It means the most.

“You sure you want to do this?” my best friend Sheila asked as we stepped across the threshold of Muncher Tattoos.

“I’m sure,” I said and took a deep breath, a fish so completely out of water I was about to die of dehydration, but I knew I had to do something to remember.

“Okay,” she said and we walked up to the counter and she rang the bell.

“What can I do for you?” the man I’d met a month earlier said and looked at me trying to figure out why he knew me.

“Tattoo,” I said, my voice shaking.

“Don’t I know you?” I nodded.

“We met at Carl’s. About a month ago.”

“Right,” he said and his eyes clouded over. “Gray. Bad night.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “But I don’t want to forget.”

“I know just the thing,” he said and almost smiled. “Come on back.”

Sheila and I followed him back and I sat down in the chair as he prepared the ink. She held my hand as I turned my phone on and saw the picture of Carson and me and tried not to cry.

“You looked good together,” Munch said when he turned back around.

“I know,” I sighed.

“You ready?” I closed my eyes and nodded as Sheila squeezed my hand and he started to work, decorating my skin for all to see; for all to know what Carson had meant.

Carson was the last person I expected to talk to at the party and certainly not someone I thought I’d end up liking. He was everything I wasn’t and the sheltered life I’d led to that point told me he was bad news with his tattoos and piercings. That wasn’t the kind of boy I was supposed to like but when my date ditched me to check out the keg and found another girl on the way, I was a little bit stranded and found myself standing outside on the lawn trying to find a taxi service to call.

I’d seen him inside, nursing a beer and playing the dark, mysterious character I was certain he was, and I’d even thought he might have been cute at some point in his life, but I turned away when he caught me staring and tried to find another place to divert my eyes. That’s when I caught sight of Gary pressing a red head against the wall and kissing her so hard I thought she might fall through it. I didn’t bother getting an explanation. I shouldn’t have bothered going in the first place.

Gary was a nice enough guy, but it’s not like we were dating, and even though our parents were friends and swore we’d be the perfect couple, we wanted very different things and it wasn’t the first time he’d found someone else to play with at a party. But I decided it would be the last time I’d be the one he left and wandered outside instead of waiting until he was done.

“Need a ride?” the tattooed boy asked, startling me so much that I actually dropped my phone. “Sorry,” he said and picked it up. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Thanks,” I said and took the phone from his hand and couldn’t help but stare at the artwork on his arm. It was actually quite beautiful and clearly took someone a great deal of time, but it still wasn’t really for me. “I don’t suppose you have the number for a cab, do you?”

“Sorry, no. But I do have a car.”

“Oh that’s okay,” I said, still living under the rule every parent sets for their child about not taking rides from strangers. “Thanks though.”

“I won’t bite,” he smiled, and his voice was very kind and he didn’t seem like he had any sort of ulterior motive, but it still didn’t seem like a good idea.

“I just don’t know you,” I said.

“Oh, well in that case,” he said and put his hand out to shake. “Carson Lowell. The third.”

“Carson Lowell?” I asked as my eyes got wider and I took his hand in mind. “As in, Lowell Plastics? As in, your father practically owns this town?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “That’s him.”

“Wow,” I said, holding his hand as I took him in more completely. “You’re so…I mean you’re not really…you just…”

“I know,” he smiled and his whole face seemed to twinkle. “I don’t fit the mold.”

“Not exactly,” I blushed.

The Lowell family made my family look poor and we were incredibly wealthy thanks to my father’s books and my mother’s family money. The Lowell family could buy us out with their pocket change. I’d heard he went to school there and wondered when our paths might cross but I certainly hadn’t expected the moment to be in front of a frat house during a keg party.

“Well, now you know who I am,” he said and slipped his hands in his pockets. “Who are you?”

“Oh I’m sorry,” I said and put my hand back up to shake his. “Graham Starks. The second.”

“Cute,” he smiled and pulled his hand back out and took mine.

“But everyone calls me Gray.”

“Graham Starks,” he mused. “Why do I know that name? Do we have a class together or something?”

“You probably know who my father is,” I said and kicked the grass with my shoe. It wasn’t like me to tell people my actual name. Usually I just said Gray, but something about him made me want to be honest about who I really was. Maybe it was because his family’s fame far outranked mine.

