The blonde girl laughs to herself as she pats Natalie’s back. It’s a nice laugh, and it pulls me from my sour mood. I lean back against the cool bricks and reach for my cigarettes, but when her eyes follow my hands, I stop. It’s weird for me, but I don’t want to smoke in front of her. I smoke in front of everyone, and I normally don’t care who knows it.

Her eyes meet mine, and I feel myself get lost again in her soft features. “Are you sure you don’t want a tattoo?” I ask, wanting to fill the silence with her voice.

“I’m sure. There’s nothing I want on my skin forever. Nothing that means that much to me,” she says as she shrugs her tiny shoulders.

“That can’t be true. There must be something you love.”

The corners of her mouth lift into a tricky smile.

“Let me guess,” I say, feeling more flirtatious than normal. “You like music. You play the piano…”

She shakes her head.

“Okay…tennis?”

Her face twists into a scowl, like I’ve offended her.

“Cheerleading?”

“You’re terrible at this,” she teases me.

This small-talk-banter between us is natural but also strange. Like we’re both ignoring the fact that we’ve seen each other from afar for years, but this is the first actual encounter between us.

“Sorry,” I laugh. Looking at her for another long moment, I take another guess. “I bet you love to read.”

“There you go. I do love to read.”

“Ah-ha. I knew I’d get it.”

“You’re a little harder to guess,” she says, squinting her eyes at me.

“Not really,” I say, wanting a cigarette again.

She’s about to say something else when Natalie sits up. Her face has a little more color than before. “I think I can do it this time. I promise.”

“Let’s try this again.” I lead the two of them back into the shop, but I don’t miss how Blondie has a shy smile on her face as she passes me through the doorway.

2

Logan

The shop quiets down a little after midnight. Murph is still working on an arm piece, but there hasn’t been any new walk-ins since the girls. Natalie actually sat through the rest of her dolphin tatt, but not without crying and whining the whole time.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I sweep the floor around my station. I already know who it is.

Step outside. Let’s chat.

My shift is technically over, so I sneak out the back door without Murph even noticing. Hale is already out there, leaning against the wall across the alley. His shaggy blond hair is hanging over his eyes as he stares down at his phone.

Hale doesn’t look like your usual drug dealer. Maybe that’s how he’s gotten away with it for so long. He’s a trust fund brat like the rest of them, but instead of pursuing stocks and bonds or whatever it is that these kids do for money, he found something much more lucrative.