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Shit. Maybe I can’t do this.
Max gripped the strap of her bag like an anchor around her shoulder as she stood outside of American Ink. Her heart was clattering with excitement in her chest. She had been wanting to get a tattoo for the longest time, a notion which mortified her parents. If they knew she was here, Max had no doubt they would banish her from their house forever.
But she was eighteen now after all, and feeling like a badass for getting a scholarship to a high school with a prestigious art program. She deserved this! She didn’t care what her parents thought, she told herself, despite the fact that she had shown up to the tattoo shop as soon as it opened, when she had suspected that there would be the least number of witne-customers around. She checked her phone and saw that it was barely past nine in the morning.
The silence around the shop and the surrounding area was peaceful, yet unnerving. She had barely slept last night, the anticipation keeping her up until the early hours. She had been in such a hurry to get to the shop that she had not considered asking anyone to come with her. The moral support would have been nice, but she barely knew anyone at Blackwell yet. She had thought about asking Dana, the pretty cheerleader who had directed Max to American Ink in the first place.
“Take a picture with that snazzy camera of yours, it’ll last longer,” she had said with a wink after catching Max staring at the butterfly tattoo on the inside of her hip. Max, slightly flushed and very flustered, apologized and Dana had laughed, letting Max have a better look at it. Max asked if she had got it around Arcadia Bay and Dana had happily referred her to the small shop, nestled between a truck stop and a used book store.
“And make sure you ask for Chloe!” she added. “She designed this one for me.”
Upon closer inspection Max noticed that the butterfly had very intricate markings, despite its small size. The detail was impressive and gorgeous, deep purple wings fringed with black and white spots, with lighter shades of purple in twisting patterns decorating the rest of the butterfly’s body. Max honestly had wanted to take a picture of it. Art like that belonged in a museum somewhere. Unfortunately she was already too embarrassed that she had been caught staring at Dana’s hips to ask for a photo.
It would have been weird anyway, Max convinced herself. She had barely known Dana for a week, and while she seemed pretty nice, Max didn’t want someone as cool as Dana Ward to see her cry or throw up or worse if things got ugly in there. A very real possibility. But she was already here, no backing out now. The flyer in the window which proudly advertised “Walk-ins welcome!” only beckoned her further. With one more deep breath, Max climbed the three stone steps leading up the the door and entered the shop.
There was no one at the service counter, the only sound coming from a stereo system playing soft rock beside a long leather couch. A coffee table littered with magazines and photo albums sat in front of it. A natural snoop at heart, Max decided to sit down and look through them. It looked like she had some time to kill anyway. She picked the thickest album and opened it.
The first page was a very realistic drawing of a skull, a bloody rose blooming from its forehead, the thorny stem protruding through the eye sockets and framing the skull in a twisted green border. This had to be a portfolio of one of the tattoo artists. This piece was a little too dark for Max, but the design was still pretty sick. The next page featured the cutest little cartoon panda, sporting a red headband and brandishing a gun in one pudgy paw. Was this one more her style? It occurred to Max that she had only a vague idea of what she actually wanted on her tattoo. Way to be a poser, Max, she berated herself internally. She actually did have a few sketches in her bag, small stuff, nothing fancy. Best to play it on the safe side in case she needed to hide it at family gatherings. Maybe this artist could help her flesh one out.
She kept flipping through the book, stopping at a page of smaller designs, little guns and guitars and scraps of lyrics. In the right corner was a purple butterfly, identical to the one she had seen so masterfully inked onto Dana’s skin. So this must be the infamous Chloe’s work. She really was talented, and versatile too. The design on the next page literally made Max’s eyes widen in delight. A deer, an alert doe with her ears pricked and one hoof raised cautiously, stood in a flurry of snow that swirled around her body.
“Yo!” a voice called out before Max could examine the drawing further, making her jump and whip around in her seat. Someone else who looked to be around Max’s age had just entered the shop. Tall, with aqua hair covered by beanie, wearing a red tank top that proudly proclaimed “SKATE OR DIE” in sketchy black lettering. Upon seeing Max’s expression she held up a free hand in a friendly wave. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you got in,” she glanced around the shop and then back to Max, “You didn’t happen to see my boss in here, did you? Kinda scruffy, scary dude with tattoos on his neck?”
“Ah…” Max was at a loss for words for a moment, as cool, pretty people usually didn’t talk to Max first. Or smile at her. “No, it’s just me.”
