There is absolutely nothing that can bring me down today. I have my first actual client coming into the shop in an hour. I’m practically bouncing off the walls I can barely contain my excitement. I need to bring it down a notch or she may spot me for the newbie that I am.

I grab the broom and begin sweeping the main room, glancing around to see what else needs to be straightened up. Anything to work off some of this nervous energy. At this point I don’t even care what tattoo I’m doing, I’m just happy to finally be putting ink on someone.

The swish of the broom across the floor seems to be doing the trick, but my mind starts wandering to Jake. He texted me Saturday night like he said he would, but we didn’t really go back and forth too much. He was tired, and we were swamped with people walking in. That hasn’t happened in a while, but there is an arts festival going on, so we get an influx of customers when other shops have to turn them away.

We had so many we were having to do the same. My night was full of giving people forms to fill out, making copies of their licenses, and making sure Corey, Bianca, and Adrian had everything they needed. By the time I got home I was exhausted. I collapsed on my bed without even changing.

I was surprised to get an actual phone call from Jake yesterday. He doesn’t strike me as the type to spend hours on the phone, but we did. He sounded a little sad, though. I didn’t want to press him about it because we’ve only been on one date, but I can’t help feeling like something major happened. I wanted to console him, but I didn’t know how to do that without knowing the reason why.

Bianca’s sudden appearance stops me in my tracks. I will not let her put me in a funk before my appointment.

“I hope you don’t fuck up your tattoo today,” she sneers.

I smirk. “Why don’t you worry about your own clients. I noticed Marshall hasn’t been in here in a while.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she questions.

“Honestly, nothing,” I say. “But he seemed like the type that would be in here as much as possible to get new ink, and yet he hasn’t shown up in a few days. Did you mess up something on the addition you did for him?”

She winces. “That’s none of your business.” She starts to walk away but turns back around. “Just don’t screw up the tattoo. We don’t want any more incidents with cartoon characters.”

How in the hell does she know that? My only guess is Marshall told her. I shrug and resume sweeping. When I’m done, I put the broom away, and start setting up my station for my client, Sophia, to come in. I have no idea what she’s going to get, but I can’t wait to get started.

I’m putting the last typography print on the wall of my workroom when I hear the bell above the door jingle. The frame almost slips from my hands, but I manage to hang onto it. I finally find the hook it needs to sit and slide the picture on it. I dust my hands off like I did some sort of major construction instead of just sticking a hook and frame on the wall.

Adrian calls my name from the front room, and I take one final glance at my station before walking toward the counter. There’s a timid girl standing on the other side. She has on those big framed glasses that most people associate with hipsters, long straight brown hair, and wide doe eyes. She looks terrified that she’s here.

Adrian glances at me. “Charleigh, this is Sophia, your appointment.” He points at her, and I can’t tell if she wants to run screaming in the other direction or climb him like a tree. I see equal parts attraction and fear. And, can’t help the grin that takes over my face.

“Hi, Sophia,” I extend my hand out to her. “I’m Charleigh.”

She takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m Sophia. But you obviously know that already.”

Looking over at Adrian, I don’t miss the way he studies her. He’s in his late twenties, and a good-looking guy. I wonder if he’ll ask questions about her after our session. “Did you get Sophia to fill out the paperwork?”

“Yep, it’s all right here,” he hands me a clipboard. But he doesn’t take his eyes off Sophia the entire time. “You’re good too go.”

“Thanks. Follow me back, Sophia.” I don’t wait to see if she’s going to follow and walk to my room. Looking over the clipboard I note that she’s twenty-four. She doesn’t look it. Her skin is close to flawless, and she has a baby face. You know, the ones that will no doubt be carded for most of their adult lives. I try to merge my view of the mousy girl standing before me, and the one that wants to permanently ink her skin.

