All the Songs Have Been Erased, chapter 10
Tre locked the car as I shut my door while we left the black SUV in it's parking spot. "You know," I said. "We have yet to tell everyone. When I was over at the Armstrongs 2 days ago, both the Dirnts and the Armstrongs had the impression that you were taken over by an angry rapist. And now God knows what they think considering that I haven't called them yet."
Tre chuckled. "Hmm?" I said as I fumbled to find a mint in my purse. I found the box in success, "Found you, you little bastard! So anyway, what's so funny?"
"They thought I was an angry rapist," Tre smiled. "That's great stuff." "Har-de har har, you're funny now." "I know."
"We're at the right building right? University of Berkeley Cancer Center?" I asked as I popped a mint in my mouth. "Yeah I think so," Tre replied.
I unfolded a sheet of paper that I had in my hand. "Floor 6, Dr. Wereie. Is that how you pronounce it? Wear-ie?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Interesting."
"What's interesting about it?"
"Name rings a bell, I'm not sure how, but it does."
"That's weird."
"Yeah."
We walked into a big room with a staircase in the center. To the right the wall had a sign on it that said 'Elevators.' "Elevator or stairs?" I asked. Before I could let him answer I decided for him, "Elevator. I don't want to get you to tired."
"You know, you don't have to baby me," Tre replied, a bit angry. I had been a little overprotective about him getting too tired in the past day, and I think it was getting on his nerves.
"I'm not babying you, I'm just trying to make sure you don't get more sick than you already are." But it was true, I was babying him. I just didn't want him to get hurt. I didn't feel like losing someone that actually loved me for my quirks and my sarcasm, and never made fun of me for being stupid. I didn't feel like losing someone that I meshed with. That worked. I didn't feel like losing someone I loved.
I've only loved someone once before, and his name still brings a pang to my heart when mentioned even if it's talking about someone else with the same name.
He was mean to me and didn't care about what I thought. We were good friends but he didn't know about how I felt. When he wasn't mean to me, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. Yeah right.
I've still kept in touch with him a bit during the past years, but for the most part we don't talk. I don't really like associating a lot with my teenage life it's something I'm not really proud of and want to get away from.
The town that I grew up in was an extremely wealthy town and had a horrible reputation as everyone being rich snobs. A lot of people weren't, but just the same a lot of people were. No one really noticed anything important in life and took everything for granted.
When I was in middle school, I told everyone numerous amounts of times that the second I'm old enough, I'm out. And that's exactly what I did. I couldn't stand being trapped in that little world anymore I was about to go crazy. It was so full of conformity it made me sick.
That's why I loved going to California so much I got to get away. Every few months I needed a week's worth of fresh air, and staying with the Armstrongs gave me that.
Tre and I stepped into the elevator and I pressed the 6 button. "You know," I said. "I think I'm going to get a new tattoo tomorrow. In your honor."
Tre smiled, "My dear, how shall one go about doing that?" "Well it'll probably be just above my waistline on my front left. It's going to say 'Life is Tre Cool' on it in cursive, but not as ornate as the lettering on my ankles. Just something simple." I told him as we stepped out of the elevator and searched for the office. I already had 3 tattoos, but 2 of them went together. I had a cross on my lower back and then I had 'Rage' on my left ankle and 'Love' on my right.
I know the ankle ones are from Green Day songs, but the tattoo doesn't represent that. The thing is, when anything neurological happens to me it will affect the left side of my body since it's occurring on the right side of my brain. Since most of my problems associate with that, 'Rage' only seemed appropriate. Then obviously, where else to put 'Love' but on the opposite ankle.
"I'm flattered," Tre said and I giggled. I rarely giggle so I covered my mouth after doing so. "There's nothing wrong with giggling, Steph. Anyway, I'm going to touch up your tattoo on my arm, add a little bit, make it nicer."
I looked at his arm where the two fish were, that formed a heart. Each fish had a letter in it, one S and one T. But my favorite one was the one on his back that simply said, "Your Lover's Name Here: x[u] Stephanie [/u]". It was just Tre's quirky way to say I love you. "There's no need to touch it up it looks fine to me."
Tre winked, "As one's relationship gets stronger, thee tattoo shall become more ornate."