The other girl exhaled. “Good, Frank would kill me if he knew I left the shop unlocked for five minutes. But I had to get my fix,” she said, holding up some sort of iced coffee that she held in her other hand. “…So, can I help you with something?”
“Yeah, actually. I’m…here for a tattoo,” Max said with as much confidence as she could.
It was the punk looking girl’s turn to be surprised. “…Really?”
“Um…yeah…” Max said after a pause, brushing her bangs back from her forehead self-consciously. Crap, what did she say? What if she had read the sign wrong and this wasn’t even a tattoo place? She should have asked someone to come with her, she barely even found her way to the bus stop.
The blue haired girl smiled again, calming Max’s anxiety somewhat. “Sorry, you just…don’t really seem like the type, no offense. I thought maybe you just came in for directions or something,” she leaned against the back of the couch, looking Max up and down with great interest. Max tried not to blush at the girl’s striking blue eyes examining her so closely. “You got any on you? Tatts, I mean.”
Max rubbed the back of her neck. “Not yet, that’s why I’m here.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place,” the girl said excitedly, swinging her legs over the back of the couch and plopping herself down beside Max. “I can hook you up! What did you have in mind?”
Good question, Max thought to herself. She suddenly forgot every possible concept she had been considering, did she even have anything worth showing off? She really was a poser, and this girl could see right through that. Damn it, Max, focus! Play it cool, think of something. Out of the corner of her eye Max saw the photo album, still opened. Maybe she could…
“Dude, are you like…tweaking out on me right now?” Miss Blue asked with a mischievous look.
“No, I don’t…tweak,” Max said, not even sure if she was saying that right. Judging by the other girl’s vaguely amused look she guessed not. Smooth. Looking away, she hurriedly shoved the album in the other girl’s direction, pointing to the open page with the doe design. “Th-this one. Can I get this one?”
The girl pulled the album towards her to get a closer look. “Damn, seriously?” she said, her eyes lighting up. “You’re the first person who’s ever asked for that one. It’s, like, one of my best pieces.”
“It’s really awesome,” Max agreed sincerely, glad to move on before she could say anything else awkward. “So you’re Chloe, right?”
“The one and only Chloe Price,” Chloe’s eyes darted around the room shiftily. “I have a reputation around here, huh?”
Of course she would, Max thought, she definitely was the bad girl type. “I wouldn’t know, I just moved here for school. My, uh…one of my classmates recommended you to me. Dana Ward? That was such a pretty butterfly you drew on her, I couldn’t stop staring at it….that wasn’t a weird thing to say, right?” she ventured, mortification creeping over her again.
Chloe laughed. “Don’t sweat it. Just means I’m good at my job,” she looked back at the design on the paper. “So where are we getting this bad boy?”
Max blanked for a moment, another thing she had not considered. Easy to hide, easy to hide…
“Um…how about along my right side?”
Chloe smiled. “Perfect! Damn, I really was wrong about you. You’re hardcore, uh…fuck, what’s your name?”
“It’s Max.”
Chloe smiled and stood up, grabbing the photo album and waving it in the direction of the back of the store. “Right this way, Mad Max.”
Chloe led Max into one of the back rooms and shut the door. The room was sparsely furnished; there were two chairs, one of which was reclined and the other more of a cushion with wheels at the bottom, and a large dresser with various tools and disinfecting supplies. On the wall beside it was a shelf full of bottles filled with different shades of colored liquid. In front of the reclining chair there was a large mirror, presumably so that the person getting the tattoo could watch the action happen. There were no windows, which normally would have made Max a little claustrophobic, but not today. She was too excited about getting her kickass first tattoo, courtesy of one cute and cool punk rocker chick.
Cute?? Keep it together, Max.
“Welcome to Chloe’s Lair,” Chloe said with a flourish, walking over to the dresser and opening a few drawers. “Have a seat and get comfy. Oh, and lose the shirt.”
Orrrr not.
“Wait, what?” Max tried to stop the blush creeping across her face to no avail. Of course she had been expecting to show some skin, but she hadn’t counted on getting a cute girl working on her. Damn it, Chloe.
Chloe turned around, smirking. “C'mon, don’t be shy. I’m a tattoo artist, not a bikini contest judge. …Though that would be a pretty sweet gig.”
Her joking tone made Max somewhat less nervous. “I don’t exactly have a beach body, sorry,” she said, trying to play it cool despite her thumping heartbeart.
“Damn it. Well, I’ll try to live with the disappointment,” Chloe said, turning back to her tools. “Now strip, hippie, I don’t have all day.”
