Jeggy: Tattoo

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Prompt: "Promise you won't hate me...?"
Prompt requested by: Til_WeMeetAgain

Peggy POV:

I paced the livingroom while my husband, John, sat on the couch, tapping his foot impatiently. It was currently 1am and our eldest son still hadn't returned from his study date. At least, that is what he told us.

He left around 6pm, promising to be back by 10. He swore he was just going to his friends house to study and that was all. We knew he had some questionable friends who did illegal things but we gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"Should we call the police??? What if he got hurt? Maybe his phone died and he is lost!" I continued to pace as my thoughts spiraled to the worst case scenario.

John finally looked at me and stood up. "10 more minutes, ok? We'll give him 10 more minutes. I'm sure he is perfectly fine. Can we calm down before we wake up the girls?" He rubbed my back gently as I nodded.

I stared down the hall at 3 doors. 2 were identical except for the bright pink letters spelling our daughters names on each. The far left door said Brooklyn while the middle door said Mackenzie. The 2 girls were twins but when they turned 8, they begged for separate rooms. The third door, farthest to the right, was my sons room. Hayden.

The girls were 10 now and Hayden was 17. He had his own car and licences so he could drive anywhere he pleased at any time. That only made me worry more, though. I had to stop myself from thinking about car crashes, muggings and everything that could happen in this god forsaken city. I wanted to move put but John needed to stay for work so we've been here 20 years.

Hayden finally walked in the door at 1:15am. He looked surprised to see John and I waiting for him since most of the lights were off. John walked over to him, mostly to see if he had been drinking, smoking or hurt at all. After the "inspection" was complete, John concluded he was fine and clean.

"Where were you? You said you would be back 3 hours ago!" I said angrily to him. He just stares at his shoes while John and I tried to figure out where he was. That's when I noticed the sleeves on his hoodie were down when they were usually up. He always felt warm so when he wore sweaters he could roll up the sleeves. Seeing his sleeves down on a warm May night was very odd.

"Pull up your sleeves." I said sternly after a moment of silence. I noticed John nod, as if trying to prove he was thinking the same thing as me; although he obviously was not. "Promise you won't hate me..." Hayden whispered as he pulled up his sleeve.

He had a tattoo on his right arm, from wrist to elbow, of some quote I can't read from where I was standing. John's eyes are angry, mine more disappointed.

"You're only 17! You can't have a tattoo!" John shouted. I slowly nod. I have more questions but I needed to calm down my husband first.
I rubbed his arm gently and held his hand, looking up at him then our son. Spitting images of eachother. A perfect copy and paste. I wouldn't be surprised if he just took John's ID and pretended it was his own.

"Hayden, sit." I told him and pointed to the couch. Hayden cowered over like a scared puppy. "Now, how did you get the tattoo?" I asked. "Friends cousin." He mumbled. "How did you pay for it?" "Took from my college fund..." "Why did you lie?"

He paused, trying to think of a worthy answer. It took half a minute for him to come him to come up with one. "I didn't want you to be disappointed in me... I know tha tag now you are more disappointed but it will go away... it always does. I can't be perfect so I have to be the opposite, right? That's how it works?"

I felt tears coming to my eyes. Just because I'm showing emotion does not mean he is off the hook. "You're grounded. 2 months. No phone. No leaving the house except for schools. You're after school activities are canceled except for football for those 2 months, understand?" I said.

He nodded and handed me his phone. I knew better than to look through it so I handed it to John so he could put it in a secure location. Hayden stood up from the couch and hugged me. "I love you mom. Thank you for not killing me..." he whispered. I hugged back and pulled him down so I could kiss his head. "You'll always be my baby boy."

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