My heart sank again for him as I stared at the inked flesh, searching for the scar hidden beneath it. "How did it happen?"
His eyebrows rose in surprise. Had he thought I didn't know about it? "I was impaled by a broken rod at work."
"Oh my god," the stylist gasped. "Did you sue?"
"I'm not legally allowed to talk about it," he told her.
My mind was reeling. Dennis had drowned, Koi lost his eye, Swayze had lost his kidney, and just last week, a woman had lost her leg! What was going on?
"Your turn," Swayze interrupted my thoughts. "Which was your first tattoo?"
My head was down so I couldn't fully look at him. "I have the words 'Get up, coward' tattooed on the inside of my leg."
"I want to see."
I lifted my foot and the stylist spun me around for him to lift the cape and gaze at my freshly shaven leg. There, in distressed lettering, were the words that had gotten me through a lot over my seven years on the road.
"It looks like you did it yourself."
"I did." I grinned, thinking back to that night in particular. "My friend, Jackie O Nasty, was obsessed with making tattoo machines like they do in prison. I volunteered to be one of his firsts to try using one of them."
Swayze held onto my shoe for longer than needed to see the tattoo. His pinkie finger twitched, touching right above my high tops. My skin grew hot and I suddenly couldn't breathe.
"How old were you?" His voice was hard and surprised me.
"Thirteen," I said matter-of-factly.
The stylist quipped, "I have a daughter who’s thirteen. If she came home with a tattoo, I'd die right then and there. Girl, you're something else." She laughed off her nervousness.
But I wasn't paying her any mind. I was too busy studying Swayze. He looked... furious. But why? I moved my foot back to the little bar on the chair, and he returned to his seat.
"Tell me about your other ones," he demanded.
A little shaken, I went on, pointing to all the places on my legs and arms I'd allowed my friends to ink. Some were good, others not so much, but each had a story about a wonderful person and experience in my life. I treasured them all.
A second stylist came around and began waxing my brows and offering me creams and other treatments. I hadn't realized how fancy this place was but agreed to allow her to give me a makeover as well. All the while, Swayze and I chatted. Sometimes, it was pleasant, but when my past was brought up, he would start to scowl, and I knew I had to return to less intense things.I wasn’t sure why he didn’t like hearing about my past, and I made a mental note to ask later.
Hours later, the cape was removed and my hair was styled and fluffed out. She turned me around, and I blinked. "What do you think, sweetie?" she asked me.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I looked… different. All the years of hard life on the streets had created someone who didn't care about appearance. I didn't need facials and curled hair and lipstick but... I looked...
"Beautiful." Swayze stood and came over to me. He held out his hand and helped me out of the chair. He pulled me into hisarms, and for a moment, I forgot all about the dark things in my life. Marisol, Dennis, and the park as a whole. I was lost in Swayze's rainwater eyes and playful smirk.
"Stop." I blushed and stepped out of his arms.
"What? You look good." He smiled.
"Great!" the stylist interrupted our moment by clapping excitedly. "Let's get you checked out."
Swayze took me to the LLD shoe place, and I ordered two new sets of high-tops, one black, and one red. Swayze came with a list, and we ordered about a dozen other types, courtesy of Fabian.
Finally, we made it to the mall, where we had lunch and I started buying clothes.
"So, you like the park enough to come back every year?" I asked, picking out a pair of black shorts.
"It's tradition. We do it for Dennis. This is our last year," he said. As the day went on, he'd loosened up from shitty and rude to downright pleasant. It was almost as if the further we got from the park, the better things were.
"What are you going to do next?" I handed him a sundress. His hands were full of all of my clothes and bags.
