The Story of Us (11 page)

“It’s not random,” he scoffs, “It’s a
birthday breakfast.”

“My birthday is tomorrow,” I respond.
“But how would you know anything about my birthday
anyway?”

“I remembered.” He looks
offended for a brief moment, but then his eyes brighten again. “And
yes, I know its tomorrow.
But,
what I have planned will bring us well into the
morning hours, so technically today will run into your birthday. So
the celebration starts today.”

“Why would you plan anything for my
birthday? What if I had plans of my own?”

“You don’t.”

“But what if I did? What
if
Tyler
did?”

“He doesn’t.”

“How do
you
know?”

“Because I talked to him.”

“And he just said he had nothing
planned for his girlfriend on her birthday so go ahead and plan
something?” I ask, skeptically.

“Pretty much.” He shrugs.

“I don’t believe you,” I
insist.

“Okay… he said he was going to take
you out to dinner on Saturday night because your parents are coming
to take you to dinner on Sunday night on your actual birthday. So,
I said why the hell would she want to go out to dinner two nights
in a row? And he looked at me with that blank, dumb face that he
gets. I’m sure you know the one. And so I made another
suggestion.”

I’m speechless. Not over the
sentiment, but because there’s just so much wrong with that whole
statement. Why would he even ask Tyler what he had planned? Why
would he care? And why on Earth would Tyler let Craig take over and
plan something else? Instead of addressing all of the obvious
questions, I just ask one. “What was your suggestion?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise,” he declares,
handing me a bag and a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

I take both, but give him a skeptical
look.

“It’s not poisoned. I
promise.”

I take a sip of the coffee
and relish in it. Then, I open the bag. Two Danish pastries, one
lemon and one cheese. They’re my favorite, but I have no idea how
he knew that. I barely ever eat breakfast. I close the bag back up,
take another sip of coffee and then look right into his eyes. I
know I should say thank you, but I don’t. I’m waiting for an
explanation, something he could say that would explain this
behavior. He’s not my boyfriend. This is something a boyfriend
would do. Tyler should be here with my favorite breakfast, not
Craig. Then again, my actual birthday is tomorrow so Tyler wouldn’t
think to surprise me the morning before. Still, Craig should
not
be doing this. What
the hell is he up to?

“You hijacked my birthday.”

“Yepp,” is all he says in
return.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

I just look at him for a moment. We
look at each other. Then he jumps up off the bed, scaring me
half-to-death.

“Be ready by ten, princess!” he yells
as he leaves the room.

My mind instantly wanders to Tyler.
What does he think of all this? Why didn’t he put a stop to it? Is
he waiting for me to? Is he mad? I send him a text.

“Did you know Craig
hijacked my birthday?!”

He doesn’t respond right away, so I
figure he’s still sleeping, since it’s still early. I look over at
Hailey who seemingly went back to bed, but I know
better.

“Did you know about this?” I accuse
her.

She rolls over, facing my direction.
“I just found out last night. You know there’s no reasoning with
Craig. He has it all planned out. Might as well just go along with
it.”

“Is Tyler pissed?”.

“Honestly, he didn’t seem to care. I
mean, it’s not like Craig left him out of it completely. He’s still
invited.”

“Hailey, this is weird. I mean, it’s
weird, right? Tyler is my boyfriend. Why the hell is Craig throwing
me a birthday… thing? What is he planning anyway?”

“He wouldn’t tell me all of it. I only
know about the get-together later tonight. And yes, I agree. It’s
weird. But you’re going to love it.”

She rolls over again, to go back to
sleep, so I grab my things and head for the showers. When I get
back to my dorm, I see that Tyler texted back.

“I did. I’m sorry. Not
much I could do about it. We’ll have fun tonight though. Honestly
his plan is better than mine was anyway.”

I don’t know why it bothers me so
much, but it does. Tyler should be planning this. Or at least not
allowing some other guy to. It’s like he doesn’t even care. But at
the same time as I’m thinking that, I know it’s not the truth. The
truth is that Tyler is just such a good guy that he doesn’t even
realize there’s anything wrong with it.

As I’m getting ready, I wonder why
Hailey isn’t. I debate waking her up, but ultimately I decide not
to. Why do I need to be ready for ten o’clock on a Saturday morning
anyway?

Its nine forty-five when Craig knocks
on my door and I answer, still getting ready.

“You’re early,” I conclude, as I rush
over to my closet to grab a sweater.

“Fashionably so.”

“It’s fashionably late.”

“I’m not late,” he says,
confused.

“Forget it,” I tell him, rolling my
eyes. I grab my favorite bracelets off of my bureau and start
putting them on. “Where are we going and who else is
coming?”

“I told you it’s a
surprise.”

“Well, am I dressed okay?”

“No.”

I wasn’t sure how to dress so I kept
it casual, pairing jeans with heels and a long-sleeved black shirt.
I have a sweater to go over it because New England can be frigid in
November. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Should I be dressier
or more casual?”

“Neither. I just think you should be
wearing less.”

“Less?” I question.

“Yeah, less. Nothing
preferably.”

I sigh in defeat. “Let’s
go.”

He leads me out to his truck parked on
the street and helps me up into it. Why does this feel like a
date?

“Can you at least tell me if anyone
else is coming?” I ask him while he shifts gears.

“Right this second, no. It’s just us.
They’re coming later.”

“Craig, seriously, where are we going?
I’m kind of getting the impression that I’ve been
kidnapped.”

