Read That Girl for Free Online

Greyhound. What the hell am I doing, riding with a perfect stranger to get a tattoo, with a broken arm, no less? My mind races over the last couple of hours spent with him and Alice. Nice grandson, funny, a US solider, and a heartbroken husband. These thoughts seem to calm me down a little. But still, what in the hell am I doing?
    “So, it’s your birthday, or was that a ruse to get free cupcakes?” Jeremiah breaks the silence as he fires the engine to life.
    My birthday. Yes, it’s my birthday, that’s what I’m doing. Who cares about the rest? I’m going to live this day up with cupcakes and a tattoo, Oh, and a broken arm.
    “No,” I reply, on the defense.
    “I’m teasing you. Calm down.”
    There’s something about his laugh I find easy to relax to. It reminds me of the time spent with Jazzy when we would both be off in our own little worlds working, and burst out with a random thought, action, or noise, and then both get sidetracked. Those times are my favorite to remember, and it’s ripping at my heart to feel even the slightest of those feelings with him on my birthday of all days.
    “What kind of ink are you going to get?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Your tattoo,” he says with a raised eyebrow.
    “Some birds.”
    “More specific?” he prods.
    “No, I just want some birds floating and flying in their own direction. Nothing patterned or predictable.”
    He nods. “I see. You have a wild heart.”
    “Naw.” That’s not it at all. “So, what are you getting?”
    “You’re really good at that, almost expert level, if I do say so myself.”
    “At what?”
    “Avoiding questions and changing the topic.”
    “So, where’s this tattoo shop?”
    “See, you did it again,” he points out.
    “I know. I know. Trust me, I’m an expert at a lot of things one doesn’t brag about, and I’m not proud of it, but glad to leave it all behind.” I peer out the windshield, scanning the street. “Where’s the tattoo shop? I know of one on McMillan.”
    He cringed. “Well, you can go there if you want herpes and gonorrhea. I’m taking you to a little classier place. Just about two more minutes, and we’ll be there.”
    “Then by all means, drive,” I reply.
    We travel in silence the rest of the way. His two minutes are more like fifteen, but it’s pretty scenery, and I keep mentally coaching myself everything is fine even though I’m off route. Jeremiah has been a complete gentleman this whole time. He turned up the radio a few miles back and is singing every single song that comes on. The man flat out sucks at singing, but bless him for giving it his all.
    A catchy tune comes, and I find myself swaying to its beat and wanting more of it, from the words the artist is singing to the captivating rhythm.
    The words leave my mouth before I even realize it. “What song is this?”
    “ Hall of Fame by The Script. It’s my favorite band.”
    “I like it.”
    I hear, ‘The world will never know my name… When every single piece of my past is officially so far behind, I can no longer haunt my inner core, that’s when I’ll know, I made it to my hall of fame…’
    Listening to the words, I find myself tearing up. ‘I’ll reach it or die trying…’ I repeat it over and over in my head until I almost believe the mantra, and that’s when I feel the truck come to a stop and notice Jeremiah staring at me.
    “You okay?” he asks, switching off the ignition.
    I can only nod as the song fades out, and secretly pray my mind can continuously replay those words for the rest of my days. It may just be enough encouragement to never give up.
    I reach for my door handle. “I’m fine. Let’s do this.”
    “Don’t let Sledge scare you. He looks like a fucking gremlin, but he’s a great guy. Trust me.”
    “Okay, if only you knew where I came from,” I say.
    “Let’s get your ass inked up.”
    “I’m not getting it on my ass,” I scream in horror.
    “I know. Let’s roll.” He opens the door to