We're Just Friends (Frank Iero)

16.

"Are you old enough?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he scanned our school uniforms.

"Totally," I said without a second of hesitation. "I've got money."

The guy laughed and his apprehension faded. If this were a cartoon, dollar bills would have been springing out of his eyes as soon as I mentioned cash. 

"What do you want?" he asked.

"A scorpion."

"Where?"

"I think on my upper arm...." I mused.

"That won't stop you from getting into college," Poppy replied. "If you don't wanna go to college, you're gonna need to get one higher up, so that not only can you not get into a reputable college, but you also can't get any job that isn't a tattoo artist, or a musician."

The guy behind the counter laughed.

"Man, most people come in here and ask where abouts on their body they can get a tattoo and still get a job," he said. "But you actually want to make it impossible to get a job. I like you kids."

He told us to sit down while he sketched out a few designs for me to choose from. I told him that I wanted a scorpion tattoo.

"Why a scorpion?" Poppy asked as the guy worked hard drawing out my tattoo.

"Dunno," I shrugged. "Menacing. Can't get a job with a scorpion on your neck."

"Well, I can't fight with that logic," she giggled.

The tattoo artist came over and showed me a list of designs. I chose my favorite and he placed a stencil on my neck. 

"Holy shit that's high, shouldn't I get it a bit lower down?" I asked Poppy.

"Nope," she said, admiring the stencil. "I like it. Sit in the chair and shut up."

"If you don't wanna go to college, you can work for me," the tattoo artist laughed, smiling at Poppy's fiesty attitude and bizarre logic. "You want a neck tattoo too?"

"I'm good," she smiled. "I have enough tattoos."

Poppy had six tattoos already. She used to come over and flash her body parts at me, allowing me to admire the new ink that she had spontaneously decided to get. Every single time it had felt like torture, especially when she had gotten one on her rib cage and she had to take her bra off to show it to me. I still remember having to sit down and fucking lean over to hide my erection until she finally put her God damn clothes back on. Her tattoos included a rose on her foot, as her mother's name was Rose, a Coheed and Cambria logo, and my favourite was the rib cage tattoo- it read Think Happy Thoughts. I asked her where she had thought of it, and she said it was something that she used to tell herself as a kid when things weren't going right, such as when her parents were fighting. She said when she moved to Jersey she was miserable and used to sit in her room and repeat those three words to herself until she no longer felt sad, and that she had used this method for the next ten years after that. She told me it always worked, and I had tried it a couple of times. It worked for most things, but it never used to work when I was upset about Poppy. Nothing could cheer me up when I had seen her with another guy, or when she had joked about being romantic with me. It was impossible to get over her.

Now I had her.

"Pops, I'm scared," I whined as the tattoo artist began to set up shop. He placed thin gloves on his hands and inserted a fresh, clean needle into the machine. He prepared his ink, dipped the needle into the little pot of black and asked me if I was ready. I said no, but he began anyway.

"Holy mother of shit Pops this hurts like a motherfucking mother-fuuuuucker," I said through squinted eyes as I squeezed her hand tightly.

"Believe me," she said in a calm and comforting tone. "After a little while it becomes a lot less painful, you'll get used to it."

She was right. After twenty-five minutes of mediocre pain, I was done. I admired my new artwork in the mirror.

"Keep it clean, apply cream, don't pick the scabs and don't soak it in water," the tattoo artist said. I handed him my money and we walked out of the store.

"My mom is gonna fucking kill me," I laughed. "I'm gonna tell her you put me up to it."

"Your mommy won't believe you," Poppy grinned, grabbing my hand and pulling me in close. "You look so hot with a tattoo."

The last thing she said took me by surprise, and I felt immediately conscious that I was now pressed up against her and an erection was gonna be showing up any minute now. Too late, oh God. How embarrassing.

"Now this is the kind of fun that I meant," she grinned, winking at me and biting my bottom lip hard. "Let's go back to your place."