Chapter 24
Jude
any plans today?
Oliver
I was considering doing laundry but it can wait until tomorrow
did you have something in mind?
Jude
as a matter of fact, I do have something in mind
can you be ready in thirty minutes?
Oliver
Jude my dude, I could be ready right now
Jude
good, I’m on my way
I knock emphatically on the door of room 319, hoping more than anything that Oliver will be the one to answer.
Max and Celeste are back home in Bellbridge today, visiting Max’s grandparents.
They invited me to tag along, but I declined.
I was never as close to Max’s family as Celeste is, and I figured I’d have a lot of studying to do this weekend anyway.
I never expected I’d actually be doing this.
The door swings open, and Oliver flashes me an eager smile. “Do I need to change, or am I dressed appropriately for our mysterious adventure?”
I glance up and down at his outfit. He’s wearing black joggers, a solid gray T-shirt, and a cozy-looking burgundy zip-up hoodie. His shoes, however, make me do a double-take—they’re iridescent Crocs. “Those shoes are insane, but otherwise, you’re fine.”
He peers down at his feet. “Insane for the activity, or just insane in general?”
“Insane in general. They’re fine for what we’re doing. Ready?”
“Do I need to bring anything?”
“Maybe your wallet.”
Oliver pats his pocket. “Got it. Let’s rock and roll.”
I roll my eyes before leading the way to the elevator. “God, you’re such an old white man.”
Once in the car and on the road, I notice Oliver’s knee bouncing.
“Nervous?” I ask with a smirk.
“I mean, a little,” he replies. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going, or is edging me part of the fun?”
“Gross choice of words,” I say through a laugh. “But sure, I’ll tell you so that you can decide if you want to join me.”
Oliver’s knee stills, waiting for me to continue.
I take a deep breath. “I’m getting my nostril pierced. I’ve wanted it for years, but my parents convinced me that no reputable company would hire me if I had visible piercings or tattoos. But I recently decided, fuck it, I want a nose piercing.”
“Oh, hell yeah!” Oliver exclaims. “Yeah, that whole no-piercings and no-tattoos thing is so outdated. No one gives a shit about that stuff anymore. It’s just a form of self-expression.”
“Exactly!”
“I’m a bit surprised, though,” Oliver admits. “Did you decide to do this on a whim?”
I nod. “Yeah, this morning.”
“Damn, I’m impressed.”
“Thanks! I figured it’s been too long since I’ve done something for myself like this.”
“Nice! You definitely deserve it.”
I grin. “Luckily, I had enough foresight to start withdrawing a little cash here and there in case something like this ever came up. Now I don’t have to worry about a tattoo shop showing up on my bank statements.”
“Why would it matter if it showed up on your bank statements?”
I hesitate. I guess Oliver doesn’t know this embarrassing bit about my life yet. “It’s my parents’ money,” I explain. “And I just don’t want a lecture about it.”
“Ah, I see,” Oliver replies. “Are they super conservative?”
“Yeah, and they’re practically looking for a reason to cut me off. This could just add more fuel to the fire.”
“That sucks,” Oliver says quietly.
“Yeah, and I know that I’m just delaying the lecture because they’ll definitely see it on Thanksgiving, but…” I shrug. “That’s a future Jude problem. Today, I’m throwing caution to the wind and getting that piercing!”
“Slay!” Oliver shouts, then immediately adds, “Sorry, I just spent the weekend around my younger stepsisters. Their Gen Alpha speech must have worn off on me.”
“I thought ‘slay’ was a Gen Z thing,” I counter.
“Who even knows, man. Kids are weird.”
I snicker. “So, are you interested in getting anything pierced? Or maybe even getting a tattoo?”
Oliver trills his lips. “You know, I have wondered if I’d look good with earrings.”
“Ooh, I think you would! Both earlobes?”
“Yeah, I don’t see the benefit of just doing one.”
“I think it used to signal to people whether you were gay or straight, but I think that’s another outdated stereotype.”
“Yuck. Yeah, I’d get them both done, for sure.”
“Nice!” As we slow for a red light, I turn to look at him. “So, we’re both getting poked today?”
Oliver presses his lips together thoughtfully, then peers at his reflection in the visor mirror. “Fuck it. I’m in.”
“Slay!” I shout, holding out my fist for him to bump.
“Slay!” Oliver echoes, bumping his fist to mine.
The tattoo shop is in an unassuming building in the middle of a strip mall.
The business name, “Ink About It Tattoo Studio,” is displayed over the entrance, along with a few neon signs advertising that they also offer piercings.
Inside, the walls are painted black but covered in framed photos and art pieces.
