I meandered downstairs, swinging on the wooden railing. Neither Mom nor Dad looked up when I gave a swing that was too large and crashed head first over the railing. Groaning, I picked myself up off the floor, wincing at my thigh, which I was sure must be bruised.

Mom looked up from her graphic novel long enough to ask, "You okay, honey?" "Just fine," I growled. "I'm going out." With that, I turned and stalked out the door.

I found the tree that I propped my motorcycle beside last night and mounted it. I knew it wasn't exactly safe to drive in skinny jeans, and definitely not in heeled boots, but I didn't care. I fired up the engine and shot out into oncoming traffic.

Dodging the mid-afternoon travelers, I drove quickly to the tattoo parlor. I passed building after building on the way, each more rustic and beautiful than the next. Truth be told, I'd never even thought about getting a tattoo before. Cassie had several curling around her collarbone. Now that she'd asked me to, I had no qualms about getting tattooed. It would be just another adventure.

I met Cassie outside of the tattoo parlor. We walked in together, arm-in-arm. As we entered, a small bell above the door jangled. Inside, a speaker from the back blared classic rock. I smiled in approval at their music taste. Almost all of the chairs were filled with people being inked. The tattoo artists were busy working on their designs. I noticed that the parlor didn't look very 'biker' at all. The walls were a cheery shade of yellow, and paper flowers lined the walls, along with hand-drawn sketches of intricate tattoo designs. The place had a pleasant atmosphere; I liked it.

A young woman, wearing a teddy-bear print dress and a large smile, approached Cassie and I. Her skin was covered in tattoos of hearts and flowers and girly things. I smiled to myself.

"Welcome!" she greeted us jollily. "Would you like to look at some designs and see what you like first before you get inked up?" I nodded, so the woman, who's name tag read Nancy, led us to a series of boards perched on the wall that held lots of ideas for tattoos. "Let me know when you find something you like!" she said before running off to attend to another customer.

We approached the boards, scanning over them. I skipped over the one with childish designs on it, and moved on to prettier things. Cassie tugged on my sleeve and pointed to a barbed wire design. "You like?" I smiled.

"I love."

Cassie smiled and wrote the design's number on the back of her hand before taking off to find a tattoo artist. I looked over the boards once more. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a winding rose one.

It was an intricate rose design, with a stem that winds a long ways down wherever you decide to put it. After some consideration, I decided to get that one. I repeated the number of it to myself as I made my way over to the station that Nancy from before was running.

When she finished with her client, Nancy invited me over. I sat down and quickly told her which tattoo I wanted. "Ah, fine choice, fine choice," Nancy clucked approvingly. I smiled gently in response.

"Ready?" Nancy asked, and I nodded. She lead me to a soft, cushy chair in front of a mirror and readied her station. I wasn't nervous. I'd never gotten a tattoo before, but it couldn't hurt that bad. Besides, I was used to pain. My tattoo artist began to prepare my arm for the needle and lay out the design of my rose.

In the other chair, Cassie was flirting with her tattoo artist, a stocky, muscular man with black hair who looked to be about seventeen or eighteen years old. His nametag read Brent. I could hear her flirtatious tone from across the room. I smiled approvingly at her, and she sent me a smirk and a wink.

Nancy prepared her needle and looked at me with slight concern. "You ready, sweetie?" I nodded.

"As I'll ever be. Do it." Nancy pressed the needle to my arm. Immediately, the pain hit me, crashing like a ton of bricks. It made my eyes water. I bit my lip in order to avoid making a sound. It wasn't the worst pain that I'd ever experienced, though.

Nancy was too focused on twirling the tattoo needle to make my rose just right to notice my reaction to the stinging pain. In a way, her work was beautiful. The way she was guiding it gently over my arm was almost magical.

Nancy was done quicker than I had expected. As soon as she finished the actual tattooing, she put a small, crisscrossing bandage over it. "Leave this on for three days, or you'll get an infection," Nancy warned me. I nodded in response.

"I will. Thank you." I handed her the money that I owed her for the tattoo, and stood up.

"You're very welcome," Nancy smiled, pocketing the money. I smiled politely in response and walked out of the parlor, where Cassie was waiting for me.

Simultaneously, without having to say anything, we both pulled back the bandages to show each other the tattoos we'd gotten. Cassie's barbed wire one was red, giving off even more of a rebel look. Mine was red, too, but it just looked strange and unattractive. I self-consciously pulled the bandage back down so that no one could see.

Cassie waved a piece of paper under my nose, and I smiled in approval when I recognized it as Brent's number. "I have to get home," Cassie said. I realized, with a start that it was almost five o'clock. No wonder she was worried. Her father expected her home to make his dinner every night, because her mother couldn't cook.

"Okay," I replied, clapping her on the shoulder. "Text me when you can?" Cassie nodded in response and mounted her motorcycle, roaring off in the opposite direction. When she was out of sight, I kick-started my own engine and sped toward home.