Tell Me Pretty Lies - Charleigh Rose Page 0,16

area, which means everyone congregates here. It’s pretty much the only other thing to do in town besides the beach. It’s also a pre-party meet-up point, and my guess is they’re all about to head out to some college party.

Valen cuts the engine and we both hop out of her car, making our way toward the brightly lit shop. Just as we’re approaching the building, Thayer, Holden, and Christian come out of the convenience store next door. Thayer sees me first, his eyebrows tugging into two angry slashes. Holden notices the shift in his demeanor, and he follows his gaze. Amusement flashes in his eyes, as he says something I can’t hear. Christian’s the last one to catch on, barely acknowledging us with a glance.

Lovely.

“Ignore them,” Valen says from my left.

I tear my gaze away from Thayer and walk up to the sidewalk. The door chimes when we walk in, and a guy with a Celtics jersey and arms full of colorful ink greets us.

“What can I do for you?”

“We have appointments for Valen and Shayne,” Valen supplies.

“Right on. I’m the piercer here, so you’ll be with me. Name’s Nate. I’ll need your ID’s and you’ll both need to fill out everything on these forms,” he says, pulling out two clipboards from behind a counter. He hands one to each of us, and I scan over the consent form, feeling a slight rush of excitement. “I’ll be ready for you in just a minute,” he says, and then he’s disappearing into one of the back rooms.

“What did you decide on?” I ask as I fill in my information and pull my license out of my back pocket before clipping it to the board.

“Nose,” Valen says, pointing to her nostril. She’s not going to be eighteen for another couple of months, but she has fake ID. Because, of course, she does.

“Hoop or stud?”

She twists her lips together, seeming to consider it. “Stud. What about you?”

The door chimes again before I can answer, and even before I turn around, I know it’s Thayer. Sure enough, he and Holden walk inside, surveying the place.

“I think you’re in the wrong building,” Thayer says. “The Chuck E. Cheese is on the next street over.”

I turn back to Valen, pretending like they’re not here, and touch the shell of my ear. “I’m thinking about getting a little hoop up here. Or maybe an industrial.”

Valen crosses her arms over her chest. “We did not come here to get something you could’ve gotten when you were thirteen, Shaynie Baby.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. My bellybutton then.” I like the idea of having a secret piercing. Something I can hide easily.

“Way to live life on the edge,” Thayer deadpans.

I whirl around, pinning him with a glare. “I don’t remember asking you.”

Nate, the piercer, walks back out, nodding his head at Thayer and Holden. “Getting a touch-up?” he asks, directing his attention to Thayer.

He has a tattoo?

Thayer shakes his head in answer.

“We’re with them,” Holden says, flicking his chin toward us.

I roll my eyes, handing Nate my clipboard.

“Birthday girl?” Nate asks, glancing down at my license.

“Yep.” I rock back on my heels, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“Happy birthday then. Who’s up first?”

“Me,” Valen announces, holding her clipboard out for him to take.

“All right, brave girl. Pick out your jewelry.” He gestures to a glass counter display with all kinds of different jewelry, along with the shop’s merch in the form of stickers, beanies, and t-shirts.

The two of them walk over to the counter and I follow suit. While Nate shows Valen the nose ring options, I browse all the different types of jewelry. Some, I don’t even recognize. I snort when I see a curved bar with a Playboy Bunny dangling from the bottom.

“You’d be surprised how many people still get those,” Nate says, smirking. “Mostly divorcees in their thirties or early forties with a newfound wild streak.” He winks.

“I’m not judging.” I laugh. To each their own.

Once Valen settles on a dainty, little nose ring, the two of them disappear into a piercing booth somewhere down the hall. I scan the jewelry some more, my eyes stuck on something in particular. Two somethings, specifically.

“You’re too scared,” Thayer says from behind me, his voice next to my ear, and I jump, not realizing he was so close.

“No, I’m not.” I swallow hard, feeling him move in closer.

“Liar,” he accuses.

“Don’t act like you know me,” I grind out.

“Oh, but I do. I know that secretly, what you really want are those,”

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