“So you really are a second? You’re named after your father?”

“Weird, right? Dumbest girl’s name ever.”

“I don’t know,” he smiled. “It’s very unique. I like that.” I couldn’t help but smile and I’m pretty sure my blush returned as well. “So wow, your dad’s a great writer. I love his stuff.”

“I’ll let him know,” I said, which was my standard answer when people said something like that to me.

“I’d love to have a gift like that,” he continued, and I could tell he was really interested. “I can’t imagine being able to just sit down and write something like that. What’s it like watching him do it?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I replied, recalling the days and nights he wasn’t around because of the writing; trying to hide the resentment I still felt. “He doesn’t do much work at home.”

“Ooo sorry, touchy subject?” Clearly I hadn’t hidden my resentment as well as I thought I had.

“It’s just not as glamorous as people think, you know?”

“I do,” he sighed, and I realized he was one of the few who probably really did.

“Must be hard to be the heir to the Lowell throne,” I threw in.

He sighed heavily and stared up at the sky for a minute before looking back at me. “I love my family, and I won’t deny that the money’s great, but I have no desire to take it over someday or be a part of the business in any way. I just have zero interest in it.”

“And what do you have an interest in?”

“Art,” he smiled and I was surprised how interested in him I’d become in such a short time. “All kinds of art. Music, painting, creating something…man, it’s such a rush!” His passion was intoxicating and I couldn’t stop listening. “What about you? What are you interested in?”

“Truth?” I said and let a sly grin out.

“Of course,” he replied.

“Well, I’m studying English because that’s what my father thought I should study, but my passion is software; designing it, building it, figuring out how to market it, all of that. I have an almost double course load so I can take everything for the English degree but also for the software engineering one.”

“And yet you came out to a party? Impressive.” He crossed his arms and smiled, and I couldn’t figure out why he was so easy to talk to. “So who’d you come here with anyway? And why isn’t he taking you home?”

“Gary Jostin,” I said with absolutely zero excitement in my voice.

“That guy that was practically pushing that red head through the wall?”

“Yeah. Charming, isn’t he?”

“What a tool. Are you dating him?”

“Oh goodness no. But our parents would like that, and every now and then we go out just to put on the appearance, but this is usually how it ends, and this time, I think I’m done playing.”

“Good for you. No one deserves to be treated like that. And certainly not someone as lovely as you.”

“You know, when you say things like that, you really betray your tattoos and nose ring.”

“You, my dear,” he said with a grin as he leaned forward, “have a very narrow view of things don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” I said and hung my head down to avoid eye contact.

“It’s okay,” he said and stood back up straight. “I’m just giving you grief because it’s easy.”

“Well thanks a lot,” I smiled.

“Anytime. Now, can I please take you home? It sounds like you probably need more rest than most of us.”

“I suppose I do know you now, so I guess that’s okay. Where’s your car?”

He pulled out his cell phone and while I only heard half of the conversation I couldn’t help but smile at how torn he was between his parents world and the one he wanted to create for himself.

“It’s me,” he started. “Edge of Frat Row. Thanks.” He closed the phone and I just shook my head and smiled. “What?”

“Your car? Really?”

“I told you the money part was good,” he winked. “Come on,” he said and started walking toward the street. “I always meet him at the edge so people don’t get weird about it.”

“Yeah,” I said as I walked beside him. “Because a limo picking you up down the street is so much less obvious than right in front of the house.”

“Whatever double major,” he teased.

“Shut up,” I smiled and playfully hit his arm.

The car pulled up just as we hit the main street and it wasn’t actually a limousine but a very nice Town Car, and his driver jumped out and opened the back door like I knew he’d probably done a hundred times before.

“Thank you,” I said as I slid in.

“Thanks, Ronnie,” Carson said then slid in next to me. “So, where to?”

“1401 South Grant Lane,” I answered. “Hope that’s not too inconvenient for you.”

“Not at all,” he smiled and made sure Ronnie knew the destination then sat back and stared at me.

“What?” I asked, not uncomfortable, but more than a little curious about him.

“How come I’ve never seen you before?”

“How should I know? How come I’ve never seen you? What year are you anyway?”

“Junior, you?”

“Sophomore.”