He laughs out loud at that. “Okay,
princess. I’ll give you a hint.”

I wait for him to answer, but his cell
phone rings and he answers the call instead. I try not to listen,
but our close proximity in the truck doesn’t give me much of a
choice.

“Hey Bean,” he talks into the
phone.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“When?”

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

“I promise,” he says
softer.

“Lexie, don’t cry. I’ll see you
soon.

I love you,” he says, hanging up the
phone.

I wait for some kind of an
explanation, but he just continues to drive. His mood seems to have
shifted though. He seems upset, or maybe sad. I wonder what I
should say, but I figure if he hasn’t tried to explain, it probably
means it’s none of my business. But I can’t help but wonder – who
is Lexie?

“You were gonna give me a hint,” I
remind him after we’ve been driving in silence for a few
minutes.

“Oh. Okay…” he trails off, thinking.
“You told me before that you wanted to do something crazy and have
fun.” He looks over at me with his usual smirk.

“I never told you that,” I
insist.

“You did.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“You did. You were pretty intoxicated.
But you still did.”

“Are you kidding me? You can’t take
that seriously. I was drunk!”

He doesn’t answer, only
laughs.

“Craig,” I plead, getting nervous.
“What on Earth are we going to do?”

He just laughs louder, getting a kick
out of my nervousness.

Chapter 9

He parks the truck in front
of what looks like an old factory. There’s a sign on the front of
it that reads, ‘SCARRED’ in big bold letters.
What is he getting me into?

“C’mon,” he urges, practically
dragging me along with him.

When he opens the door, I immediately
know what this place is. The smell of rubbing alcohol and stale
cigarettes overwhelm me and I turn around to bolt right back out
the door, but Craig catches me by my waist and holds on
tight.

“I’m not getting a tattoo! What are
you, crazy?”

“They also do piercings,” he suggests
with a smirk.

“No!” I hold firm.

“Okay, you don’t have to get anything.
I would never make you do anything you don’t want to do, princess.
In fact, I’m sure no one on this Earth could ever make you do
anything against your will.”

“Then why are we here?” I ask
skeptically, the panic slowly leaving my voice.

“I figured if you felt like being a
little crazy and wanted to get something, it would be my treat.
Your birthday gift. And if not, that’s fine too. I need to add to
mine, so you can watch if you want. It won’t take long.”

“I’ll watch. Then we’re out of here.”
I tap my foot and cross my arms.

He smirks at me and then walks away,
heading over to some guy who looks to be in his early thirties.
They bump fists and talk for a minute, but I don’t pay attention to
what they’re saying because I’m too busy studying the guy’s skin.
He has tattoos covering every inch, aside from his neck and face.
When I make eye contact with him, I notice how strikingly blue his
eyes are. Then I quickly turn my head in the opposite direction,
embarrassed that he caught me staring. I start to walk around the
shop, looking at the different drawings. Some are hung up on paper,
others are drawn right onto the walls. And they have books and
books of different tattoo ideas. I start to look through one and
actually see a couple I would consider… if I ever actually wanted
to get a tattoo, that is.

“You coming, princess?” Craig calls to
me.

I look up to see him and the
tattooed-covered guy making their way into a smaller room, so I
follow behind.

“I’m Jay,” the guy introduces himself
to me, holding out his hand.

“Hi. I’m Valerie.” I smile back,
taking his hand and shaking it.

In the smaller room, there’s a table,
a computer, and tons of designs all around us. I also notice a
trophy on the shelf, for tattoo artist of the year, first place.
The artist, Jay, notices me staring at it, so I make small talk.
“First place, huh?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you wouldn’t want
someone who only got second place permanently marking up your body,
right?” He chuckles.

“No. I guess not,” I respond, laughing
with him.

“It’s Val’s birthday,” Craig tells
Jay.

“No, it’s not,” I correct him. “It’s
tomorrow.”

Craig ignores my correction and
continues, “Don’t you think she should get a tattoo?”

“I’m not getting a tattoo,” I tell
them both.

“We also offer piercings,” Jay says,
mimicking what Craig said just minutes ago.

“No, thanks.”

“Are you scared of the pain?” Jay
asks.

“No. It’s not that. It’s just so…
permanent.”

“That’s the best part,” he argues. “A
lot of people don’t get tattoos because they think they’ll regret
them in the future. But how could you regret something you once
wanted? Something that reminds you of a specific moment in
time?”

I look up into his deep blue eyes and
see nothing but kindness and sincerity. Maybe I’m judgmental, but I
have to admit that I never would have thought a tattoo artist would
be so soft and easygoing. I would have expected someone more rough
around the edges and full of curse words. I guess sometimes people
surprise you.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” I
admit. “I don’t know what I’d get anyway though.”

“Whatever you like.” He shrugs, as if
it’s that simple. “Whatever you want, really. It’s all about
authenticity. Being yourself in a world trying to make you
something else. Not conforming. Not caring what people think. Being
unapologetically you and showing it off for the world to see. It’s
like saying to everyone ‘See, at one point in time I was brave
enough to express myself. Really truly express myself.’ And
nothing’s cooler than that.”

“Wow. I never thought of it that way.
You put quite the spin on it.” I smile at him.

“No spin, Valerie. I’m being honest.
That’s what tattoos are all about, at least for me. Other people
have deeper meanings, like your boy Craig over here.”

Craig narrows his eyes at him and
shakes his head so slightly I wonder if I imagined it.

“He’s not
my
boy,” I
mumble.