Cheap Shots

00:12

UNEDITED

12.

“I can’t believe you only got vanilla!”  Beckett whined again.

            “You’re the one that thinks chocolate is better!  That’s disgusting.  How can you sit there and eat that?”  Beckett’s eyes shifted over to me as I dipped a fry into my shake and bit off the end.  He scrunched up his nose in repulsion so crease lines formed on his forehead.  “That gives you wrinkles,” I warned.

            He rolled his icy blue eyes, “Like I care about wrinkles.  I’m not a girl.”

            “You should, no one wants to marry someone with wrinkles.”

            “Maybe I don’t want to get married.”

            “Finally something we can agree on,” I said as I placed another fry in my mouth, leaning back so the soft red diner seats were resting against my back.

            “You don’t want to get married?” He asked, shocked.  “I never said I didn’t want too, I was messing with you.”

            Shrugging my shoulders, I picked up another fry.  “I haven’t really thought about it, I guess.”

In my half-drunken state, my mind wandered to the tattoo filled biker that happened to walk through the diner doors.  “Manno.”

“Smith?”

“Are you eighteen?”

“Yes.” He said, his eyebrows furrowing together, “Why?”

“Because I want to do something slightly crazy.”

“What?” He asked, looking marginally worried now, his milkshake and fries long forgotten as he stared at me with a blazing curious intensity.

“I think it’s finally time to get that tattoo I wanted.”

“That’s insane.”

“But is it?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

“Yes!” He said again, louder this time, raising his hand and almost spilling his mostly empty milkshake on himself.  “Ask anyone.”

“Excuse me, sir!” I yelled a little, calling over to the biker I saw beforehand.  He looked over at me, his beard the only thing I could really focus on, and started walking over; the loud click of his heeled boots sounding against the tile floor.

“Sir,” I began, to which he grunted.  “Do you think it would be crazy for me to get a tattoo, tonight?”

His green eyes looked over from me to Beckett, and he brought a hand up to run through his graying hair.  “I don’t think so, what do your parents think about it?”

“They’re completely on board.  Very relaxed,” I lied.

“Than I say go for it, I’ve got to go order, have a nice night.”

“Thanks!  You too!”

“Are you serious?” Beckett hissed when he was gone.  “He could have fucking raped you in the diner bathroom!”

“But he didn’t,” I told him.

“You’re actually insane, holy shit, I can’t believe I didn’t realize it until just now.  You belong in a mental hospital!”

“Oh, come on!  Where’s the fun Beckett?”
            His angry face quickly vanished and he looked like he’d just seen a ghost.  I gave him an inquisitive look and he started to talk.  “I think that’s the first time you’ve called me by my first name.”