Chapter 8

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~ Noah ~

I sat down on my couch, a mug of green tea in one hand, my mobile phone in the other. A few taps and swipes later, I was dialing and sipping the tea while waiting for my aunt to accept my call.

"I have a bit of an odd question," I confessed when she answered.

"Really? You are pulling a Kyle on me?"

"A Kyle?" My eyebrows furrowed. "What did he call you for?"

"Nothing recently, but you know he tends to skip 'hello' on the phone."

"Oh, that." I took another sip of the tea. "I thought he'd asked you an odd question."

"Not recently," she repeated, this time her tone holding a note of amusement and I smiled. "So, what's up, kiddo?"

"Do you have a bucket list?"

"A bucket list? Really?"

"Yeah. Kyle and I got talking about it and I..." I looked down into my mug. "I don't have anything on mine. I don't even know what I want to put on it."

"So?"

"Don't you think that makes me kind of boring? Someone who doesn't have any goals or wishes?"

"You had goals; you just achieved them. You wanted to learn to dance, you wanted to finish high school with flying colors, you wanted to ace that mixology class, you wanted to move out, you wanted that job at the club... Now you've got all that."

"Yeah, but... Does it mean I should be content? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy," I hurried to add, "but I feel like I'm standing at one spot instead of moving forward towards something new."

"And you really have no idea what you want that new thing to be?"

"That's right." This time I took a pretty big gulp.

"Then wait it out. It will come to you."

"Kyle said to loosen up because I was overthinking it."

"I suppose the boy gets it right every now and then," she teased.

"When he's agreeing with you?"

"Exactly."

I smiled and rolled my eyes before changing the subject:

"How are things at the dance studio?"

"Busy, but the good kind of busy. We just had a group of nine senior citizens sign up for waltz, and four new students in the Samba class."

Aunt Helen had grown up doing ballet and ballroom dancing, and she kept expanding her repertoire. She mostly stuck to teaching ballet, as well as managing the school, but every now and then she substituted for two of the other three teachers. Sometimes that meant a lot of work and since those were the times the dance studio had a satisfying amount of students, Aunt Helen was busy, but happy; at other times, there weren't enough students to justify four teachers and Helen and Olivia - the second-in-command and a hip-hop teacher my aunt couldn't fill in for - would be the only ones who held classes. Somehow, even though her job didn't offer her a set salary and depended heavily on other people's interest, Aunt Helen always managed to make ends meet. And speaking of money being dependent on the whims of others...

"How are Ben and Ink Well?"

"Well, it's the summer and you know what that means."

I nodded, more to myself as she couldn't see me and said: "People show off more skin and then they decide to ink it."

"Exactly. There's something to do for the three of them, especially for Tyler."

I could see that. Even though both Ben and Harry - Ben's business partner and co-owner of Ink Well - were skilful men, Tyler was young and handsome so teens and twenty-something year olds would prefer he was the one adorning their skin. It had been seven years since Harry had asked Ben if they'd take in the then eighteen year old artist, the idea coming from the fact that Tyler was a good guy who kept bad company and had made some bad decisions, and Harry had firsthand experience on how fast you could switch labels from a juvenile delinquent to a convict. He thought that giving the boy a job at Ink Well would keep him on the straight and narrow, and after some time of adjusting to his new life, Tyler was as clean as a whistle.

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