Seriously, was she doing this on purpose? Still, she couldn’t stand around blushing like a dork for the next century. She shrugged off her hoodie and then paused at the hemline of her shirt. She looked over at Chloe, who was still fiddling around with the ink and her tattoo gun. Max shrugged off the garment as inconspicuously as she could, and it dropped on the floor next to her hoodie with a soft thump. Chloe glanced over at the noise, then her eyes darted over to Max, their gaze meeting for a split second before Max turned away, another wave of heat spreading over her bare skin. Shit!! Was she looking oh my god.
Max quickly sank down in the reclining chair a little too hard, groaning as she did. Chloe sniggered, sitting on her spinning chair and wheeling over to Max. “I know you’re excited, but don’t hurt yourself.”
“Ha ha,” Max replied, adjusting herself so that she could sit up more comfortably. Chloe had taken off her jacket and Max caught a glimpse of the sleeve that covered her arm. “Wowser,” she breathed before she could stop herself.
Chloe smiled and raised an eyebrow, then followed Max’s eyes to her arm. “'Pretty sick, right? I designed it myself,” she adjusted herself on the stool so that Max could admire it closely. It was a good distraction while Chloe washed the skin on Max’s side, she could look at the pretty skull and not at Chloe’s stupid sexy face while her hands gently prepped the spot where Max’s tattoo would soon be placed.
“Are we happy?” Chloe asked after she had transferred the design onto Max. Max couldn’t stop the smile stretching across her face. This was really happening and it was so cool.
“Very,” Max confirmed.
“Sweet,” Chloe said, reaching for her tattoo gun.
Max eyed the instrument warily. “So um…do you think this will hurt a lot?”
Chloe shrugged. “Nothing you can’t live through. Do you have any experience with needles?”
Max thought for a moment. “Last year I had to get four shots in row after a rabid squirrel bit me,” she said, in tone of voice one would use to describe a typical life experience.
”Whoa, whoa, okay. I think I’m gonna need details on this one,” Chloe had been preparing to start the inking but she looked up to flash Max an encouraging smile. “I’ll listen while I work, okay?”
Max nodded, looking up at the ceiling while Chloe started tattooing. “Okay, so. All I wanted was afucking picture,” Max swore as she felt the needle begin to prick her skin. Oh yes, this was definitelygoing to hurt.
“You cool, Max?” Chloe asked, glancing up. “Don’t leave me hanging here.”
“Right…yeah,” Max exhaled a little shakily. “Well it was just. Sitting on a rock by the creek and it was the perfect shot, so…when I took its photo the flash scared the little guy bad and it…latched onto my arm. So my parents rushed me to the ER and I had to get four shots, two for rabies and another two as a safety measure for other infections.”
“Damn, girl,” Chloe said in disbelief. “You really are badass.”
“Hardly. I had nightmares about cute, fuzzy squirrels for a week after that.”
“And yet you still manage to survive at Blackwell. That place is crawling with the little fuckers.”
Max looked over at her in surprise. “How did you know I go to Blackwell?”
“You said Dana was your classmate, so I figured as much. I actually used to go there but I uh…kinda sorta got expelled.”
“One doesn’t ‘kinda sorta’ get expelled, Chloe,” Max smiled, wincing as the needle reached her reached her ribcage. It was a thrumming, jarring sensation that made her grit her teeth to keep from wriggling out of the chair. When Chloe didn’t elaborate, Max whined “Come oooon, I just told you a weird story. Now it’s your turn. Just how much hell did you give that asshole Principal Wells to kick you out?”
An impish grin spread across Chloe’s face, making the sharp stabbing sensation against Max’s skin more tolerable. “Oh, it was hella bad. Dude, listen to this.”
—-
“Okay, you have got to be making some of these up. Where did you even find twenty inflatable sharks to put in that pool?”
“Totally worth digging around Pool Emporium’s trash to see Icky Vicky and her minions’ faces. And this is all in my file, by the way.”
While the tattoo gun whirred Chloe talked about her exploits at Blackwell over the next hour, her elaborate pranks on the popular kids, her many instances of disrupting class to call out her male peers out on “misogynistic bullshit”, particularly one Nathan Prescott, and other general misbehaving. Chloe certainly knew how to get into trouble.
“My only regret is not trying to steal that cozy chair out of Wells’s office,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “I can’t stand the shit he lets Nathan and his asshole club get away with.”
“Tell me about it,” Max agreed. “I’m only there for the photography program, and I didn’t want to waste my scholarship.”