“Well maybe that’s why then. And since we likely don’t have any classes in the same buildings…”

“Right,” I sighed. “So why were you at that party anyway? It really doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“And how do you know so much about me all of the sudden?” he teased. “Maybe it’s just the kind of scene I like.”

“Yeah, I’m not buying it.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “My sister called from there all freaked out, but by the time I got there she was fine, as she usually is. I decided to have a beer and that’s when I saw you.”

“I see,” I smiled. “So I was right then? Not really your scene.”

“Yes, oh great one. You know everything about me. Is your life complete now?”

“Pretty much.”

“I gotta say,” he smiled and turned his body toward me. “You’re not exactly what I expected when I walked out of that house tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Look at you,” he said as his eyes took in everything from my toes to my ears. “You’re dressed way too nice for a frat party. You look like you stepped out of one of those preppie girl catalogs, and you’ve got your hair pulled back just so with your big white headband, and your little purse, and I honestly expected you to be a complete snob.”

“Huh,” I sighed and pouted a bit.

“I was pleasantly surprised when you weren’t,” he said quickly.

The thing was, he wasn’t that far off. I hated going to those kinds of parties and wasn’t even sure why I let Gary talk me into it. I was just as much as fish out of water there as Carson was, and I suppose I probably did think I was better than most of the people there. I wasn’t a drinker, and didn’t really care to push my way through a crowd of those who were just to get to a bowl of stale chips and bad salsa. Gary had said we were going to dinner, but then he was late picking me up and dinner never happened, which I only remembered because my stomach started growling and it was embarrassingly loud.

“Wow, do they not feed you enough?” he teased.

“Shut up,” I blushed.

“Sorry,” he smiled. “Wanna stop and get some food?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, wondering what sort of snack I might have at home, hoping my roommate’s football playing boyfriend hadn’t eaten everything I’d just bought like he did the last time I’d been shopping. My stomach growled again and Carson laughed as I wrapped my arms around my waist. “Fine,” I agreed. “Let’s stop and eat.”

“Hey, Ronnie,” he said and leaned forward. “Can you take us to Carl’s?”

“Of course, sir,” he replied.

“Carl’s?” I asked having no idea what he was talking about.

“You know,” he said. “Carl’s Cafe? Open all night? Best burgers in town?” I shook my head. “Seriously?”

“I don’t really get out much,” I smiled.

“Clearly,” he agreed. “It’s good that you met me then,” he continued. “I’ll show you all the best places.”

I smiled as Ronnie turned down a dark street, the kind that I never would have turned down in the daylight, much less at night. I looked around and saw closed-up shops and broken windows, an all-night tattoo parlor and a liquor store that was doing a booming business. When the car slowed I wondered if Carson had brought me there to kill me, but then I saw the small blinking sign that said open and actually saw a tiny eatery that was packed with people.

“We’ll just be a few minutes,” he said to Ronnie and opened the door and helped me out. “You want something?”

“The usual,” Ronnie answered and Carson smiled as he closed the door.

“Ronnie can’t resist their milkshakes,” he said as he held the door open for me. “After you.”

I stepped inside and felt more out of place than I had at the party and actually took Carson’s hand and moved as close to him as I could as we walked to the end of the counter. He just smiled and rolled his eyes at my actions and actually squeezed my hand as well.

“Carson!” some guy at a table we walked by yelled out.

“Munch!” he yelled back and released my hand when the guy stood and they shared one of those guy embraces. “Where’ve you been?”

“Had to get home for a while,” he said and was actually very articulate and inside I scolded myself for thinking he was someone scary. “My mom’s been pretty sick,” he added.

“Sorry to hear that, man. Is she gonna be okay?”

“They don’t know,” the guy sighed and was clearly upset by it. “I’ll probably be going back a lot. So how have you been, man? And who’s your friend?”

“Oh right,” he said and turned around and ushered me closer with his hand on my back. “This is Gray. Gray, this is Munch.”

“Hi,” I said and took his outstretched hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Munch said, and much like Carson, he was nothing like I expected. He was covered in tattoos, dressed from head to toe in black leather and had a huge nose ring that looked like I could have attached a leash to it. But his voice was kind and his hands were soft and I told myself to stop being so judgmental.

“You too,” I smiled.

“Listen,” Carson said, “I need to get Gray some food before she passes out, and then I need to get her home, but let’s hang tomorrow. You around?”

