Antidote

Chapter 44

"So, what are we going to do?" I ask Tristan when we wake up the next morning. "Well, I have a few things I'd love to do with you as your boyfriend," he says, looking sideways at me like he knows I won't like his ideas. "What?" I ask, managing to pack that one syllable full of suspicion. "If you're up for it, I'd really love to get a piercing and a tattoo with you."

Guiltily, he holds his hand behind his back as I ponder my answer. I've had a piercing before, but I've never had a tattoo before. When I look back up at him, he's holding a piece of paper and reading it. "What's that?" I ask, snatching it from him. He tries to get it back, but I elude his hands and read the title. When I'm finished, I look up at him incredulously. "You have a Senior Year Bucket List?" I ask, laughing.

"Yeah," he mumbles, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. I peer back down at the list, and I let out another laugh. "Your handwriting!" I shriek, pointing. "When did you write this, when you were like, five?" Tristan's face turns red as he blushes hotly. "No!" "When did you write it, then?" I challenge with a smirk. "When I was in seventh grade," he mumbles, and I laugh again. Peering down at the paper again, I begin to read his list thoroughly.

Tristan Daniels' Senior Year Bucket List

Get high

Get drunk at a party

Go skinny dipping

Get a tattoo

Get a piercing

Fall in love

Dance with a pretty girl

Vandalize a house

Shoplift

Drive a motorcycle

Lose virginity

Looking at the list, all of them are crossed off except for, 'Go skinny dipping', 'Get a tattoo', 'Get a piercing', 'Shoplift', 'Drive a motorcycle', and 'Lose virginity'. "Wait," I say, turning to look at him. "You've never been skinny dipping? You've never lost your virginity?" Tristan shakes his head. I smile softly. "In that case, yes, I will go with you to get a tattoo and a piercing. And together we will complete your bucket list this summer."

***

We walk hand-in-hand to the tattoo parlor downtown. "Have you decided what you want yet?" Tristan asks me as we step inside. "No," I admit. "Have you?" "Yeah," he says, smiling down at me. "You're not going to get my name tattooed on you, are you?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow. "That's so unoriginal." "No, I'm not doing your name," he says. "Although that would be really romantic." I roll my eyes.

"Well, little lady, what can I get you?" A strange-looking man approaches me. "I'm not really sure," I reply. "Well, why don't you go look at our ideas board hanging in the corner? I'm sure you can find something." Nodding, I step towards the board.

There are dozens of designs, everything from people kissing to butterflies. I looked over some of the simpler ones (which probably hurt less) but nothing stuck out to me.

I looked over at Tristan, and he was sitting in the chair, waiting for a tattoo artist to come ink him. Drawing closer, I steal a glance over my shoulder and manage to catch the design that he has laid out. To my utter amazement, it's a door. Just a regular, old-fashioned door, with a keyhole and a doorknob.

Wait, back up.

Keyhole.

I think I know what I want to get.

***

"Ow!" I screech. Tristan laughs again and squeezes my hand tighter. "You're not helping," I say, gritting my teeth. "Hurts, doesn't it?" he says with a mock sad face. Carefully I take my left wrist (the one that's not being tattooed) and swing at him. "Geez, calm yourself, woman," he says, taking my hand and placing it back on my lap.

Right now, pain is boring through my wrist as my artist tattoos it, what does that jerk do? He laughs. He's such a Tigger.

Did I seriously just quote Winnie The Pooh?

Then again, I loved him when I was a kid. He was so friendly and he helped Piglet when he was scared of the dark and he helped make peace between Rabbit and Tigger, and he was Christopher Robin's favorite. He knew everybody in the woods and he was always looking for honey. I never liked a lot of the characters as much as I liked Pooh. Tigger was too silly and bouncy and giggly. Roo was the exact same. Eeyore was too sad and depressed, Rabbit was too grumpy, and Piglet was too much of a scaredy-cat. Owl and Kanga were good. And Christopher Robin. But Pooh was the best.

"Alex?" Tristan says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Alex. Hello?" "Hey," I say, returning to the present. He laughs. "What were you thinking about?" "Oh, nothing," I say in a cheerful tone, not wishing to disclose the fact that I'd been thinking about characters from Winnie The Pooh.

To my disappointment, the procedure is not over yet. Nervously I watch the tattoo artist as he presses his gun to my skin, creating needles of pain that creep up from my wrist.

After five agonizingly long minutes, the artist finally puts away his tattoo gun and bandages me up. Tristan and I join hands and walk out.

"Didn't you say we were getting piercings, too?" I ask him as we walk away. "Yeah," he says, and leads me down the street to a different place, one that gives piercings. "Where are you getting yours?" he asks as we walk in. "Probably my lip," I say. "I've already got a belly-button piercing." He nods and says, "I'm doing a belly-button one." We part ways.

I go over to look at the different rings they have. I kind of want something weird. I don't want to be normal and get a silver ring.

After looking over my choices, I decide on a blue-colored ring with tiny rhinestones on it.

After we've both gotten our piercings, Tristan and I meet out front. "What ring did you get?" I ask him curiously. He shows me his ring, which is silver. "What a boring and unoriginal pick," I say, rolling my eyes. "And what did you get, Miss Originality?" Tristan asks, folding his arms and cocking an eyebrow. Compliantly, I show him my ring, and he draws in his breath. "Thinking about how pretty it is?" I guess. "No," he answers, drawing closer. "I'm thinking about how pretty it's going to look on you."

Smiling, I lean closer. "You never showed me your tattoo," I say, drawing circles across his chest. Even though I already saw it. "No, I didn't," he says, pushing me against the wall of the shop. "But you never showed me yours, either." "Well, maybe," I start, pausing to lick my lips, which has a good effect on Tristan. "Maybe I was waiting on you to show me yours."  "Fine," he says, pressing even closer to me.

Carefully he peels back his bandage and I see the door I knew would be there. "I think you'll like mine," I say, peeling back my bandage to show him a perfect key. He smiles and whispers, "You're wrong, Alex. I don't like it. I love it."

"And I love you," I say. "I love you more," he says, giving me a quick peck on the cheek so he won't hurt my newly pierced lip. I feel my heart melt. Tristan Daniels is all I want at this moment. I lean in close to whisper in his ear, "I love you most."