I was fifteen when I saw my mom again after she left our family. When I saw her, I wouldn't have been able to tell anyone what I was feeling. I was overwhelmed by feelings of anger and the need to hug her. That was my mom, the woman who used to tuck me into bed at night and make my hair look nice. She had been standing right in front of me once again, but I couldn't do a thing.

****

I roll over onto my back and look over at Moose who is staring at me like he had no idea how this had just happened to me. With his head perked to the side, he licks my face and plops down beside me on the grass.

My phone rings suddenly, causing me to search my pockets. After I find it lying in the grass on the other side of Moose, I answer before I look at the caller ID.

"Hello?" I answer, slightly winded. I hit the ground hard, man.

"Jordan!" Her familiar voice brings a small smile to my face. She remembered that today was my first day of college. Mom contacted me about a year and a half ago and apologized for everything. I don't know if maybe I had time to change my mind about her or if Jonah's influence had been loosened with him so far away, but I forgave her. Or, well, I'm still forgiving her. But it's going well. We call, text, and facetime all the time to stay in touch. The only trouble is hiding from my family who I've decided to keep in the dark about my decisions until I have them figured out myself. I can't imagine what they would have to say.

I look around me just in case Dad or Laura decided to come outside. "Hey, Mom," I say into the phone.

"How was school today? Did you make any friends? Send me any pictures you got – oh! And did moving into your dorm go well?" I let her ask all her questions before I answer any of them.

"It was good. It's definitely different, but I like it. I met my roommate too, and we talked a little."

Mom lets out a happy sigh. "Great! How was she?"

The image of Lanie unpacking her many bags of things pops into my brain. "She's cool. I've only spent like twenty minutes with her, so..."

"I'm sure you'll become good friends." Either Mom doesn't know me well or she really thinks I've become some sort of social butterfly. Most people would be shocked to know I even spoke to her.

"I wish you were here so I could talk to you in person. We could go get our nails done or something..." I trail off, slightly regretting saying it.

"One day I will make the trip and we'll spend lots of time together," she tells me.

"I guess moving back is out of the question?" I ask hopefully. I'm not sure how the rest of my family would react, but I want her around. I miss my mother.

"Honey," she starts, and I can hear the serious yet soft toe taking over her voice. "We've talked about this before. Jarod's whole family is here in Arizona. Don't worry though, I can come visit you, and you never know! Maybe you'll end up moving here one day."

Even just the thought of it... There's no way. It's too hot, and I'm finally home in Tennessee. How could I leave again?

"Yeah," I reply quietly. I remind myself that I'm her family, and all of her family is here in Tennessee, not in Arizona with Jarod's. Who, by the way, I've only met once in my whole life and spoke to him every once in a while on the phone.

Mom bounces back to her good mood. "Have you talked to Jonah?" She asks hopefully.

"No." I stand up from my spot on the grass and get comfortable on the hammock. "Hopefully soon though."

She's quiet for a few shorts seconds as she gathers her thoughts undoubtedly. "Okay. I have some news to tell you both, but that's the thing – I wanted to tell you both, at the same time. If only he would speak to me."

"I'll try to talk some sense into him, Mom. I promise."

I've tried to tell Jonah about my weekly calls to Mom several times, but each time I chickened out. He's always had such strong feelings about the whole situations; feelings of anger. He's hated Mom ever since the day we figured out she wasn't coming back.

Of course, I was too. But I've found forgiveness much easier than him.

"Does he know that we've been talking?" Mom asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Um..." I trail off. "I'm getting to it."

"I wish I could..." Mom begins, but she stops herself. I instantly feel bad for her, and little angry with Jonah for making her feel that way. "Well, next time you talk to him, tell him I love him."

I nod my head but then realize she can't see me. "I will. And, is the news good or bad?"

"It's good, sweetheart." I feel myself relax a little. "I have to go now, but I'll talk to you later?"

"Of course," I mumble. My tiredness is still creeping up on me like a stalker.

We hang up and I lay my phone on the ground below me. No more distractions now between me and my eyelids.

**

I head back to school when I wake up from my nap. It was much needed, giving me the energy I need to "get to know" my roommate some more. I can't be living with a stranger for the next school year.

Lanie is lying on her bed with a book in her hands when I walk in. She lowers it just enough so I can see her eyes. They scrunch up as she smiles at me.

"Hey," she greets me, twisting so she's lying on her side with her book on the bed beside her.

"Hey," I reply. I set my bag down on my bed and pull out my laptop, setting it beside it. I automatically check my phone for a missed FaceTime call, but there isn't one. Something in me tells me it'll be okay. Just because I haven't spoken to my brother in a month doesn't mean something happened.

"Jordan?" I hear behind me. "Are you alright?"

I turn around to see Lanie sitting on the side of her bed, her fingers stuck in her book like they're bookmarks.

"Yeah," I assure her. "I'm good. Just... checking some messages."

"Oh," she says. She pauses for a minute, her facial expression turning thoughtful. "I know we don't really know each other, but you can talk to me about anything. If you want. I'm here."

She smiles softly and messes with her book pages. I look towards the window, hesitant to say anything more.