“I’ll be around,” he said.

“Cool.”

“Nice to meet you, Gray,” he said and showed me a genuine smile.

“You too,” I smiled back and Carson put his hand on my back and guided me to the counter.

“Well hey, sweetie,” an older waitress said. “You want the usual?”

“I sure do,” he flirted. “Ronnie too.” She blushed, and I thought it very sweet. “What do you want, Gray?”

“Oh gosh,” I said and looked up at the menu on the wall. “Cheeseburger I guess. With bacon. And some onion rings. Oh, and I hear your shakes are to die for, so I’ll have one of those too. Strawberry.”

“Wow,” he said and looked at me with his mouth open. “A girl who actually eats.”

“You got it sweetie,” the woman said. “She’s a good one, Carson,” she added then gave him a wink as she threw the order back to the cook.

“You’re quite a puzzle, Miss Starks, you know that? I definitely didn’t picture you as the burger type and certainly not the onion ring type.”

“Well, I guess we both pre-judged a little didn’t we?”

“I guess so,” he sighed and leaned on the counter while we waited for our food.

“Here you go, sugar,” the waitress said after only a few minutes and handed Carson a bag and a drink holder with three shakes.

“Thanks, Mags,” he said and reached into his pocket for his wallet.

“Oh shoot,” I said. “I left my purse in the car.”

“I got it,” he winked. “But nice effort.”

He handed Mags a 50-dollar bill and told her to keep the change, and I admired his generous nature. I could tell he wasn’t just flaunting his money. He genuinely cared about the people at Carl’s and clearly just wanted to help however he could. “You tell Ronnie to come in next time,” she said as we grabbed the food and turned to leave.

“Will do, Mags,” he winked and put his hand on my back once again as we walked back toward the door. “See ya, Munch.”

“See ya, man. Bye Gray.”

“Bye,” I said and turned and smiled as we walked by. He pushed open the door and let me walk out first then opened the front of the car and handed Ronnie his shake.

“Ah, very good,” he said. “Thanks.”

“You got it. Now, let’s go to the park and eat.”

“The park?” I asked.

“Come on,” he smiled and held the door open for me. I slid in carefully so as not to spill the shakes and a minute later we were moving through the dark neighborhood and I couldn’t imagine there was a park anywhere in the vicinity but I was surprised once again when Ronnie turned a corner and his lights shone on a small grassy oasis in the midst of the darkness. He pulled the car over and Carson opened the door and took the shakes from me before helping me out.

“I have no idea where we even are,” I said as I glanced around at the unknown surroundings.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” he smiled and I followed him to a picnic table near the edge of the grass, partially lit by a streetlamp. “Here we go.” He sat the food down and I sat down on the bench and watched him unpack the bag.

“Thanks,” I said when he handed me my burger that looked as greasy and cheesy as I’d hoped it would. I unwrapped the paper around it and took a big bite and didn’t even care that the grease dripped down my chin.

“Here,” he smiled and handed me a napkin.

“I have a feeling I’m going to need more of those,” I smiled as I wiped my chin and took another bite. “Oh my gosh this is good.”

“I told you,” he smiled and bit into his own burger. “Carl’s is the best.”

“How did you find it?”

“My dealer told me about it,” he said and I stopped mid-bite. I was still not adjusted to his tattoos and pierced body parts, but he seemed fairly normal. I was not expecting drugs and suddenly wanted to flee from the park until I saw the corners of his mouth turn up and realized he was kidding.

“Very funny,” I said and did my best irritated impression.

“Sorry, that was just too easy. Actually, a kid I went to high school with, his grandfather owns it. We used to come here a lot after school; it was a pretty big hangout actually. When I got to college I started coming later and as you can see it’s pretty popular later too. It’s mostly locals, so I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of it. I’m glad you like it.”

“Are you kidding me? This is the best burger I’ve had since I got here, and the shake is ridiculous. Maybe you can give me directions so I can come back?”

“Maybe,” he smiled. “Or maybe I’ll just come pick you up and we’ll go together.”

“That would also work,” I blushed and he smiled as he sipped his shake. “So tell me,” I said after a few silent moments. “Of all your tattoos, which one’s your favorite?”

