Page 100 of Barefoot Lake

“I’d love to.”

“Thank you! And Jake?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Let’s take the Trans Am.”

I laugh with my whole body. That explains why she wanted me to park in front of the grass instead of in front of my garage. My girl is hot for vintage sports cars. I back it out of the garage but still stop and get out to open Alice’s door for her.

“What are you up to?” I ask once I get back in the car.

“It’s a surprise,” she answers, the gleam in her eyes vibrant.

Alice and Ila immediately take a liking to one another. Ila shuffles Alice off to the back of the tattoo studio so they can secretly discuss whatever Alice wants to get. She says I’m not allowed to know yet. They’ve been back there for over half an hour.

I don’t need to know, but not being allowed to know makes me painfully curious.

I peek toward the back of the studio and see the women with their heads bent over Ila’s iPad, but I can’t hear a word they’re saying. As if they can feel my gaze, they snap around and pin me with a death stare simultaneously. I shuffle back over to a chair and take a seat.

At five feet, Ila is small but fierce. Her long, straight brown hair spills over her hunched shoulders as she draws, but if it’s in her way, she doesn’t seem to notice. It’s hard to tell from my place in time-out up front, but she might have added to the ink trailing down her arms since I last saw her.

After a few more minutes, Alice squeals with delight. I guess Ila’s come up with something that Alice likes.

“Alright, Jacob, you can come on back!” Ila calls. She’s the only one who ever calls me by my full name.

I head back and see Alice seated in a chair with her left arm on a saran-wrapped cushioned platform, palm up. Ila is collecting the stencil from the printer. Alice points to a stool on her other side.

“You can stay back here with me, but you have to sit there and face away from me. And no peeking! I don’t want you to see it before it’s done.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I huff as I take my seat, grumpy over being left out of the secret these girls now share. Alice places her right hand on my leg.

“But please hold my hand.”

I thaw instantly.

I turn my head slightly, so I can see a bit of her face and smile.

Taking her hand in both of mine, I gently repeat, “Yes, ma’am.”

Ila finishes setting up her equipment and placing the stencil. A low buzzing sound fills the room, and Alice squeezes my fingers. I rub my thumb across the back of her hand and keep doing so until the buzzing stops almost two hours later.

Alice sits very well, especially for a first-timer, but she still lets out a big sigh and takes a second to loosen her stiff fingers from where they’ve been clenching my hands. She’s quiet for a second before gasping.

“Oh my god, they’re perfect,” she breathes.

The anticipation is killing me. I just about shout, “Can I look now?!”

I hear the sound of ripping medical tape and expect Ila is taping plastic wrap over the new tattoo.

“Nope!” Alice says cheerfully. “Not yet.”

I turn my head just enough for her to see me glaring at her. Her smile grows wider. Alice sits up, keeping her left arm tucked beside her leg so I can’t see anything.

Ila links her arm through Alice’s right and leads her to the front of the studio, explaining aftercare and making sure Alice has Ila’s number in case she has any questions.

Alice pays Ila and asks, “Could I also use your number if I don’t have questions? Maybe we could hang out, get coffee sometime?”

Ila grins at Alice. “You’d better!”