I catch myself in the mirror. Anybody looking at me would assume I’m a straight-laced girl, with zero tattoos, and dreams of a normal nine to five job. They would be wrong. Who am I to try to see who this girl is without getting to know her? The small reality check is exactly what I need to put my mind in the right place.

Sophia walks into the workroom and stops dead in her tracks. She’s looking at all the walls and bright colors. I can’t help but laugh. “Did you expect something different?”

She nods. “I figured it’s be a bit more broody and tortured artist.”

“Eh,” I shrug. “Broody isn’t really my thing.” Like I said to myself before…it’s all about perception.

I motion her toward the chair, “So, what are you wanting to do today?”

Sophia sits, wringing her hands. “There’s two that I want, but I’m not sure how I want them done.” Her knee is bouncing with nerves. “I was hoping you could help me with that.”

She’s really nervous. It’s written in her posture, and the fact that she can’t sit still. There’s only one reason for her reaction. “Sophia, have you ever gotten a tattoo before?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little,” I laugh. “But it’s all good. We’ve all been there before, I just had the luxury of growing up in this place so I knew what to expect.”

“Will it hurt?”

“That depends.” I sigh, “For some it can, but it’s more annoying than anything else.” Pausing, I study her. I don’t want to tattoo her if she’s going to freak out, but I understand where she’s coming from. “Do you still want to do this?”

She doesn’t answer right away, but I see the moment she decides she wants it in her eyes. There’s a resolve there, and I’m sure she’s one of those people that has put a lot of thought into getting a tattoo.

“Let’s do this,” Sophia exclaims.

“That’s what I like to hear.” I can’t help the huge grin that takes over my face.

She tells me what she wants the wording to say and start adding my own flair to my sketch pad. I get her enthusiastic approval of my design and begin transferring to the carbon paper.

“What made you decided on these specific tattoos?”

“Well,” she pauses. “The ‘Always’ is from Harry Potter, of course. I’ve loved that series since I was a child, and it helped me through some pretty crappy situations in school. The other is my little reminder to myself after reading a book called Revelry.”

I nod, listening to everything she has to say. “I’ve never heard of it. I’m guessing you had a connection to it?”

“You could say that.” She takes a sip of water from her bottle before continuing, “I had just come out of a pretty rough relationship. And, I felt, I don’t know like I wasn’t worth anything. I lost myself. But this book, it spoke to me. It made me realize that I I’m so much more.”

“You might be my new favorite client.” I don’t tell her that she’s technically my first one. I refuse to count Jake’s tattoo as my first, even though I still find it hysterical weeks later. “Most people come in here and get tattoos that hold no meaning to them. They just felt like doing it. But you…you have put so much thought into this. I can’t wait to see what you think.”

I’ve just transferred the first design onto Sophia’s wrist when my phone dings with a message.

Jake: What are you doing right now?

Charleigh: About to tattoo someone. Talk later?

Jake: No SpongeBob!

Jake: Call me when you’re done?

Charleigh: She actually knows what she wants. No weird cartoon tats for her. I’ll call you.

I’m so happy that he can laugh about the Patrick tattoo. Not many people would be able to. I just knew he was going to call Corey raising hell. Instead he slowly worked his way into asking me for a date.

“You ready?” I ask Sophia. “You can still sit in that chair, but I’m going to need you to lean your arm across the table.”

“Okay,” she swallows so hard I can see her throat move.

“You’re going to do great.” I squeeze her hand to reassure her. “Just let me know if you need a break, and I’ll stop.”

“Sounds good.” A small smile appears on her face. I just know this girl is going to love tattoos as much as I do.

I pull a pair of gloves out of the box and shove my hands into them. I hate the way they feel, but it’s a requirement. I connect the power to the gun then dip it into the small pot of ink and press the footswitch so that Sophia can get used the sound.

The moment I start tracing the lines of the design, Sophia jerks. It’s startling when you get your first one. But soon she’s relaxed and talking to keep her nerves at bay. And me? I’m in my element.