shuts the front door and sits on the end of the couch. I sit in a chair on the other side of the room.
“Tell me everything,” I say just above a whisper. The energy between us is palpable. I grip the arms of my chair and stare at his tattoos, mesmerized.
“When I see a vision enough times to have a clear image of it, I tattoo it. The first time I did it was just instinct I guess. I’d been seeing this vision for years, since I was about seven. It was a bear. This one.” Baron pulls up his right sleeve to reveal his shoulder. It’s a bear, his mouth wide open and exposing teeth.
“At seventeen, I inked the bear on my shoulder because it had become such a part of me. Then the vision stopped. Pretty soon a new one began. After I saw it nightly for about a month, I inked it as well. And that vision stopped too.” He turns his left forearm up and points to a smaller tattoo just inside his wrist. It is two red dots with a red line over them. “The Mayan symbol for the number seven. Now that I know how to stop the visions, I don’t wait as long. As soon as I start seeing one enough to get a clear mental picture of it and an understanding of what it is, I ink it.”
“What’s the significance of the number seven?”
“I have no idea what its relevance to us is, but it’s considered nature’s perfect number. You see it in math, science, astronomy, religion, biology—”
“Wait a minute, how come Nodin doesn’t know about this?”
“Because I never told him. I mean, he’s heard about the visions before, years ago, and he knows I have tattoos, but he doesn’t know the tattoos are symbols. It’s not something I talk about. Since I began getting the tats, we’ve only seen each other a handful of times. The last thing we want to talk about when we hang out is anything SAI.” His voice, his demeanor, are so calm and confident they lure me to him. He knows who he is, a quality I’d do anything for. I want to take it off him and wear it.
“Why the secrecy?”
He shrugs. “I guess I feel protective of them. They’re sacred. I have them tattooed as a symbol—a ritual—to make them a part of me. It was never to advertise them.”
I nod, understanding. “So what do you think the visions mean?”
“I wish I could tell you. We’ll go through them and see what we can figure out.”
“Earlier at Nodin’s, when I arced, I heard you think something. I’m sorry if this seems invasive...”
“Go ahead.”
“You thought, ‘it’s her.’”
He leans forward. “That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about. I had a vision a couple years ago.” He closes his eyes. “It’s a pitch black night except for the full moon. I see the silhouette of a girl with long hair standing in a field with her back to me. There isn’t a sound, until a crowd of people I can’t see chant something so quietly I have to strain to hear it. They chant it seven times.” His eyes open and fix on mine. “You’re the girl.”
It feels like caterpillars are crawling under my skin. “What were the people chanting?”
To my surprise, he stands and pulls his shirt off. His body is perfection. Long and lean. Beautiful olive skin stretched over toned muscles. His jeans hang off his hips, accentuating tight abs. A huge yellow sun tattoo sits in the middle of his torso with long, red rays stretching across his chest and down his navel. Words are etched under the length of his collar bone and more ink peeks out from under his arm along the side of his body. My eyes drink him in.
Someone who looks like him should be arrogant, but he’s not. Confident, but not cocky. Intense, yet approachable. I’m out of my element. He’s not predictable like the guys I’ve been with. He doesn’t look at me like a conquest or as though he expects me to want him. He looks at me like a person.
“This is it,” he says, pointing to the script under his collar bone. “It took forever for me to learn what it meant. It’s not
“Tell me everything,” I say just above a whisper. The energy between us is palpable. I grip the arms of my chair and stare at his tattoos, mesmerized.
“When I see a vision enough times to have a clear image of it, I tattoo it. The first time I did it was just instinct I guess. I’d been seeing this vision for years, since I was about seven. It was a bear. This one.” Baron pulls up his right sleeve to reveal his shoulder. It’s a bear, his mouth wide open and exposing teeth.
“At seventeen, I inked the bear on my shoulder because it had become such a part of me. Then the vision stopped. Pretty soon a new one began. After I saw it nightly for about a month, I inked it as well. And that vision stopped too.” He turns his left forearm up and points to a smaller tattoo just inside his wrist. It is two red dots with a red line over them. “The Mayan symbol for the number seven. Now that I know how to stop the visions, I don’t wait as long. As soon as I start seeing one enough to get a clear mental picture of it and an understanding of what it is, I ink it.”
“What’s the significance of the number seven?”
“I have no idea what its relevance to us is, but it’s considered nature’s perfect number. You see it in math, science, astronomy, religion, biology—”
“Wait a minute, how come Nodin doesn’t know about this?”
“Because I never told him. I mean, he’s heard about the visions before, years ago, and he knows I have tattoos, but he doesn’t know the tattoos are symbols. It’s not something I talk about. Since I began getting the tats, we’ve only seen each other a handful of times. The last thing we want to talk about when we hang out is anything SAI.” His voice, his demeanor, are so calm and confident they lure me to him. He knows who he is, a quality I’d do anything for. I want to take it off him and wear it.
“Why the secrecy?”
He shrugs. “I guess I feel protective of them. They’re sacred. I have them tattooed as a symbol—a ritual—to make them a part of me. It was never to advertise them.”
I nod, understanding. “So what do you think the visions mean?”
“I wish I could tell you. We’ll go through them and see what we can figure out.”
“Earlier at Nodin’s, when I arced, I heard you think something. I’m sorry if this seems invasive...”
“Go ahead.”
“You thought, ‘it’s her.’”
He leans forward. “That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about. I had a vision a couple years ago.” He closes his eyes. “It’s a pitch black night except for the full moon. I see the silhouette of a girl with long hair standing in a field with her back to me. There isn’t a sound, until a crowd of people I can’t see chant something so quietly I have to strain to hear it. They chant it seven times.” His eyes open and fix on mine. “You’re the girl.”
It feels like caterpillars are crawling under my skin. “What were the people chanting?”
To my surprise, he stands and pulls his shirt off. His body is perfection. Long and lean. Beautiful olive skin stretched over toned muscles. His jeans hang off his hips, accentuating tight abs. A huge yellow sun tattoo sits in the middle of his torso with long, red rays stretching across his chest and down his navel. Words are etched under the length of his collar bone and more ink peeks out from under his arm along the side of his body. My eyes drink him in.
Someone who looks like him should be arrogant, but he’s not. Confident, but not cocky. Intense, yet approachable. I’m out of my element. He’s not predictable like the guys I’ve been with. He doesn’t look at me like a conquest or as though he expects me to want him. He looks at me like a person.
“This is it,” he says, pointing to the script under his collar bone. “It took forever for me to learn what it meant. It’s not
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