Page 42 of Defend Me

“She’s a big part of the law school there,” she informed me in a sterner voice. It was one she could easily pull out when she was destroying someone for the benefit of whatever corporation she was representing. Generally, they’d wronged the person somehow, but hey, at least my parents made ass loads of money while they crushed people beneath their designer-clad feet.

“I know.”

“You need to network, Brooks. Once you graduate, you’ll be working under us, but you still need to build relationships and that starts now…”

I continued to listen to her, but I retreated from active consciousness. Mindlessly, I reached into my nightstand drawer. What I pulled out was cool to the touch, the metal smooth. It sent goosebumps down my arms.

Since I was wearing basketball shorts, it was easy to lift the leg to reveal my thigh. There were some marks there that were still a little red from the last time she called.

I trailed the tip of the needle over some of the fresher ones. They didn’t hurt much, but it was enough to make me wince. After I sterilized it, I grabbed a small jar of ink and set it up.

I pressed it against the skin on my thigh, then pushed it in. It used to draw an involuntary sound from me. Now, nothing escaped my lips, nothing to betray me and alert my mom to anything, not that she’d notice either way. She’d probably just keep talking.

I was silent as it pushed into another part of my skin right next to it. Silent, unreadable, the perfect mask to present to the world.

Pain didn’t matter. Exhaustion, sadness, loneliness…

All of that shit had to be tucked away. They weren’tacceptable. They would affect how people saw us. It would tarnish our reputation. Clients would question our competence if we had the audacity to be human rather than ice cold robots that did their bidding and saved them from lawsuits that they’d earned.

“She’ll make sure you meet the right people,” Mom finished.

“I’ll meet with her. You’re right. Thanks for helping me out.”

“We’ll always support you, Brooks.” Her voice had softened, but the words didn’t do anything for me.

Support only went so far with them. When things weren’t about business, like during winter break, I loved being with my family. They were exciting and fun. During those times, I found myself wanting to spend more time with them.

Otherwise, they were like this. If I wanted to do anything else with my life, they’d throw support to the wind.

They’d be on my side as long as I did what they wanted. They’d applaud me for chasing my dreams if they aligned with their own. They would make sure I had everything I could ever want- if I became them.

“I’d really like it if you went to get your hair cut,” she went on.

My teeth ground together. “I’m sure she won’t care about it.”

“Brooks, we’ve talked about this.”

“And I told you I’d cut it before I graduate.”

She sighed loudly. “Well, you know how we feel about it. There’s really no point holding onto some hair.”

“It’s just hair,” I said as calmly as I could.

“That’s exactly my point.”

“Yours is long.”

“You know that’s different.”

I wanted to ask how, but it wouldn’t do any good. “I’ll let you know how the meeting goes.”

I ended the call and looked down at the shape I’d started the other day. In my head, I’d seen a crescent moon. Right now, it was only some linework. The constant throb as I cleaned off the needle helped me gain some clarity.

When I was done, I ran my fingers over the new ink. I liked when the skin was still raised. The feeling of the marks as I caressed them was like skimming my fingers over the pages of a book with beveled edges. I loved those.

It was art, regardless of what caused it. Maybe that made it more meaningful or something. The precision of it, followed by the pain, was comforting, especially when I had conversations like that with my parents. It was also something they wouldn’t approve of, but they couldn’t see it. It was an imperfection, a flaw in the perfectly crafted replica of them. They couldn’t do a single fucking thing about something they weren’t able to discover. In a way, it made them powerless. Without even knowing it, they were flawed too.

As long as things stayed put together everywhere else, I could keep this.

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