“You got a scholarship? Damn, your pictures must be hella good,” Chloe sounded impressed.
“I guess,” Max said, her stomach doing a little flip. “My photos are okay, I just…don’t have any direction. The only thing I seem to be good at is taking selfies.”
“I mean, with a face like yours, who could blame you?” Chloe didn’t look up, but she was totally grinning. Fucking shameless.
“Do you flirt with all your clients like this?” Max asked, feeling a bit brave with her adrenaline buzzing from getting tattooed. After two hours she had adjusted to the the prickling sensation of the needles, her skin feeling numb instead of the initial burning.
“Just the cute ones,” this time Chloe looked up to wink at Max, who rolled her eyes outwardly to combat the butterflies that anxiously nibbled at her insides.
After another hour and a half, Chloe did a final touch up on Max’s tattoo and let her get out of the chair to admire it in front of the mirror. Max was speechless, in disbelief that the doe looked even more gorgeous, not to mention bigger, on her skin than it had on paper.
“Whatcha think?” Chloe asked.
“It’s…it’s amazing, Chloe,” Max said softly, still not taking her eyes off of it. “Oh my god…” she said after a moment. She turned around to face Chloe a little too fast, ending up losing her balance. Her legs were shaking, partly due to the stress her body was feeling from the tattoo pain and partly from the glee of actually having a tattoo.
Chloe held out her arms and caught Max before she could fall, letting the smaller girl lean against her chest. “Shit! You okay, Max?”
Max looked up, frozen by Chloe’s wide blue eyes looking directly into hers. Max had to physically blink a couple times to stop staring at them. God, her whole face was so pretty from this angle. Get a grip, Max.
She held onto Chloe’s steady arms while she tried to stand up a little straighter.“I’m fine, I just…I can’t believe I have a tattoo now. I have a tattoo and it’s freaking awesome!”
Chloe’s face lit up. “Fuck yeah it is! Now you’re officially a rockstar,” she gently helped Max straighten her knees and they stood like that for a moment. Max suddenly remembered that her shirt was still on the floor and she was clinging to her incredibly attractive tattoo artist half naked, who surprisingly didn’t seem to mind.
“We, um. Better get you cleaned up,” Chloe said, with a shyness that surprised Max. She helped Max back into the chair, her fingers gently lingering on Max’s arm until she was safely seated again. “You might want this too,” she bent over and picked up Max’s shirt, examining it before handing it over to her. For some reason Chloe couldn’t meet Max’s eyes, but Max couldn’t help noticing the grin on the other girl’s face.
—-
“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? Maybe I should walk you back to your dorm or something.”
They were back in the waiting room, Max having just handed over her birthday money (Sorry, Mom,she had thought ruefully) to pay for the tattoo, as well as a nice tip. Chloe must have noticed her wincing as she walked out of the back room. Now that she wasn’t in the chair the tattoo was beginning to throb, making Max a little dizzy. It was so sweet how concerned Chloe was, her hand poised to steady Max if she needed it.
“I’m fine, really,” Max assured her. “Probably just low blood sugar.”
“Perfect, just in time for my break. Have you been to Two Whales yet? The belgian waffles are, like, orgasmic.”
Max smirked. “Sounds amazing, but…kind of late for breakfast, isn’t it?” Her phone read one-thirty when she had checked it a couple minutes ago.
“Not if you know the owner,” Chloe said with a wink. “C'mooon, I’ll treat you,” she wheedled, looking at Max with such an adorable eagerness that it was criminal.
“Okay, okay, we can go,” she never could resist a good puppy dog stare. “But just for the record, I’m more of a pancakes kind of person.”
“I’ll remember that,” Chloe said. “Aaand before I forget: phone, please.”
Max put her phone into Chloe’s outstretched hand, who tapped at the screen a few times before handing it back to her. A grin instantly broke out on her face at the sight of the new contact info.
“That’s my number. Buzz me if you have any questions about your tattoo while it’s healing. Or if you wanna show me some of your photos, need someone to show you around Arcadia Bay, bitch about life…go on a date…anything really.”
Max did a double take. “A what?!”
Chloe burst out laughing. “Sorry, I’m not very subtle. But then again, neither is your Tegan and Sara t-shirt.”
Max looked down at her shirt, then back to Chloe’s shit-eating grin and shook her head. She shoved the blue haired girl’s shoulder with her own as they both started walking out of the shop. “Buy me breakfast first, punk.”