Hidden Girl

40- Tattoos and Labels

I sit on a plane in the window seat. I have my photo album in my lap and I no longer cringe when I flip through it. Sebastian and I look through it and laugh at all the photos. I get over the fear that the most important person to me might hate me and I just smile at our memories.

I'm ready to head back to the place I love. I'll still keep in touch with my mom, so the only real concern is how my friends feel about my disconnection with them; especially with one boy in particular.

Azalea runs across what feels like the whole New York airport when we land. She runs straight into Sebastian's arms and they obviously have to have that passionate kiss for everyone to see.

I know they only had a make-out session at that one party. I did kiss Sebastian at Christmas though to try to make her jealous. As I think more about those days, I push away the memory of Alex kissing me at New Years as I hug the living daylights out of Azalea.

I stay in Azalea's house that first week back in New York. I call Mom every night and I spend my days painting or helping Azalea's dad get my gallery ready. We are moving fast and already getting excited for the opening soon.

"Hey, Azalea," I call out as I head down the stairs in her own house.

"Yeah?" I hear her call back from the kitchen. I head in to see her baking cookies. I take one off of the cooling rack.

"Um I was wondering if you would go with me downtown," I ask her innocently as I eat the delicious chocolate chip cookie.

"For what?"

"I wanted to get a tattoo," I say quietly as my face turns red.

"As long as it has meaning." Azalea smiles at my idea.

"It certainly does," I reply with a big smile.

...---...

Even after a couple days of having the tattoo, I'm still not used to it on my collar bone when I look in the mirror. I still look myself, with bags under my eyes and my hair in a messy bun. The three words show with most shirts I wear and I actually feel proud for having the guts to get it.

I see a motion in the corner of the mirror and I look up to see Azalea leaning in the doorway looking at me.

"Hey."

"Hey." She smiles back. "Um remember how you were going to that counselor?"

"Yeah," I say. "We've Facetimed a couple times this week."

"Good." Azalea smiles but she look sad; sad that I have to talk to a counselor to keep my head on straight. "Um I was just wonder . . . Sorry if this sounds rude, but like what exactly did she . . . I guess diagnose you with?"

"Well I have insomnia, I'm depressed and they labeled me as suicidal because of that incident." I put my hand on my stomach as I remember how hard it was to hold on then. "I lost weight for sure but they didn't label me with an eating disorder because it wasn't too severe."

"Just know that those don't define you," Azalea says with a small smile on her face. "No one can define you but yourself."

"Thanks." I smile back at her. "Thanks for being there for me."

"There's someone else who could be there for you," Azalea says with a dead serious look on her face. "You need to see him. He thinks you're still in England."

"That works."

"You guys are slowly killing each other, being apart like this."

"Then let me die!" I scream desperately as I look at her reflection in the mirror.

Alex has come over to Azalea's house twice and I purposely left both times. He shouldn't know I'm here. He's better off without having to worry about me.

If I see him, I might do something stupid like fall in love with him. Alex has something about him that makes me want more of him but he needs to be without me.

He's better without me.