? It’s incredible.’
I shrug my unmarked shoulder. ‘Just this tattooist on Eighth Street.’
‘Well, it’s frickin’cool. And it’shuge.’ She leans around again, her smile lighting up her face. ‘Harris, you’ve got a massive naga on your back.’
‘Naga?’
‘A snake. A naga, a samp – that’s what my Nani calls them. They have a lot of meanings in some Indian religions.’
‘Like what?’
She stands at my shoulder as she explains, her hands moving excitedly. ‘Snakes are supposed to be powerful. Most of the old stories portray snakes as sacred beings, either for good or evil. Sometimes it depends on how they’re depicted. Sometimes it depends on the number of heads they have.’
That makes me grin. ‘This guy’s only got one head.’
She raises an eyebrow, grins back. ‘Well, that’s an odd number, so it means infinity. Like my name. Because everything in the universe came from One.’
‘Like your name?’
‘Yeah. Amita. It means…’ She searches for the best word. ‘Boundless. Limitless.’
‘Limitless. I like that.’
I do like it. It’s a great word. Lots of promise. I like the way Amie blushes when she talks about it, too. She ducks around behind me again so I can’t see.
‘It’s healing up fine.’ I feel her prod at the tattoo edge. ‘Is it irritating you?’
‘Nah. Well, it’s itchy sometimes. But it’s okay.’
‘Are you putting Bepanthen on it?’
‘Yeah. Trying to, anyway.’ I twist my head sideways to squint at her. ‘How do you know about it?’
She colours. ‘Oh, well – Nick. He’s kind of obsessed with tatts. He’s had some work done on his back and legs, from some guy in Melbourne.’ She tugs gently on a lower piece of tape. ‘There’s more bandage here.’
‘Yeah, it goes over my hip.’
