Page 110 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

“You said you wanted something permanent,” Mara replied.

Birdie looked over at me in the back seat. “You don’t have to do this, Hen.”

I shook my head. “I want to.”

Without waiting for someone to talk me out of it, I pushed the door open and got out of the car, walking to the tattoo parlor’s door. There was a guy in a ball cap at the front counter, scrolling through his phone. At the sound of jingling bells, he looked up, seeming bored.

“Got an appointment?”

I shook my head. “Can I get a tattoo?”

He studied me. “You eighteen?”

“Do I look like I’m eighteen?”

“You drunk?”

“I wish.”

He shook his head, reaching under the counter, and then handed me a clipboard. “Fill this out, and then come back to my chair.”

Birdie and Mara whispered back and forth as I filled out the form, and when I was done, I turned to them. Birdie looked concerned, and Mara seemed annoyed.

“Look, I know you’re worried about me doing something impulsive,” I said, more to Birdie. “But people get tattoos all the time. And if I hate it in a year, I can put a black square over it. Okay?”

“But your job...” Birdie said. “It’s already on thin ice.”

“They don’t care about tattoos,” I said.

Birdie pressed her lips together, nodding. “If you’re sure this is what you want.”

I nodded. Then I followed the guy’s directions and sat in his chair.

“Do you know what you want?” he asked.

I nodded, reaching for my phone. I got out a picture and showed it to him.

He studied it for a moment and said, “I can do that.”

67

Tyler

I stared at the ceiling of the guest bedroom in Gage’s downtown condo, hearing hushed voices in the living room. I closed my eyes, wishing I had it in me to care who his guests were. But I didn’t.

I’d lost my job. Lost my apartment. Lost my girl.

My life was looking like a bad country song with no royalty income to go along with it.

And it wasn’t about the money—I had savings. I was willing to work hard until I found another good paying job. No, it was the way Hen looked at me and said with all certainty that it was never going to work.

I’d put my whole heart in her despite my fears and doubts. I was willing to work at it and fight until we found something we both liked. And if I was being honest, I would have done whatever it took to have her. Because I was back in Dallas now, and it didn’t feel like home anymore. Not without her.

The door to my bedroom opened, and I glared toward the light coming through the door. The first couple days Gage checked in on me, but after that, he let me have my space. I was about to tell him to go away, like a petulant teenager, but then I realized it was more than just him in the doorway.

Rhett was already moving to the big window wall, using a remote to open the blinds. Liv came to me, shaking her head exactly like our mother would. “When is the last time you showered and shaved? Up. Now.”

I threw my arm over my eyes to block out the light. “Why’s it matter?”

---