“I have a few. My roommate Mike is a tattoo artist.”
That threw me. Not too many students I knew were living with tattoo artists. “How’d you meet Mike? Does he go here?”
“No. Ha! Mike is forty. We’re in a band together. Nothing serious, just kind of a hobby band.”
Whowasthis person? He was like a college mascot meets Eddie Vedder. “What do you do in the band?”
“I sing a little and play the guitar.”
He wasn’t smiling anymore. He was looking through me again.
“What?” I said.
“Nothing.”
“So what’s the tattoo of?” I asked, pointing to his hand.
“I already told you what I was getting. Your email and phone number, silly.”
Oh, he was laying the charm on thick now. “I don’t believe you.”
He ripped the bandage off, and sure enough, he’d gotten my email and phone number tattooed onto the palm of his hand in my own handwriting. “Are you kidding? Is that real? Why would you do that?”
“I told you I would. I wanted to and I’m not a liar.”
“But it’s permanent.”
“I didn’t want it to wash off.” He blinked and looked down at the ground. Was this Gavin being embarrassed?
“Well, you didn’tusethe number or email. I thought you’d call me?” I was trying to catch him off guard.
“I didn’t have to because I saw your car and figured you were in there practicing. I thought I’d hang out here until you were done. See how the Honda’s doing.”
“How long have you been waiting?”
He shrugged. “An hour or so.”
My eyes went wide. He had been waiting on the curb outside the dance studio for an hour. “The Honda is good, but that’s not why you’re here. I still can’t believe you tattooed my number on your palm. What if my number changes?”
“I’ll still call it just for fun, and tell whoever owns it that it used to belong to the most beautiful girl in Fort Collins.”
“Oh geez, here we go.”
“Do you want to go out with me tonight?”
“I actually have plans. I’m sorry.” I was so glad I didn’t have to lie. “I just told Ling I’d go to a party at her apartment.”
“Really?” He was serious, like I had broken his heart with that information.
“Yes, really.”
“Oh, well, I guess I’ll have to try again some other time.” His voice was low, almost a whisper.
“You have my number,” I said.
He chuckled. “That I do. Can we at least grab a coffee or something before you go home? I’ll have you back here in an hour.”
“A coffee?” I said, squinting.
