Melissa Marr - Ink Exchange

Better to be tired than sold, though.

But tired meant forgetting to control her words. Her cattiness slipped out after school while she and Aislinn were waiting for Rianne to finish meeting with a counselor. Apparently, a private counselor wasn't quite enough intervention; Rianne's mother had notified the school as well, and Sister Isabel had waylaid Rianne at the last bell.

Aislinn was watching up the street. She had folded her arms, one hand resting over the thick gold band on her upper arm. Leslie had seen it when they'd changed for PE. Now it was hidden under Aislinn's shirt. What's she doing that she's getting all these baubles? Leslie didn't think Aislinn was dumb enough to be trading herself for money, but lately it seemed that Keenan's wealth was in Aislinn's hands.

Without thinking it through, Leslie said, "So are you watching for the second-string boy-toy or the starting player?"

Aislinn stared at her. "What?"

"Is it Keenan's or Seth's turn to take you home?"

"It's not like that," Aislinn said. For a brief moment, it looked like the air around her shimmered, like heat rising off the ground.

Leslie rubbed her eyes and then stepped closer. "I'd rather believe it was like that than that you're letting Keenan use you because he's got money." She squeezed Aislinn's arm where the bracelet was. "People notice. People talk. I know Seth doesn't like me, but he's a good guy. Don't screw it up because of blondie and his money, okay?"

"God, Les, why does everything have to be about sex? Just because you gave it away so easily—" Aislinn stopped herself, looking embarrassed. She bit down on her lip. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"Like what?" Leslie had been friends with Aislinn since almost the moment they'd met, but friends didn't mean she told Aislinn everything, not anymore. They were close before, but these days Leslie needed barriers. She didn't know how to start the conversation she'd needed to have for months now. Hey, Ash, do you have the handout from Lit? By the way, I was raped, and I have these hella-awful nightmares. She was holding it together, planning to move away, to start life all over again—and when she imagined trying to talk about it, about the rape, she felt like something was ripping her apart. Her chest hurt. Her stomach clenched. Her eyes burned. No. I'm not ready to talk.

"I'm sorry," Aislinn repeated, gripping Leslie's arm with an almost uncomfortably warm hand.

"We're cool." Leslie forced a smile to her lips and wished these emotions would fade away. Numbness was increasingly appealing. "All I'm saying is that you've got a good thing with Seth. Don't let Keenan ruin it."

"Seth understands why I spend time with Keenan." Aislinn bit down on her lip again and glanced back up the street. "It's not what you're saying, though. Keenan is a friend, an important friend. That's it."

Leslie nodded, hating that they couldn't really talk about their lives, hating that even her closest friendships were filled with half-truths. Would she look at me with pity? The idea of seeing that in Aislinn's eyes was awful. I survived. I am surviving. So she stood there, waiting with Aislinn, and switched the topic to one where they could both be honest. "Did I tell you? I'm finally getting my tattoo. I got the outline already. One more session— tomorrow— and it's done."

Aislinn looked somewhere between relieved and disappointed. "What did you pick?"

Leslie told her. It was easy to remember: she could see the eyes staring out at her, could picture them without trying. The more she thought of her art, the less tense she felt.

By the time Seth strolled up the street to meet Aislinn— looking like a walking advertisement for how hot facial piercings could be—Leslie and Aislinn were having a comfortable conversation about tattoos.

Seth draped an arm around Aislinn's shoulders and gave Leslie a questioning look. One pierced brow raised, he asked, "You got ink? Let's see."

"It's not finished." Leslie was barely able to contain the shiver of pleasure at the idea of getting the rest of it, but the thought of showing anyone felt surprisingly not-appealing. "Show you in a few days."

"Rabbit must have been pleased. Virgin skin, right?" Seth got a faraway smile on his lips and started walking, moving in that easy lope that was the only speed at which he seemed to do anything.

"It was. I got the outline last week." Leslie moved faster to keep up with Seth and Aislinn, who'd kept pace with Seth without pause, seeming as oblivious as he was. They had a synchronicity that came from truly fitting together. That's how it's supposed to be: relaxed, good. Leslie wanted to believe that someday life would be like that for her too.

Aislinn held Seth's hand and steered the two of them through the people passing on the street. As they walked, Seth talked a bit about friends' tattoos, about the shops up in Pittsburgh, where Rabbit did the guest-artist gig sometimes. It was one of the most enjoyable conversations Leslie had ever had with him. Until recently, he'd been terse with her. She hadn't asked why, but she suspected it had something to do with Ren. Seth wasn't very tolerant of dealers.

Guilty by association. She couldn't really blame Seth: Aislinn was too gentle to be exposed to Ren's crowd. If Seth thought being friends with Leslie would put Aislinn in danger, he'd have reason to disapprove. She shook off the thought, enjoying the banter with Aislinn and Seth.

They'd only gone two blocks when Keenan and Niall stepped out of a doorway. Leslie wondered how they'd known Aislinn was passing at that moment, but the awkward silence that came with Keenan's arrival made questions feel unwise.

Seth tensed as Keenan held out his hand to Aislinn and said, "We need to go. Now."

Niall stood to the side, watching the street. Aside from a curt hello to Seth, Keenan behaved as if he and Aislinn were the only two people there. He didn't look at anyone or anything other than Aislinn, and the way he looked at her was much the same as the way Seth did: like Aislinn was the most amazing person he'd ever seen.

"Aislinn?" Keenan made a weirdly elegant gesture with his hand, as if to direct Aislinn to walk in front of him.

Aislinn didn't respond or move. Then Seth kissed her briefly and said, "Go on. I'll see you tonight."

"But Niall …" Aislinn frowned as she glanced from Niall to Leslie.

"There's a guest in town. We need to find him. …" Keenan shoved his hair away from his face, elegance gone as quickly as it had arrived. "We should've gone hours ago, Aislinn, but you had your classes."

Aislinn bit her lip and looked at everyone. Then she started: "But Niall … and Leslie … and … I can't just leave them here, Keenan. It's not … fair."

Keenan turned to Seth. "You can stay with Niall and Leslie, right?"

"Planned on it. I got it, Ash. Just go with Sunshine" — Seth paused and gave Keenan a friendly grin that seemed at odds with the situation—"and I'll see you tonight. We're cool." He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and let his hand linger there, his palm resting around Aislinn's cheek, fingertips against her ear. "I'll be fine. Leslie will be fine. Go on."

When Seth stepped back, Keenan nodded to him and took Aislinn's hand. Whatever those three had going on was decidedly weirder than Leslie wanted to know about, and Niall's studious observation of the street was starting to make her feel angry. He hadn't even acknowledged her presence. The few moments of easy friendship with Aislinn and Seth didn't mean that she wanted to be caught up in whatever their drama was. "I'm out of here, Ash. I'll see you at sch—"

Aislinn put her hand on Leslie's wrist. "Could you hang with Seth? Please?"