“Edgy, edgy boy,” he added, and I groaned, trying to drown him out as he kept picking things up and commenting on them.
If all those Christians who’d warned me to change my sinful ways were right and hell was real, then I was pretty sure it would just be this, for all eternity. Laying on my back and listening to the guy I liked rattle off his observations at my embarrassing childhood bedroom.
“No sports trophies?” He asked, which I answered with a sarcastic laugh.
“You know I hated jocks,” I reminded him, when a certain thought occurred to me. “You didn’t play sports in school, right?”
He glanced over, looking a bit sheepish.
“Well… Not exactly. It wasn’t in school.”
“Tell me,” I ordered.
“Are you sure you want to know?” He asked, grinning.
“How bad could it be?”
“Well, I… Played a lot of tennis. At my family’s country club. I’ve actually won a few tournaments and stuff, too.” The corner of my mouth twitched up as I struggled to hold in my laughter. He put a hand on his hip, eyeing me with obvious amusement. “Hey, you forced me to tell you.”
“It’s okay. I should have guessed you would be into something like that.”
“Tennis is incredibly difficult and taxing,” he informed me, and I bit down into my lip, nodding. “It requires a great deal of athleticism and dexterity.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed, even though I had basically no freaking clue about anything tennis required. “Did you ever wear those little white shorts?”
“All the time,” he admitted, then blinked his lashes as he tilted his head. “Are you imagining me in my little white shorts, Cupcake?”
“Are you done snooping through my stuff yet?” I asked, dodging the question because I was most definitely imagining him in little white shorts. His butt looked good in everything, and I was pretty sure those would be no exception.
“Your mom’s so chill to let you put up all this stuff,” he observed after a few more minutes of inspecting my possessions. “She must be really supportive.”
“Always,” I confirmed.
“Did she let you get all those tattoos, or did you do it behind her back?” He wondered.
“She let me,” I said, turning over on my side so I could face him. “I bagged groceries at the store down the street sophomore, junior, and senior year so I could help with bills and stuff. Any extra money I made went to these,” I said, lifting my arms and twisting them to indicate all the tattoos.
“Are you going to get any more?” He asked, and I nodded.
“Yeah, when I have money again. I have a bunch of inspo pics saved on my laptop.”
“Are they all cute and sparkly like the ones you have now?”
“Yes,” I answered, scoffing when he grinned at me like I was the cutest thing in the world. He’d asked me before, why all my tattoos were like that when it didn’t seem like my style, but I hadn’t answered his question. I watched him carefully, wondering if he would try again.
“How come you get tattoos like this, when you only wear black?” He finally asked, running a fingertip up my arm, over the stars and hearts and rainbow shapes. I hesitated for a splitsecond, only because I’d never actually told anyone why before. But it was Caelyx. I could be real with him, if no one else.
“I can always wear long sleeves or whatever if I don’t feel like being colorful that day,” I started. “But the reason I decided to get all my tattoos like this is because… I didn’t know if I would ever like looking at myself in a mirror. So I figured I should have something fun to look at and focus on, for the days that I’m not in love with what I see.”
“Do you still feel that way?” He asked as he sat down on my bed next to where I was lying, his brows drawing together like he really hated the idea.
“Not as much,” I said honestly. “I still have a bad day every once in a while, but… It’s a lot easier now.”
“I know I can’t really understand what it’s like for you, but… If you ever feel that way, please tell me. I want to try to help.”
“You help,” I promised him, my heart doing a stupid tumble in my chest at the earnest sincerity in his tone and eyes. He really couldn’t stand the thought that I would be suffering like that. “It’s hard to feel ugly when you’re so…”
“Obsessed?” He finished, grinning a little and I nodded.
