Page 32 of Meeting Me, Loving You (Hearts of Maple Lake #1)

JULIET

T he drive to Sansville was filled with country songs about back roads and fishing, courtesy of Cam’s country boy playlist. We laughed and sang our hearts out, Ty included, his voice carrying from the back seat.

I was able to sneak in a song or two of my own, ones with a little more hip hop than twang, all of us jamming along like teenagers for the duration of the drive.

No studying got done during the time spent in the truck, but I was having too much fun to feel bad about it.

The arcade is in the same building as the movie theater, acting as a great hangout space for teens and young adults alike.

When we arrived, the guys got competitive over video games.

I mostly sat back and watched, which I actually really enjoyed.

Ty was enthusiastic like his younger years, and he and Cam seemed to be picking up where they left off when they were fifteen, shoving each other and betting on who would get the highest score.

They’ve moved on to the mini basketballs now, racing to sink the most into the tiny baskets, while I play a fishing game in the corner called Tuna Boss.

The large screen shows various fish swimming by, as well as sharks, and my grip is loose on the reel controller as I wait for a tuna to pass.

I’m so concentrated on the game, I don’t realize the boys have stopped playing and Cam is standing behind me.

“Are you winning?”

I jump at the sound of his voice behind me. Keeping my eyes on the screen, I continue playing the game, willing myself to not be distracted by his presence.

“I just need to catch another big one to win the jackpot.” I bite my lip in concentration, feeling his nearness like I’d feel a scorching flame touch my bare skin. “Where’s Ty?” I ask, risking a quick glance up in search of my brother.

“He’s turning our tickets in at the counter.”

“I wonder how many Jolly Ranchers he’ll get,” I snicker. They’re Tyler’s favorite candy, and it’s probably the only thing worth getting at the arcade prize counter.

I see the fish I want swimming across the screen, and my hand slams on the big white button, hooking a large tuna.

“Nice job! Reel it in!” Cam shouts, encouraging me as I begin to turn the reel.

The fake fishing rod is programmed to shake and pull as if an actual live fish is on the line, making it difficult to hold in my small hands. I continue cranking the reel, but the screen shows the fish is getting further away, pulling my fake line with it.

“No, no, no,” Cam breathes.

“I can’t wind it fast enough!” I laugh.

Cam moves even closer, closing his large hand around mine.

Together, we turn the reel faster and faster, the large digital tuna coming in closer to the front of the screen.

It’s only a game, but it’s exhilarating—Cam’s chest pressed against my shoulder as we play to win the prize.

When the fish is finally lifted out of the water, the screen flashes various colors and fish jump across the screen, congratulating us on winning the jackpot.

“We did it!” I squeal. Cam wraps his arm around my shoulders, and my hand slides around his waist in a celebratory side hug as tickets spew from the machine.

We pull apart, and I look up to see his bright white smile, once again a hint of the boy I knew.

“Thanks,” I grin, still shocked at the number of tickets the machine is rolling out.

He looks down at me as laugh lines form around his eyes. “Anytime.”

“I can’t believe you won brand new headphones!” Ty is still as surprised as I am. We both know that I never win anything , let alone something good. Ty is usually the lucky one. “Do you know how many Jolly Ranchers you could’ve gotten with that many tickets?”

“Tylerrr,” I groan, throwing my head back.

“Enough to make your teeth fall out, that’s for sure,” Cam quips.

We’re all high on wins and laughter as we walk out of the arcade and onto the sunny street in downtown Sansville.

The main part of town is bigger than Maple Lake, with its larger intersections and busy restaurants.

Every few feet there’s a different boutique with people coming in and out.

Cars are lining up at a traffic light, and people cross the road with shopping bags dangling from their hands, their sights set on more shops across the street.

“Where to now?” asks Ty.

The three of us peer around at the stores and restaurants, debating what we should do next. It’s too early to head back home after coming all this way.

A sign hanging over a door a few shops down catches my eye, and I remember something Cam said. You can’t just sit around waiting for something new to happen while sticking to the same routine all the time.

I debate with myself, chewing on my upper lip. I’m vaguely aware of the guys talking about something, but I’m too involved with my own thoughts to listen.

Trying new things is how we learn who we are. Another thing Cam said.

It might not be the right time to make a permanent decision, but I’m suddenly resolved to do this one thing.

Turning to Cam and Ty, I state, “I want to get a tattoo.”

They’re both silent until Ty says, “Okay, when?”

“Right now.” I point to the tattoo shop up the street. “There.”

Cam watches me intently. The corner of his mouth hitches up, but then his brows crease and the smile drops as quickly as it came, his look of amusement turning to worry.

He leans toward me. “Is this because of my text?” he asks in a hushed tone close to my ear.

His voice is deep, reverberating up my spine.

“I was only joking. You don’t have to get a tattoo, that’s a big decision. ”

“You told me to try new things.” I shrug a shoulder and surprise even myself with a genuine smile. “I don’t want to get a tattoo because you pressured me into it, which you didn’t ,” I add quickly, “but it did give me the idea to be adventurous.”

Ty steps closer, having overheard some of our conversation. “Wait, was this Cam’s idea?” He throws accusatory eyes at Cam, and I move toward Ty.