"Whatever." I said, laughing. "Here we are. Dr. Wereie. Still can't figure out how I know that name. I bet it's irrelevant."
"Yep, I bet so."
Tre chuckled. "Hmm?" I said as I fumbled to find a mint in my purse. I found the box in success, "Found you, you little bastard! So anyway, what's so funny?"
"They thought I was an angry rapist," Tre smiled. "That's great stuff." "Har-de har har, you're funny now." "I know."
"We're at the right building right? University of Berkeley Cancer Center?" I asked as I popped a mint in my mouth. "Yeah I think so," Tre replied.
I unfolded a sheet of paper that I had in my hand. "Floor 6, Dr. Wereie. Is that how you pronounce it? Wear-ie?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Interesting."
"What's interesting about it?"
"Name rings a bell, I'm not sure how, but it does."
"That's weird."
"Yeah."
We walked into a big room with a staircase in the center. To the right the wall had a sign on it that said 'Elevators.' "Elevator or stairs?" I asked. Before I could let him answer I decided for him, "Elevator. I don't want to get you to tired."
"You know, you don't have to baby me," Tre replied, a bit angry. I had been a little overprotective about him getting too tired in the past day, and I think it was getting on his nerves.
"I'm not babying you, I'm just trying to make sure you don't get more sick than you already are." But it was true, I was babying him. I just didn't want him to get hurt. I didn't feel like losing someone that actually loved me for my quirks and my sarcasm, and never made fun of me for being stupid. I didn't feel like losing someone that I meshed with. That worked. I didn't feel like losing someone I loved.
I've only loved someone once before, and his name still brings a pang to my heart when mentioned even if it's talking about someone else with the same name.
He was mean to me and didn't care about what I thought. We were good friends but he didn't know about how I felt. When he wasn't mean to me, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. Yeah right.
I've still kept in touch with him a bit during the past years, but for the most part we don't talk. I don't really like associating a lot with my teenage life it's something I'm not really proud of and want to get away from.
The town that I grew up in was an extremely wealthy town and had a horrible reputation as everyone being rich snobs. A lot of people weren't, but just the same a lot of people were. No one really noticed anything important in life and took everything for granted.
When I was in middle school, I told everyone numerous amounts of times that the second I'm old enough, I'm out. And that's exactly what I did. I couldn't stand being trapped in that little world anymore I was about to go crazy. It was so full of conformity it made me sick.
That's why I loved going to California so much I got to get away. Every few months I needed a week's worth of fresh air, and staying with the Armstrongs gave me that.
Tre and I stepped into the elevator and I pressed the 6 button. "You know," I said. "I think I'm going to get a new tattoo tomorrow. In your honor."
Tre smiled, "My dear, how shall one go about doing that?" "Well it'll probably be just above my waistline on my front left. It's going to say 'Life is Tre Cool' on it in cursive, but not as ornate as the lettering on my ankles. Just something simple." I told him as we stepped out of the elevator and searched for the office. I already had 3 tattoos, but 2 of them went together. I had a cross on my lower back and then I had 'Rage' on my left ankle and 'Love' on my right.
I know the ankle ones are from Green Day songs, but the tattoo doesn't represent that. The thing is, when anything neurological happens to me it will affect the left side of my body since it's occurring on the right side of my brain. Since most of my problems associate with that, 'Rage' only seemed appropriate. Then obviously, where else to put 'Love' but on the opposite ankle.
"I'm flattered," Tre said and I giggled. I rarely giggle so I covered my mouth after doing so. "There's nothing wrong with giggling, Steph. Anyway, I'm going to touch up your tattoo on my arm, add a little bit, make it nicer."
I looked at his arm where the two fish were, that formed a heart. Each fish had a letter in it, one S and one T. But my favorite one was the one on his back that simply said, "Your Lover's Name Here: x[u] Stephanie [/u]". It was just Tre's quirky way to say I love you. "There's no need to touch it up it looks fine to me."
Tre winked, "As one's relationship gets stronger, thee tattoo shall become more ornate."
"Whatever." I said, laughing. "Here we are. Dr. Wereie. Still can't figure out how I know that name. I bet it's irrelevant."
"Yep, I bet so."