It smells like a strange mix of incense and cleaning supplies, but it’s surprisingly not off-putting.
There are a handful of other customers in the lobby, some actively speaking to a heavy-set bald man covered in tattoos behind the front desk, and others waiting on couches against the wall.
As for my “spontaneous decision,” I will admit I spent about an hour poring over Google reviews and Instagram accounts to find this place. It had the highest ratings for cleanliness, customer service, and helpfulness within the Atlanta perimeter.
“Welcome in!” the bald man calls to us from behind the desk. “Someone will be right with you!”
“Psst, Jude,” Oliver beckons me and tilts his head toward a flier on the wall. I come closer to read it: “Couple Piercings BOGO - Pay full price for one piercing, get a second piercing half off!”
Brows raised, I glance at Oliver inquisitively. “Couple’s Piercings?” I whisper.
Oliver shrugs. “A deal is a deal.”
I consider it. We could probably pass for a couple. I mean, would anyone even ask?
“Only if you’re comfortable,” Oliver adds, just as an employee with fiery red hair and half a dozen facial piercings approaches us.
“Hi, welcome to Ink About It,” she says with a friendly smile, her crystal dimple piercings catching the light. “I’m Bree! How can I help you today?”
I blank, anxiety wiping my mind completely. What the fuck am I doing here? This is stupid and reckless. I should leave.
“Hi,” Oliver steps closer to me and puts an arm around me. “We’re both interested in getting piercings today. Right, babe?”
Babe? My pulse quickens. Oh, so I guess we’re pretending to be a couple after all.
Bree’s grin widens. “Wonderful! Your timing is perfect because we’re having a Couples’ BOGO on piercings. What piercings are you thinking?”
“I’d like both earlobes pierced,” Oliver continues. “Does that count as one or two piercings?”
“We count it as one piercing, but you do have to pay for two studs, of course,” she replies, gesturing to the brightly lit, waist-high glass cabinets at the front. “And what about you, hon’?”
Shit. She means me. Snapping out of my daze, I swallow and take a breath. “My nostril. Please.”
“Awesome! I’ll just need your IDs to get the paperwork started.” Bree leads us to the front and retrieves two clipboards from behind the counter.
As we walk, Oliver keeps his hand pressed gently on my mid-back. “Is this okay?” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of my ear and sending a shiver down my spine.
I nod. “Yeah, sorry. Just nervous.”
“Do you have any allergies to metal, latex, soap, or other topical medications?” Bree asks as she hands over the clipboards.
“Not that I’m aware of,” Oliver says, taking them both and passing one to me.
“Same here,” I reply, fumbling for my wallet and pulling out my ID to hand to Bree. Oliver does the same.
“Perfect! Feel free to have a seat in the lobby while you finish filling those out, then we can pick out the jewelry.”
Oliver and I move toward an oversized black leather loveseat and sink into the cushions. The form is fairly straightforward, but my mind is put at ease when I see a field for “preferred name”.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Oliver asks softly.
I look up at him. His intense brown eyes are studying me, his brow furrowed with concern. I pat his knee reassuringly. “Better now,” I say with a smile. “Just a little freakout, but what else is new?”
“Did I cross a line or anything? If you don’t want to do the fake couple thing, we absolutely don’t have to–”
“No, that’s not what I was freaking out about at all. You’re fine.”
Oliver’s shoulders finally relax, and the little furrow in his brow vanishes. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure. And, hey, there’s no pressure to do any of this. We can leave anytime you want.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to leave without a new hole in my nose.”
He snorts. “I feel like there’s a joke in there somewhere.”
“I’m sure it’ll come to you.”
After completing our paperwork, we return to the front and peer into the display cabinet. There are dozens of colors, styles, and stones to choose from. I can’t even tell which piercings some of the pieces are for.
“Here are your IDs back,” Bree says, handing them back to us.
She picks up the forms and scans them, nodding.
“Perfect. So, for you, Oliver, since you’ve never had piercings before, I highly recommend titanium.
It’s the most hypoallergenic metal we offer, and completely free of nickel and other harmful irritants.
” She points down to a grouping of studs in the cabinet.
“The solid metal ball is $30, and the cubic zirconia stud is $40, but there are a few other colors and gems in there.”
Oliver stares down into the cabinet with a blank expression. “I have no idea,” he admits. He nudges me slightly. “What do you think, babe?”
I try not to snort at the pet name, despite how strange it sounds coming out of his mouth. “Hm,” I say, looking up at Oliver to picture it for myself. “I’m personally a fan of cubic zirconia, but I like shiny things. The solid metal look might be more your aesthetic.”