Free Perfect Collision by Lina Andersson

shrugged. “Vi looks a lot like Lisa. They're not that different.”
    “Had a feeling that was the case. Teenage girls tend to have a fucked up self-image. JB's seems a bit more fucked up than usual.”
    “How's that?”
    Trixie chewed her gum, blew a bubble, popped it loudly, and smiled. “She thinks she's butt ugly. Like really fucking ugly. I think that's why she keeps her hair purple, to keep people from looking at her face.” He stared at Trixie, and she winked at him. “Told you, more fucked up than usual.”
    Mac wondered why Trixie was telling him this, and he kept staring at her for a while until they both started laughing. It was just so fucked up Vi would think something like that.
    He knew Mel had been upset about how Ella was treating Vi. Mel and Ella might have been friends, but that part had bugged her, and Edie had basically stopped talking to Ella. She couldn't stand her. Mac hadn't thought about it much at the time, since he hadn't seen much of Vi.
    Back then, if he ran into Vi, it was usually at Dawg's place. She'd barely answered him when he said hi, but he'd assumed it was because of her crush on him. He'd never seen her as anything but pretty, but since he'd come back from Kansas he'd thought she was beautiful. Not even mentioning sexy. It might make him feel like a perv, but he still thought it every fucking time he saw her.
    “Hey,” Vi said from the door to the back rooms, looking carefully between him and Trixie.
    Ugly? He couldn't get over it and kept staring at her. It was obvious to him most chicks were crazy as fuck when it came to what they thought they looked like, but Vi thinking she was ugly seemed insane.
    “Everything okay?” she asked when the two of them didn't answer her.
    “Yeah. Sorry,” he said and got up. “You ready?”
    She nodded and gave Trixie a shy, strange look. When he got into the room, she turned her back to him and started to prepare. He took off his hoodie and t-shirt and sat down behind her. She still hadn't said anything, and he wondered if something was wrong.
    “Are you okay, Vi?”
    “I'm fine,” she answered immediately. “Lie down.”
    She put her hair up before turning around, and she looked at him while she put her rubber gloves on. He chuckled.
    “Purple gloves?”
    “Sami thought I should have them,” she said and then pointed at his side. “So, here?”
    “Yeah.”
    For the first time she looked straight at him, and she did it with a creased brow. “I'm not sure it's going to fit there. It needs a flat surface to look good.” She pointed at the upper part of his chest, just beneath his left collarbone. “It would probably look better here, but I can try it where you want it.”
    “No, try it where you think it'll be best,” he said. He'd learned early on that the best way to get great ink was to trust the people who did it for a living.
    He watched her shave and disinfect the area before reaching for the stencil. When she leaned forward to place it, he could clearly smell her hair. He was hoping it would hurt like hell, because if it didn't he'd be lying there with a boner for hours. He kept watching her. Her pouty mouth with full lips and heart-shaped face that came together in the dimple of her chin. As far as he could tell, there was not a single fucking ugly thing about her, and that was just her face. That thick, rich, curly, violet hair, and her slender body—down to her fine limbs. Her wrists were so delicate they looked like bird's bones. She was perfect to him.
    “When are you getting ink?” he asked mainly to have something to say.
    “I don't know. I'm not sure what I want.”
    “You can't be a tattoo artist and not have any ink.”
    “Why not? It's not like the fact that I'm covered in ink says anything about my work.”
    “Maybe, but how are you going to try to convince others to commit to lifelong ink unless you have it yourself?”
    “Why would I try to convince people to do something that'll last forever?” she