Tattooed Soul Read Free Page A

I wasn’t much into public displays of affection, I accepted it.
    Caleb and I had dated off and on for
about a year. He was a good boyfriend, I suppose, but I often felt like I was
having a threesome with him and his cars. I was proud of his drive and
determination in doing what he loved. If truth be told, I was jealous. I didn’t
have any dreams for myself. My only desire was to make it from this day to the
next.
    I watched other girls with their
boyfriends, but I never felt like the giggly high-schooler with a crush.  With
Caleb, I never felt anything. When we kissed, there was never that ‘feeling’
that all the girls talk about. When he reached for my hand, I didn’t feel goose
bumps. It just felt rough and calloused from all his work on engines.
    In his own way, I knew Caleb cared for
me.  Part of me always felt he liked that I wasn’t too clingy.  When
he was not around, I didn’t even miss him. Being with Caleb was just part of
fitting into the mold of things. It was my way of doing what people think I
should do; if I fit the mold of typical high school girl, the facade was left
intact, and my secrets were safe.
    “So, me and the boys are going to be
working late on John’s new truck tonight. Is that okay with you?” Caleb asked.
    “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” I said,
giving my standard answer.
    He kissed me again in the forehead like a
child. “Thanks, babe,” he said as he turned to leave.
    I followed behind him for a while, but
ducked into the bathroom before we made it to first period. I looked in the
mirror and told the strange girl staring at me, “Happy Birthday, Becky.”
    I put on some lip gloss and went to
History.
    History was always weird. I sat next to
Marcus Roberts. Unlike the other people in school, I didn’t mind sitting with
him. I was not unaware that he acted strange and seemed happy trying to be
invisible. That didn’t bother me because that was something I understood. 
I didn’t have the courage to pull off the same antisocial behavior, but I
definitely understood solving problems with keeping people from knowing the
real me.  The problem I had with Marcus was that he never talked to
me.
    For some odd reason, I wanted him to
acknowledge me.  Sadly, I didn’t even think he liked me, and that made me
uncomfortable. I've tried to carry on a conversation, and even tried just
asking him questions about the assignment that we were working on in class. The
most I ever got from him was a shrug of his shoulders. I have never even seen
his eyes. He always kept them covered. Covered with his hair, a jacket, and
that hat. That damn hat.
    I heard a rumor about stupid Todd Johnson
yelling at him about taking the hat off in the school. Todd said it was out of
respect. What a laugh. What would Todd Johnson know about respect for anyone or
anything but himself? It was the talk of the school for many days. In fact, I
had a bit of a scuffle with Kelly Young over it in gym class. As usual, she
would not stop running her mouth about Marcus having to kiss Todd’s ass, or
something like that. I didn’t know why I did it, but I told her to quit, and
threw a ball at her head. Truthfully, I was aiming for her ass, but she turned
at the last minute, and I have horrible aim. I got my point across, though.
    It was funny, the one time I show my true
feelings, it was about a boy who either didn’t know I existed or hated me so
much he pretended I was invisible.
    Either way, there was just something
about him. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I was beginning to think I was
almost envious of his reclusive ways. I wished I could hide. I wished I could
blend into the background. I was drawn to him. He quickly became my obsession,
and I found myself watching him in secret whenever he was around
    The few things I knew about him wouldn't
fill a cocktail napkin. He moved here about two years ago, he lived with a foster
family, he made good grades, he had beautiful handwriting, and he smelled