“She’s too young,” he said. “Tats are forever, not the same as changing your hair color.”

“I got my first ink when I was younger than her,” Natalia said.

“That’s because your mom sucked and didn’t look after you properly,” Nick said, his eyes fixed to the computer screen. “You want her mom raising holy hell with the program? Those people have been good to you.”

“Oh, please,” Natalia shouted. “You don’t know! What, you got some sort of crystal fucking ball where you can see the future and shit?”

“Trust me, I know her type. I grew up around rich girls just like her.”

The fight escalated quickly from there. Kimmie thought about intervening, but she didn’t dare speak up, mainly because everything Nick was saying was spot-on. If she came home with a tattoo, her mother would lose her mind. It wasn’t just because she was Jewish and a tattoo would prevent her from being buried in a Jewish cemetery, but because her mother always said tattoos were low class and trampy. Two months ago, if you had asked Kimmie if she would ever get a tattoo, she would have scoffed at the notion. But that was two months ago, and Kimmie was hell-bent on going back home a totally different girl. It was just like Taylor Swift’s hit song: “I’m sorry, the old Kimmie can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, ’cause she’s dead!”

The most fascinating thing about watching Natalia and Nick fight was the escalation and sudden drop-off. At its peak the two of them were standing up facing each other dropping f-bombs like two nuclear powers at the end of days. They were so loud Kimmie was afraid someone might call the cops. At one point Natalia shoved Nick in the chest with both hands and he looked pissed enough to hit her. But he didn’t. Actually, it was her push that seemed to snap him out of it and the very next words out of his mouth were, “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m such an asshole. I straight-up love you.” Natalia followed suit and then the two of them started making out like crazy, which did get a little physical when he picked her up and sat her down on the kitchen counter, a shower of empty Red Bull cans raining to the floor. Kimmie was mesmerized by the spectacle and was sad when they carried their lovefest into the bedroom, returning ten minutes later as if nothing had happened at all.