“No,” I say. “This isn’t because of him. This is because of me. I want this for myself. ”

“Are you sure, Jules? Do you even know what you want to get?” Ty sounds nervous, but he isn’t looking at Cam with dagger eyes anymore. I knew hanging out all together could be a bad idea; Ty has always been protective, but it’s somehow been worse when it comes to his friends.

“Yeah, I do.”

I’m hyped for this, and I feel the effects of adrenaline as it already begins to run through my veins. Or maybe it’s the fresh smell of spring finally arriving after it’s defeated winter. Or, maybe I’m just nervous about the prospect of having something permanently inked onto my body.

“And you’re sure you want to do it right now? You don’t want to think about it a little more?” Ty is understandably concerned; I’m never spontaneous. I look toward Cam, but he doesn’t make his opinion known.

“I’m sure. I know exactly what I’ll get, and where I’ll put it.” I look between the boys, now grown men. They’re still my two protectors, like they were when we were kids.

But I’ve resolved to make this decision on my own, and I won’t let either of them talk me out of it.

Natalie crouches behind a tree at the edge of the woods. Mom and Dad say we can’t go further than the trees, but that’s where the little white flowers grow.

“Come over here, Jules. There’s hundreds of them!”

Natalie’s pink leggings are streaked with grass stains on the knees, and her light brown hair falls over her eyes as she plucks the bell-shaped flowers from the grass.

“We’re not supposed to be over here, Natalie. Let’s go closer to the house.” I yank on Natalie’s arm, but she tugs herself away and continues pulling the tiny plants from the dirt between the trees.

“I’m going to make a bouquet for Mommy, so I need a lot of flowers,” says Natalie, ignoring my requests.

Today is her birthday. She just turned six. Mom and Dad are on the deck grilling food for Natalie’s special birthday dinner. They said they weren’t going to have a party, but it turns out they invited most of the neighbors and some of our classmates.

Natalie continues to grab handfuls of white flowers, each hanging like a little white bell on its green stem. I wait patiently, curious if one of our parents will turn the corner of the house and catch us breaking the rules.

“C’mon, Natalie, you’re going to get me in trouble.”

“But you’re not doing anything. You’re just standing there.”

After another minute, she finishes her flower picking and tromps back through the tall grass that separates our mowed lawn from the forest. Natalie shoves a handful of flowers toward me.

“See?” she says cheerfully, “aren’t they pretty?”

I study them. I’ve seen them before, but as she holds them close to my face, I see they look just like tiny wedding bells. Like the ones I saw painted on the back of Aunt Milly’s car when she drove away after her wedding.

“Yeah, they’re really pretty.”

Getting a tattoo hurts. As excited as I was about it, I hadn’t thought through just how painful it was going to be.

The guy in the shop was covered in tattoos, and he had a long thick beard that reached his chest. He also wore glasses and, somehow, pulled off the whole look better than I thought possible for a burly tattooed man.

But I thought, if he can sit through endless hours of torture for his own tattoos, then I can endure it for thirty minutes.

Which is the time he estimated it would take to do what I requested.

Ty asked if I wanted someone to sit with me, but I said no. I wanted to do this on my own to prove to myself that I can try new things and be spontaneous without someone holding my hand.

My eyes are watering, and my jaw is tight as I stay as still as possible through the pain.

The beginning was the worst part, having never felt a needle like this before.

It’s not at all the same as having an IV inserted.

That’s just one prick and you’re done, while this is lots of pricks over and over again.

But now it feels a little numb as he’s gone back over the same areas more than once.

After the tattoo artist completes the last touches on the piece, he sits back and offers for me to stand by the mirror and take a look.

I get off the chair and walk across the small space to where a floor length mirror hangs on the wall. The sound of tattoo machines buzzes from the other side of several partitions.

The V-neck shirt I’m wearing gives me an instant view of my new artwork.

Just below my collarbone rests a beautiful lily of the valley in black ink, its dainty bell-shaped blooms resting gracefully along my skin.

Leaves are shaded lightly, while the blossoms are left empty of any dark pigment.

The area around it is red and raised, but the man tells me it will calm down soon.

I’m speechless, loving the way the flowers look imprinted on my skin.

My heart is light as I step into the waiting room where Ty and Cam have been waiting for me.

Ty looks nervous, but my gaze glosses over him and lands on Cam.

His green eyes are bright, and I watch as they move slowly down my face, down my neck, and land near my collarbone.

My breath catches as his gaze lingers on my new tattoo.

He’s studying it, escaping into it, and I realize I’ve never had a good look at the tattoo inked on his forearm.

Now that I have one, it makes me all the more curious about his.

Ty’s voice carries me out of my thoughts. “It looks good. Did it hurt?”

“Honestly, it was completely awful,” I say, but I can’t help the smile that plasters itself to my face. “But I love it.”

“Worth it?” Cam asks.

I look up at him, feeling safe and seen and understood just from the way he looks at me. “Worth it!”

I pay at the counter and thank the tattooed man, promising that if I ever want more tattoos, I’ll be back to see him.

A little bell rings as Ty leads us out the door of the shop. I’m just about to walk out behind him when Cam reaches over my shoulder, holding the door open for me. He places a hand on my lower back and leans down close to my ear, his words almost too low to hear.

“It looks perfect. But, for the record, you’d look beautiful no matter what you got.”