They laughed as Vee held up the idea she had. It was a small heart with a number drawn into it. “We are teammates for life, even you, Callum. I say we all get the heart with our soccer number on our wrists.”
“Oh, that is so cute.” Lo squealed beforeelbowing Callum in the ribs. “You could have yours be a football instead of a heart?”
“I could do that.”
A very large man with long hair and green eyes crossed his arms over his massive chest as he stared at us. “You all want the heart with the numbers?”
Lo’s eyes widened as she stared, and I couldn’t blame her. This dude was just… big. “Yes, please.”
“Who wants to go first?”
“Mack does,” Lo said, winking at me. “No backing out now.”
Okay. I can do this.
“Love the hair,” the giant man said, smiling at me. “Follow me.”
“Th-thank you.”
Dean and I had finished dyeing it, and the tips were rainbow now. It looked awesome. I snapped a photo and glued it to my journal. I had my Polaroid with me here too and would capture evidence once we were all done.
I took a giant breath, nervous as shit, and Callum squeezed my hand one last time before I let go. It was me and the giant man now. Just the two of us.
“First tattoo?” he asked as he gestured for me to sit in the chair.
“How can you tell? Are my nerves showing?”
He chuckled. For as intimidating as he was, he had a kind face. “You’ll be fine. This is a simple tattoo. Should be fast.”
“How quick are we talking?” My heart raced. Each pulse sent a warning through me, like my body knew the needle was a predator. But once I settled down the freak-out, a flicker of pride weaved its way in there.I’m getting a tattoo.The athlete. The tomboy. The never-break-the-rules girl who always focused on soccer and nothing else.
I could do this.
“Ten minutes, max.”
He prepared all the materials, putting on gloves and scooting a small tray near us. “You want it here, yes?” He touched under my wrist.
I nodded.
“Mack Mallinson, huh? Pretty cool I get to give you your first ink.”
“Wait, how do you know my name?”
The needle touched my skin with my number 12 right there. The buzzing grew, and shit, it stung. Like a million little beestings.
“I know our star soccer player, who will probably go play pro and hopefully make the national team someday.”
Our eyes met, and I laughed. My first real smile. “Ah, soccer fan then.”
“My whole family is. I have three sisters who play. We’re fans of yours.” He continued doing the heart, pausing so he could write the number in.
“Wow.” My entire body relaxed. “Thanks for the support.”
“Of course. Women rule the world, and my sisters will freak out if I don’t take a selfie with you. When I’m done, can we?”
“Yes!”
It wasn’t unheard of that someone knew who I was, since I was kind of the face of the team. Lo was also talented and good, but she wasn’t trying to play after senior year. She gave it her all but would end after this season. Ending wasn’t a choice for me. I was constantly posting about the future, getting young girls excited about the sport, and being an advocate to change the narrative around female sports. But to have this huge man who scared the shit out of me say he was a fan? That was so cool.
