If Only Read Free

cute men gay?”
    Dane guffaws, his whole body
shaking with it. I abruptly stop inking him. “That’s some fucked up shit,” he
says, through his fit of humor.
    “Some fucked up shit if you
do that again, dude, you almost messed with the line.”
    He’s still laughing. The
memory of it has me chuckling, too, that’s a whole bunch of what-the-fuck right
there. I’ve never been asked that before.
    “So what happened?” he asks,
as his amusement eases.
    I get back to the tat. “I
said, “I’m not gay.” She said, “You’ve got to be, I saw the way you looked at
my high heels and you’ve got style.” I’m like, “I’m in pants and a button-down.
And why would a gay guy like your pumps? I’ll show you I’m not gay, who
you here with?” She nodded in the direction of a couple ladies on the other
side of the table and hit me with, “I’m a big girl. I don’t have to stay here
with them.” We left right then, went to her place and, dude, I fucked the shit
out of her. And I did not let those stilettos come off.”
    Dane chuckles, I pause
again. “What in the hell made her think you were gay? That’s ridiculous.”
    “I thought so, too, but she
knows differently now. She was hot, man, bangin’ body.”
    “Jada Pinkett! Damn ,”
he says, with full appreciation evident in his tone.
    Two hours later, Dane’s
tattoo is done and he’s gone. My intention was to set the alarm, lock up, and
head home, but something’s been bugging me. Sitting at the desk, at the front
of the shop, I reach into the top draw and take out a sketchbook and a pencil.
I out all the lights except for the small one by the phone and, led to paper, I
give way to an image that’s been haunting me for an entire seven days.

Four: Callie
    Finally, the moment has arrived – goodbye cool, foggy
San Francisco, hello sunny, hot Cancun. My enthusiasm isn’t because I can’t
wait to leave this place – I love San Francisco – I’m just thrilled about my trip.
And this is my first one without my parents, my celebration for finishing high
school and going to college in the fall. I’m going with Su, my sister, Elena,
and her best friend, Roxanne. I’m at an exciting phase in my life and I have
many things planned over the summer, starting with this vacation.
    A knock sounds at my door.
Mom walks in. “Callie, you leave in less than two hours and you haven’t even
packed yet,” she says in a Southern Irish accent, barely influenced by over
twenty years living in the U.S. The way she’s standing there with her hands
propped on her hips, her brown eyes taking in a sight she’s clearly unimpressed
with, I feel like a kid who’s been caught with their fingers in the cookie jar.
    “I have everything I need
right here.” It would probably help if I didn’t actually sound like I’d just
been caught with my fingers in the cookie jar. “I only have to put it in my
case.”
    At the moment, I have all my
stuff thrown in a pile on my purple carpet and, if mom hadn’t come in when she
did, I’d have gathered it up and chucked it all in my suitcase. It’s not how
I’d usually do things, but I chose staying with Nick last night, and most of
today, over coming home and packing.
    Mom sits on my bed and
reaches for a pink T-shirt at the top of the heap. I definitely have to do this
properly now, so I settle beside her.
    “At least you’ve tidied your
room. Have you got your driver’s license, money and–”
    “Yes, Mom, I have
everything. Stop worrying, we’ll all be fine.”
    “I know you will, but I also
know how disorganized you can be. You’re too much like your dad.”
    “You’ve been working all
day, you should go relax. I can do this myself.”
    “If I leave now this’ll all
just get chucked in your suitcase.” She places the five T-shirts she’s folded into
my case.
    “I have everything ready.
That’s the most important part, right? I’m more organized than you think.”
    She doesn’t bother to reply.
I’m organized