“Oh that’s easy,” he said. “It’s my first one, and it’s not the most glamorous or the fanciest, but it means the most to me.”

“Well, let’s see it then,” I said.

“Can’t,” he said and his cheeks appeared to grow red. “It’s not exactly in a public place.”

“Oh,” I said, a little embarrassed. “Well describe it to me then.”

“It’s a small cross, black ink only, and it’s got my mom’s initials on it.”

“That’s sweet,” I said. “How old were you when you got it?”

“Fourteen,” he said. “Right after she died.”

“Oh, Carson,” I sighed. “I didn’t realize…I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay. Most people think my dad’s current wife is our mom, but she’s just the woman he married. Our real mom…well, let’s just say it was a bit of a scandal.”

“You don’t need to elaborate. It’s clear you loved her very much. That’s all that matters.”

“Thanks,” he said and I could see how much he cared.

“And your sister? The one who called you tonight?”

“Oh, that’s really my half-sister. My real sister lives in Paris; moved there right after high school, fell in love, got married and has her own little French family.”

“Do you see her much?”

“About once a year I guess. Sometimes twice.”

“Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course,” he smiled and pulled out his phone and flipped to some photos and handed it to me.

“Is that your niece?” He nodded. “She is adorable, and has your eyes.”

“I know,” he smiled, proud. “There should be some of my sister if you keep flipping, but there are a lot of Juliette.”

“Proud uncle,” I smiled and flipped through a series of pictures of the little girl then came to someone who I could only guess was his sister. “What’s your sister’s name?”

“Caterina. Cat.”

“She’s beautiful,” I said and flipped through a couple of photos. “You miss her don’t you?” He nodded and I didn’t press the issue.

He got pretty quiet after that and we finished our food without any more talking, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. I actually enjoyed sitting with him and not saying anything. I was so intrigued by him and how easily I fell into his charms and wondered what my parents would say if I brought him home for Christmas. I couldn’t help but smile when that thought entered my head and when he saw my smile he smiled back and I felt like we’d totally bonded.

The silence ended when my phone rang and when I fished it out of my jacket pocket and saw Gary’s name I didn’t even want to answer it. “Like he really cares what happened to me,” I said and was about to hit ignore when Carson grabbed it from my hand.

“Let me,” he grinned and I rather liked the idea of him answering the call.

“Gray’s phone,” he answered in his most serious phone. “No, I’m sorry she’s unavailable at the moment. Yes, she’s perfectly fine. Is there a message? Uh huh. Okay. Right. That’s really none of your concern.”

He hung up the phone and handed it back to me. “Well?” I asked.

“He was worried when he couldn’t find you; felt bad about ditching you; wanted to make sure you were okay; wanted to remind you about your brunch on Sunday.”

“Aw crap,” I said. “I totally forgot. I promised I’d go to brunch with him and his family on Sunday. Gross.”

“Hey, a lot could happen between now and Sunday,” he grinned and I smiled thinking about how I could get out of it.

“So true,” I said just as a yawn escaped my mouth. “Oh geez,” I said and put my hands up to shield the second yawn. “What time is it anyway?”

“It’s almost 2,” he said after glancing at his watch.

“I should get home.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Thanks for rescuing me,” I smiled as we walked back to the car.

“It was absolutely my pleasure. Maybe I can rescue you again tomorrow, which I guess is really later today?”

“Maybe,” I blushed and leaned into his shoulder.

“But just in case you decide you never want to see me again,” he said and pulled out his phone. “I should at least get your picture.”

“Oh brother,” I said and rolled my eyes. “You’re crazy.”

“Just smile,” he said and put his arm around me and held the phone in front of us and snapped.

“Oh that’s horrible,” I said when he turned it around. “I look cranky. Do it again.” I slipped my arm around his waist and leaned in so my cheek was brushing his and he took another and it was much better. “Perfect,” I smiled. “Send that to me.”

I gave him my number and he sent it right then and I smiled when the text popped up on my phone. “I think we look pretty good together,” he said.

“Pretty good?” I teased. “We look great.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, our arms still around each other after we slipped our phones back in our pockets. “We do look great. Tycoon’s rebel son spends night with author’s sheltered but beautiful daughter,” he said and ran his hand across the air like it was a headline.

“I think it’s more like, Author’s daughter swept away by tycoon’s wild child,” I said and painted my own headline with my hand.