"There is something that I've been wanting to do, but I haven't wanted to go by myself," I explain.

Lanie places her bookmark in her book and holds it against her tightly, a skeptic yet interested look on her face. "...What were you thinking?"

"Have you ever gotten a tattoo?"

**

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lanie asks. We are standing outside the building of a tattoo parlor that I googled twenty minutes ago.

I take a deep breath. "I've always wanted one. And I know what I want..."

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Lanie look between me and the building. I finally look at her and see the hesitant look on her face. I can already tell just by looking at the girl that she doesn't do these things. She doesn't get tattoos or make spontaneous trips like this.

"You okay?" I ask her, a smirk playing at my lips. I try to hold it back.

Lanie straightens up, swallows quickly. "Of course. Someone needs to hold your hand, don't they?"

At that, I smile and nod my head. "Let's go before I change my mind."

Inside, it doesn't take long to get a spot. Within 20 minutes I am sitting in a chair about to get a tattoo on my wrist. I think about needing to hide it, knowing my parents will have something to say about it. But for now, this is about me.

"Are you ready?" The tattoo artist, a tattoo-covered girl with at least four piercings in her face. She smiles at me, a comforting gesture even with her black gloves and tattoo needle in her hands. So daunting.

"As I'll ever be," I tell her as I lie back. Lanie stares at me wide-eyed. Still, she grabs for my other hand and gives it a squeeze. I never meant to actually take her up on that offer. I take my hand out of hers and grab the seat, squeezing it as she begins tattooing my wrist.

I suddenly want to jump out of the chair.

An hour later, I'm standing at the checkout counter, hoping my hand isn't about to fall off. I pay the large, burly man standing behind the counter, holding my wrist close to me as to not bump it on anything. I may be a little bit dramatic, but it doeshurt. Not as bad as I thought it would, though.

I look down at the tiny quotation marks on my wrist and smile. It was so worth it.

"Is there a reason you wanted those as your tattoo?" Lanie asks, bringing me back down to earth.

I don't answer right away. Throughout my life I've been afraid of answering questions that would lead me to having to talk about my love of writing, or the fact that I want to be a published author. People never seemed to understand the love I had for it, so I hid it. I hid one of the most important things in my life in order to be accepted.

Not anymore.

"I am a writer," I say aloud, a smile growing on my lips. The burly man hands back my credit card and I shove it in my wallet inside my purse. Lanie and I turn to walk out the door, greeted by the darkness of the night. The streetlamps are burning, and cars are going up and down the street, their headlights shining in my eyes.

For only a moment, I'm back on the streets of San Francisco on my way home from a school on a day Jonah decided to ditch me. It was one of the first days I walked home by myself. The man came out of nowhere with a deranged look in his eyes. I never told my dad or Jonah what actually happened that night. I couldn't.

"Jordan?" Lanie's voice brings me back to reality and I look over at her.

"Huh?" I say, dumbfounded.

Her eyebrows furrow. "You spaced out there for a second. You okay? Are you feeling okay?" She looks pointedly at my wrist and acts like she's about to reach for it.

I pull it back gently and hold it close to my chest. "Oh. Yeah, I'm okay. Just... dark streets. They're sketchy, is all."

"We can take my car next time we go somewhere," she offers, smiling reassuringly.

I nod my head. "You have a car?"

"Yeah," she chuckles. "That's how I get home and back."

"Oh," I say. "I don't have a car. Or a license. I never really needed it in California." It never even dawned on me. I had my dad's assistant give me a ride home earlier today when he was on his way back from the office. It's nice that the office is conveniently downtown from campus. The old guy will probably be my ride for the rest of the year.

"You should get your license. Even if you don't have a car yet, you could drive your parents or something." Lanie shrugs her shoulders. We trudge up the hill towards campus, my legs feeling that familiar burn.

"Yeah, I might get it. What would it hurt?"

We continue our walk to campus where I feel safer knowing there are more streetlamps guiding our way back to the dorm. I can't help but to feel paranoid. The feeling hasn't left me since that night all those years ago.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lanie asks as we enter the dorm building. I press the elevator button.

"I'm good." I look down at my tattoo and force myself to think only of it. Focusing my attention on only this one thing will hopefully keep me from going back to that dark place. "I'm happy that I did this."

Lanie smiles. "Is that your major? Writing?"

"Creative writing," I explain. "I don't know what else I would want to be, honestly."

"Have you always wanted to be a writer?"

The question makes me smile. "Always. I used to fill up notebooks upon notebooks with stories and just whatever I wanted to write. I never stopped."

I think back to the girl that noticed all those things. I swear she had X-ray vision to see inside of people's thoughts and even their hearts. She could see that I had a passion that needed followed, and she encouraged me. It was what I needed to kickstart this journey. I smile when Layla's bright eyes pop into my head. But I can't think about her without seeing Jonah there, too. I miss them both.

Thinking of Jonah reminded me that I should try texting him. Once we're in the room I snap a picture of my tattoo and send it to him along with the message:

"guess what I got :)"

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Hiiii! Let me know what you thought! What do you think of Jordan's tattoo? How do you think other people will take it? ALSO: what do you think of Lanie?