Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
They were super cool about it. Even my dad smiled and said, “That’s what being your age is all about. Wing the crap out if it. Figure it out as you go.”
So I’m winging the crap out of it.
After closing my textbook, I swivel around on my desk chair. The little desk is pushed against the left wall while a bunk bed consumes most of the cramped space. The Philly townhouse in the Rittenhouse-Fitler District is astronomically smaller than my childhood home, but I don’t mind. Plus, I get to room with Sulli, and we rock-paper-scissored for the top bunk. She won—no surprise there. She is a champion.
My phone beeps on the desk, and as soon as his name pops on the screen, I quickly check the text.
👋In PA. Heading to the townhouse with Beckett. Bringing the sketch for the tattoo with me. You wanna see it? 😎🤟– Donnelly
I stare at the phone for an extra-long second, fully aware that Donnelly and I don’t text too often. The black ink on my arm catches my eye. Along the soft skin of my forearm, lyrics from “Dreams” by The Cranberries are tattooed in Farrow’s handwriting, one of my favorite songs and one of my favorite tattoos. I have a couple other ones.
All Donnelly’s exceptional work.
Lately, I’ve had this idea of a more complex tattoo. Whenever I’m super anxious, I’ll trace the letters Donnelly inked on my forearm, and I thought about a tattoo that can be more interactive. One that calms me during those days where I feel like I’m falling and it hurts to stand, so I sent Donnelly a text about a week ago.
Do you think it’s possible to do a fine line tattoo? Only black ink. I want to be able to color it in with marker. Like a coloring book on my body. I heard it can be calming. I’ll pay ofc. Thank you no matter what you decide 🖖👽💚otherworldly regards, wannabe alien Luna
A week ago, he didn’t hesitate to reply to that initial text. He responded within two minutes.
Can do 👍 let me know more details. I’ll draw up a design. I should have it ready next time I see you 👊 at your otherworldly service, ass-kicker humanoid Donnelly – Donnelly
He has it ready.
Now.
I reread his most recent text like I imagined it. There were so many reasons I thought Donnelly would say he couldn’t. So many reasons why I thought he might brush me off in the end. His tattooing style is American traditional with bold black outlines and vivid colors. Fine line isn’t exactly his wheelhouse, but I’ve always loved his art ever since I saw him sketching on the tour bus.
I’m not sure I trust anyone other than him to do it.
Going to a tattoo shop and being recognized as Luna Hale—Daughter of a Sex Addict & Alcoholic—has felt like a crash landing onto the moon. Certain disaster will ensue. Like headlines where Celebrity Crush speculates what I got inked and where.
Sometimes I let the background noise of media and internet trolls go.
Sometimes it stays a little longer, like a buzzing against my ear, and it feels odder when my body is the focal point of the obsession.
Having Donnelly tattoo me is private and secret and mine before it’s anyone else’s, but I also know he lives in New York. He could’ve said no because of the time or travel. It’ll take multiple sessions to fully ink.
More likely, he could’ve said no because of my strict dad, who wasn’t happy about the other tattoos.
He said he would.
He’s coming over.
Now.
I want the tattoo—more than anything. But I also know I might be putting him in more hot water with my dad.
He’s already coming over, Luna. Inner-me is so very smart. It’s not like Donnelly is coming here specifically for me. He’ll already be here because he’s Beckett’s bodyguard.
Sulli and Beckett are best friends. I’m sure they’re doing some friend thingie tonight.
And if Donnelly is willing to take the risk…
I take a deep breath and type out a reply. 1000% still want to see it. Thanks a million, ass-kicker humanoid. I include a couple star emojis. Not thinking much longer, I just hit send.
His response is quick.
See ya soon – Donnelly
Popping up from my desk chair, I toss a few empty Fizz cans in the trash. The room is casually messy. Not like a hurricane came through. Just a light thunderstorm. Some T-shirts splay over the top bunk (Sulli’s old camp shirts), and running shoes are piled near the dresser (Sulli’s shoes). Weights are tucked under my bed (Sulli’s way-too-heavy-to-lift weights).
Until right now, I haven’t really noticed that most of the mess belongs to Sulli. This just makes us the perfect roommate match. She can be her messy self all she wants with me. I begin to smile.