"There was this whole accident and the only hospital that could treat my wounds was here in America. Afterwards, the hospital just dumped me on the streets. My parents never came for me so the homeless teen shelter I'm living in right now picked me up."
"Are hospitals allowed to do that?"
"If I had stayed there much longer I would've racked up hospital bills like crazy."
"Yeah."
"I mean, my parents send me monthly checks with money, but I refuse to open them. It's like a slap in the face." She nods with a frown on her face.
"Hey, want to prank Brinley?"
We both look over at her and I smile. Her knees are up to her chest and her hands are tucked under her chin. Her brown hair is splayed over all the pillows.
"What an annoying habit she has." Wesley says, picking up a piece of her hair from a pillow and tossing it on the ground.
"The nerve of some people." I shake my head, smiling.
I reach for my Sharpie and nod towards Brinley's face. Wesley excitedly nods and reaches for it. She draws a few words and arrows on her cheeks and forehead. I stifle a laugh and start drawing on her ankles, shoulders, any exposed skin.
I notice two things then about Brinley. Number one, she has white lines criss crossed all over her arms and a few on her ankles. They're pretty faint but still prominent.
And number two, the girl has a fucking tattoo. Her crop top had ridden up - revealing quite the tan and toned stomach might I add - showing her bandeau.
Right under the lace trimming was a cursive quote, wrapping around her rib cage. Further inspection showed that she had one on her ankle too, and the back of her neck. I swear I'm not a creeper.
This is news to Wesley too. Her mouth is in the shape of an O and her eyebrows, or more accurately - the space where her eyebrows would be - are raised.
Oh and if you could check out my new series, 'Imagines' - they're just imagines of all the boys - that'd be awesome! Thank you!