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She has a tattoo. An actual, permanent tattoo, etched into her ivory skin. And she never told me. Three years we’ve been dating, three years, and I didn't know.
The tattoo is small, centered in between her shoulder blades. It’s a delicate pattern, white lines weaving in between each other. There are two black dots at the two intersections, standing out proudly and adding a bit of balance in the tattoo. It is delicate and matches her well, with her slim frame and polite personality.
We are currently at a beach party surrounded by her friends and my own, how many people here know about it? Did she tell all of them?
I’m watching Amy play volleyball from the top of the sand dunes. She’s in a bikinI with a sheer towel wrapped around her waist. Her feet are bare with small specks of sand covering her pastel blue toes. Her pale skin is blushed at her shoulders and cheeks. Long red hair is tied back in a high ponytail on her head and cascading down her back.
Amy is the best girl to be paired with in beach volleyball. It’s her favourite sport, her parents always played it with her when they went to the beach, or so i’ve been told. Amy is very competitive and is always in to win. She has memorised the rules and perfectied the moves, even knowing a few cheat things. Even now her brow is furrowed in concentration, trying to predict the opposing team's next move. She jumps about the court, saving the ball over and over again. I watched the tattoo, mesmerized, as her shoulders moved when she jumped about the court.
“Y’know, the way you’re staring at her is kinda creepy, right?” Stephanie’s voice broke me out of my thoughts.
“Sorry, I just never noticed that tattoo before” I replied. I looked up at Stephanie and she was giving me a confused look.
“Really?” She asked “I thought everyone knew about it. Weird” she sat down next to me, resting her arms on her knees “All our friends were in uproar about it. She had got it done when she was high one time.”
“Hold up, Amy’s been high?” I squeaked. How much do I not know?
“Ah, no, I shouldn’t be telling you this” Stephanie mumbled and moved to stand up.
Before I could stop her Amy called out to me “ Mel! Come play with me!” Her french accent carried up the beach.
“Okay, 1 sec!” I shouted back. I turned back to stephanie but she had already gone back to sitting with her boyfriend at the food table, lips glued together.
~$~
We are walking back to her house, the sun setting behind the polished houses. I have Amy on my back, her breaths brushing my neck. I’m not wearing any shoes, my feet hurt but I don’t wanna put her down, her weight is comforting. My mind keeps wandering about the tattoo, why hadn’t I seen it, I have seen her in less yet I have never noticed that tattoo. After the conversation with Steph I didn’t manage to ask Amy about it, she would either be talking to much or someone would drag her away. Now seems like the perfect time but I can’t seem to bring myself to do it. What Steph had said, it makes my worry about what she isn’t telling me.
“Do you want to know?” Amy’s voice startled me, I thought she had been drifting off.
“What?” I asked dumbly.
“You know, the tattoo” Amy mumbled, I could feel her lips moving against my neck. “I don't mind telling you”
There was a moment of silence then I offered “Only if you want to” and she told me.
Amy told me about how the year after high school she had a ‘bad patch’. Amy had realised she had followed the rules all her life, she walked on the right side of the hallway, she went to after school study groups even helping out at every charity event that came her way. People called her ‘Amy the Angel’, she would get teased but that never really bothered her.
Then, a couple of weeks after leaving school, she had a date with this guy, at the time Amy thought he was awesome. This guy, Mike, had a motorbike, leather jackets and loved Bon Jovi. Mike was the sort of guy you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alleyway. After the first date Mike said something to Amy that flicked a switch in her head. Mike said “Y’know, baby, you’re real sweet an’ all but it's a bit too much y’know. You need to loosen up more”. Loosen up more.
Amy took this personally, she thought people loved her for what she did, Amy thought she was perfect. But not to the guy that had stolen her heart. So Amy tried all she could to ‘loosen up’. She met his friends, all the same sort of person, and didn’t say no. They took advantage of her and made her do things that her mother nearly fainted to.
Amy took drugs, not bad drugs, enough to affect her judgement. In that state things happened that she hates to remember and things she doesn’t. She remembers the parties full of drunken men and high women. She remembers faces, some old and scarred, some young and innocent. She remember one night they sped down a motorway, 100 mph, her hair flipping in the wind, her heart beating so fast it felt as if it might burst out of her chest. Someone had died that night. This consumed her life for three months.
The day her parents found out, Amy claims is the worst day of her life. Worse than her childhood dog dying. She had come home high, normally she stays out long enough that it dies down but this time she had taken more than usual. She had stumbled in and thrown up all over her parents. She fell to the floor. Their worried shout thumping against her skull. The next thing she remembers is being in hospital. Her parents in the corner, her mum crying into her father's shoulder, his eyes were full of disappointment. The doctors had said something but she wasn’t listening, all she could think about is how much she had let her parents down. Let herself down.
When Amy left the hospital her parents sat her down and she let everything out. She had cried with her parents, her mum had paled with tears streaming down her face. Amy went to meetings to help get over this, forced to speak about her feelings. She had met a few of her current friends there. She also lost a few old ones in the process. She rid herself Mike’s contact and her parents had put on a restraining order on him. She never heard him from since the night she came home anyway.
“The tattoo now acts as a bad reminder of that time,I usually cover it with makeup,” Amy’s voice was now shakier than before “It was two years ago and I can still feel my mother's judging gaze at dinner”
I didn’t say anything once she had finished. The whole story was a shock to me, I had never considered Amy had that sort of past. With the way she speaks to the way she lives. Amelia Bonnet isn’t that kind of girl.
“I like it,” I say finally “It suits you, it's,” I pause in thought “Delicate” I say finally.
“I hate it” Amy mumbles and I can feel her pout.
“Don’t, it's a battle scar, it shows you’ve survived through a hard time. Just, don’t add any more for a bad reason” I stop, looking over my shoulder at her. Amy just stares at me for a moment then nods and I grin back at her. “Right then, let's get you home”
I hoist Amy further up my back and she squeals with glee as I galloped her home.