“I think it’s more like, rich people better hand over their money so they don’t get shot,” a voice said from behind us. I heard the click of a gun and froze as Carson’s hand grabbed onto mine tightly.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Carson said and slowly slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his cash and held it up. The gunman grabbed it.

“Your watch,” he said and Carson slipped what I could only guess was a very expensive watch from his wrist. “Yours too, sweetheart,” he said to me and I unclasped the Gucci my aunt had given me and held it up. “And the diamond.” I’d stupidly worn my grandmother’s diamond ring that night and totally forgot I had it on my hand. I cried as I slipped it from my finger and silently begged her forgiveness for being so careless with it. “Now get down on the ground,” he said and pushed at our backs.

“What’s going on out here?” Ronnie said, emerging from the car as we knelt to the ground. That’s when the shot rang out. First one, then another, then one more, and all I felt was liquid oozing as Carson fell into me.

The gunman ran and I tried to stand with Carson’s body against mine. “Carson? Stay with me. Come on now.” I laid him back on the sidewalk slowly, and the blood was everywhere, but his eyes were open.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his breathing labored.

“Don’t talk,” I said and pulled my jacket off and tried to hold the blood in like I’d seen on TV. He held onto my hand tight and I tried not to cry. Ronnie had gone down fast, and I feared the worst but could only focus on Carson as I dialed 9-1-1 with my other hand. Someone else had obviously called it in though as sirens started to fill the air and people started running toward the scene as I screamed and cried. “Help me! Help him! Somebody!”

Ronnie was dead when the ambulance arrived and Carson wasn’t in good shape. I didn’t even realize that the third bullet had grazed me and I was bleeding from my leg. My adrenaline had clearly masked the pain but as soon as I sat down in the back of the vehicle and saw my own blood I got woozy and passed out. When I woke up, in an empty hospital room, I knew that Carson had died even though no one had told me. I just knew.

The door opened and a familiar face appeared in it and as my mind tried to figure out who it was the man walked toward me. “Hello, Miss Stark,” he said, and then I realized who it was.

“Mr. Lowell,” I sighed. “Is Carson…?” He nodded and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said. “We called your parents and they’re on their way.”

“Okay,” I said and felt unbelievably sad about losing Carson before I’d really gotten to know him.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked and pulled a chair up. “You know what? Never mind. It’s not important right now. Were you a good friend of my son’s?”

“I’d like to think so,” I said and tried to smile.

“Good,” he said. “I’m glad he wasn’t alone.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Lowell,” I said and found my eyes generating their own tears.

“Thank you,” he said and took my hand and we both cried for several minutes.

Heir to Lowell Fortune Shot in Late Night Robbery. Author’s Daughter also Injured.

“All done,” he said and I released Sheila’s hand and held up my arm to admire his work.

“It’s perfect,” I said as I admired the small cross with C L III on it. “Thank you, Munch.”

“Of course,” he said and squeezed the fingers on my hand before giving me some directions on keeping it clean then wrapped a bandage over it.

“Hand me my purse,” I said to Sheila and started to pull my wallet out.

“No,” he said and put his hand on mine. “This one’s on me. It’s the least I can do. To remember.”

“Thank you,” I said and squeezed his hand gently. “You were a good friend to him.”

“He was the best,” he sighed. “But I think you know that.”

“I do,” I sighed.

A few hours later I sat in front of his gravestone, a shiny piece of concrete that read Beloved Son and Faithful Friend, and unwrapped the bandage slowly to show him what I’d done.

“I never thought I’d get a tattoo in my life,” I said, “but it’s the best way I could think of to honor you. I know you never showed me your cross, but I hope this is similar. Munch said it was. He misses you. I miss you.” I put my hand on the stone and cried a few tears thinking how odd it was to miss someone I’d known for only a few hours. “I probably could have loved you forever,” I added then kissed my fingertips and placed them on the stone and stayed until the sun started to set. “Goodnight, Carson,” I said and stood and wrapped the bandage back around my wrist. “I promise to come again soon.”

A few days after I took the bandage off I raised my hand in class and a girl next to me noticed my tattoo. “Cool ink,” she said. “What’s it mean?”

“It means the most,” I smiled.

© Carrie M. Medders