Before I Die

“I do, but I’m not sure where.”

When she gives me a look of confusion, I explain. “Getting a piercing on a body part other than my ears is on my list of things I want to do, along with getting a tattoo.”

She nods in understanding. “Lift your shirt.”

“Huh?” I give her a perplexed look.

“There are only a few places to get pierced other than your ears: Nose, eyebrow, lip, nipples, naval, and clit.” My legs squeeze together at the mention of getting pierced down there, and Willow laughs.

“Exactly. And you don’t seem like a facial piercing kind of girl. So that leaves your nipples and belly button.”

Lifting my shirt, I say, “I’ll go with my belly button.”

Willow nods in agreement. “You have a sexy stomach. It will look great. Are you a girly girl or a tomboy?”

“Um, I guess a girly girl.” I like pink and to wear pretty dresses.

“How about this?” She reaches into a case and pulls something out. When I get a good look at it, I see it’s a ring. It’s a curved bar and tinted pink. The top has a rainbow-colored gem and the bottom is the same but slightly bigger.

“That’s really pretty.”

“Where are you planning to get your tattoo?”

“I’m not sure.” I look at myself in the floor-length mirror. I want it somewhere I can see but can still hide it when I need to. “What about right here?” I pull my shirt down slightly, exposing the area where my collarbone connects to my shoulder.

“That’s a good spot,” Ethan says, stepping into the room. He runs the tip of his finger along my collarbone and I shiver at his touch.

“I’m also getting my belly button pierced.”

“Willow, you do piercings, too, right?”

Willow snorts. “Yes, caveman, I do.”

She has me lie down on my back and tells me we’re going to do the piercing first to get it over with. After having me stretch my torso, she marks where she’s going to pierce.

“Breathe,” Ethan murmurs into my ear.

I do as he says, and then Willow pierces me. And just like that, it’s done. Another item checked off.

She puts the bar through and tightens the ball on top. “I’ll go over all the instructions with you before you leave. Bottom line, keep it clean. You can check it out while I draw up your tattoo, so you can tell me what you think. Anything in particular you want on it?”

I think for a second. The old me would’ve said a cross to symbolize Stephen being in heaven, but the new me hesitates. Ethan must sense it because he moves closer to me and says, “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I thought about a cross of some sort, but…”

“Angel,” he says, pulling a chair over to me and sitting down so we’re eye level. “Do you believe in God?”

I notice Willow leaves the room, giving Ethan and me a moment alone.

“Yes.” I might not be on speaking terms with him at the moment, but I still believe he exists. And I believe, despite Stephen making some poor choices, he’s in heaven looking down on me.

“Aside from your brother dying, what made you push your beliefs away?”

“My mom lied to me… to our family. She pushed God and the church on us our entire lives, but the whole time she was lying about who she was and the choices she made.”

“So, your issue is with your mom, not God,” Ethan points out.

“In my life, God and my mom are one and the same.”

“Only if you allow them to be. Tell me something, before your brother died, did you enjoy teaching? Going to church?”

I think about it for a minute. Aside from it feeling like my mom was suffocating me, I did enjoy teaching. I loved my students, and I loved running the youth group. “Yes.”

“Then why would you give your mom the power to take what you love away?”

“Before my brother died, he told me to live hard and love harder. Not to let Mom navigate my life. To live for myself.”

“And who says you can’t do that and still practice your faith?” He reaches around and pulls my list from my back pocket, opening it up. “There’s nothing on this list you would go to hell for, Nevaeh. You don’t have to choose: live for yourself or live for God. You can do both. You just have to find a balance.”

“For a man who doesn’t believe in God, you sure are supporting him,” I joke.

“I’m not supporting him, I’m supporting you.”

“What are we doing?” I ask Ethan. It’s the same question I asked him last night, but didn’t get an answer to. Not even a couple weeks ago, I was crushing on him, then I was fearing him, and now… now I’m pretty sure I’m falling for him.