Never Never: Part Three (Never Never #3)(5)

I personally think Janette’s presence will be more intrusive than helpful. At least Landon knows what’s going on with us. Janette doesn’t seem like she would take something like this very well.

She pulls a tube of lip-gloss out of her purse and begins applying it in the passenger mirror. “So where are we going?”

“To see Brett,” Charlie replies nonchalantly as she rifles through the box in the backseat.

Janette spins around in her seat. “Brett? As in Dad? We’re going to see Dad?”

Charlie nods as she pulls out her journal. “Yes,” she says. She looks up at Janette. “If you have a problem with that, we can take you back home.”

Janette clamps her mouth shut and slowly turns back around. “I don’t have a problem with it,” she says. “But I’m not getting out of the car. I don’t want to see him.”

Charlie raises an eyebrow at me and then settles back in her seat, opening the journal. A folded letter falls out and she begins to open that one first. She inhales a breath and then looks at me and says, “Well. Here we go, Silas Baby. Let’s get to know each other.” She opens the letter and begins to read.

I open a letter I’ve yet to read and settle into my seat as well. “Here we go, Charlie Baby.”





Charlie Baby,

My mom saw my tattoo. I thought I’d be able to hide it for a couple of years, but dammit if I wasn’t taking off the bandage this morning when she walked into my room without knocking.

She hasn’t walked into my room without knocking in three years! I think she assumed I wasn’t home. You should have seen her face when she realized what I had done. The tattoo alone was bad enough. I can’t imagine what would have happened had she realized it was a representation of you.

Thank you for that, by the way. Hidden meanings of our names was a much better suggestion than actually tattooing each other’s names. I told her the strand of pearls was a symbol of the pearly gates of heaven, or some shit like that. After that explanation, she couldn’t argue much, being as though she’s in Church every time the doors are open.

She wanted to know who did my tattoo since I’m only sixteen, but I refused to tell her. I’m surprised she didn’t guess because I’m pretty sure it was just last month that I mentioned Andrew’s older brother was a tattoo artist.

Anyway. She was upset, but I swore to her I wouldn’t get another one. She told me to make sure I never take off my shirt in front of Dad.

I’m still a little shocked we both went through with it. I was half-kidding when I said we should do it, but when you seemed excited, I realized how serious I was. I know people say to never get a tattoo in honor of someone you’re in a relationship with, and I know we’re only sixteen, but I just don’t see anything ever happening in this life that could make me not want you all over my skin.

I’ll never love anyone like I love you. And if the worst is to ever happen and we do grow apart, I’ll never regret this tattoo. You’ve been a huge part of my life for the sixteen years I’ve been alive, and whether we end up together in the end or not, I want to remember this part of my life. And maybe these tattoos were more of a commemorative thing than an assumption that we’ll spend the rest of our lives together. Either way, I’d hope that fifteen years from now, we will look at these tattoos and be grateful for this chapter in our lives, and there won’t be an ounce of regret. Whether we’re together or not.

I will say, I think you’re much tougher than me. I was expecting to have to be the one to calm you down and reassure you that the pain was only temporary, but it turned out to be the other way around. Maybe mine hurt more than yours. ;)

Okay, it’s late. I’m about to call you and tell you goodnight, but true to form, I had to get all my thoughts out to you in a letter first. I know I’ve said it before, but I love that we still write letters to each other. Texts get deleted and conversations fade, but I swear I’ll have every single letter you’ve ever written me until the day I die. #SnailMailForever

I love you. Enough to camouflage you into my skin.

Never stop. Never forget.

~Silas



I glance across the seat at Silas, but he’s engrossed in his own reading. I would like to see this tattoo in person, but I don’t feel comfortable enough yet to ask him to take off his shirt.

I flip through more letters until I find one I’ve written to him. I’m curious to see if I’m half as in love as he seems to be.



Silas,

I can’t stop thinking about the other night when we kissed. Or your letter explaining how you felt about it.

I’d never kissed anyone before. I didn’t close my eyes. I was too scared. In movies they close their eyes, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I wanted to know if your eyes were closed, and what your lips looked like when they pressed against mine. And I wanted to know what time it was so I could always remember the exact moment we had our first kiss (it was 11:00 o’clock, by the way). And you kept your eyes closed the entire time.

After I left, I went home and I just stared at the wall for an hour. I could still feel your mouth on mine even if you weren’t there anymore. It was crazy and I don’t know if that’s supposed to happen. And I’m sorry I ignored all your phone calls after that. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just needed time. You know that about me. I have to process everything, and I have to do it alone. And you kissing me was something that definitely needed processing. I’ve wanted this to happen for a long time, but I know our parents are going to think we’re crazy. I’ve heard my mother say people can’t really be in love when you’re our age, but I don’t think that’s true. Adults like to pretend that our feelings aren’t as big and important as theirs—that we’re too young to really know what we want. But I think what we want is similar to what they want. We want to find someone who believes in us. Who will take our side and make us feel less lonely.