Tattered Love (Needle's Kiss)

of my few pet hates, right up there with people who thought they were better than everyone else. Worse again were people who judged a book by its cover. Cliché, yes, but so fucking true!
    Unfortunately, not many people could see me through my jet-black hair, which every other week (only a slight exaggeration) had different colored streaks through it, bright green eyes and five foot six stature, with a decent serving of ink and piercings, and not pass judgment. Besides the fact that I was mostly tits and ass, and I dressed to play up my assets sometimes to the extreme. Hey, you got it, flaunt it, baby.
    My personal favorite judgments came from the woman who had called herself my mother.
    They went a little like this: “You could have been such a pretty girl if only you hadn't put all that stuff on yourself.” Oh and, “I would have grandchildren by now if you hadn't ruined yourself. Nobody wants’ a mother or wife looking so lower class, darling.”
    Yeah, a stellar mother I had, and I used that name very loosely. We didn't see eye-to-eye, and frankly, I never understood how my father had been married to her for ten years. They’d split up when I was thirteen, mostly because she had been cheating on him for years.
    My dad had kept me, and my lying, cheating mother moved right on in with said “on the side boyfriend” who was some kind of CEO and had been well equipped to keep her in diamonds and designer gowns, a lifestyle she’d preferred over being a wife and mother.
     

     
    I looked up at the sound of the bell jingling above the door.
    “How’s my best ho?” This was Teeny’s usual greeting; there was never a lack of smartass love.
    “Hey, Hooker, I missed your face. Trip’s in the back waitin’ on his donuts, babe. Just go on through and he'll get you all prepped up.”
    Teeny walked over to give me a one-armed hug and a big fat ol’ kiss and hurried on back to Trip's station. “Can’t keep a sexy beast like that waiting.” She threw over her shoulder as she went. As usual, she was decked out looking like a million bucks, mostly for Trip’s benefit no doubt. She looked good—she always looked fantastic with her pretty blonde hair that's as straight as a board, blue-grey eyes, and smoky make-up that gave her a sultry look. She might appear meek and quiet with her five-foot-three frame, but that girl was a firecracker. You would never guess from the way we talk to each other just what she meant to me. Teeny had always been there—at my worst, at my best. She was always in the wings, silently watching my back. She knew I could take care of myself.
    One of the many things I’d learned about Teeny growing up was she loved her sleep. Since the age of seven, when we had our first sleep over, it was obvious then. She was grumpy as all get out in the morning. This had only slightly improved over the years, significantly since she could drink a shit-ton of coffee. Another fact about Teeny that I discovered at age twelve, was you didn't mess with Teeny, her family or her friends. If you did, you'd get one hell of a serving; that girl had a temper worse than a rabid pit bull. At age seventeen, a house full of high school party goers and I watched her throw one hell of a right hook that knocked her cheating piece-of-crap boyfriend right on his ass. He was naked and caught red-handed, leaving him with a broken nose and two black eyes. Adding to his humiliation, he had to explain the rest of the school year how he was bested by tiny, little chick fists.
    Not twenty minutes later, Teeny came wandering out to the front desk blushing, closely followed by Trip wearing a smirk, mumbling about aftercare instruction sheets.
    “You need me to explain how to take care of it, Teen?” I questioned as I handed her the detailed instructions on cleaning and caring for a piercing.
    “No, I...I think I got it... I mean Trip covered it, ah I mean explained it... I'm good, fine, perfect. I'll catch you for coffee tomorrow morning. Bye, see ya, later,” she babbled with her head down, trying to hide bright, pink flushed cheeks. She slid some cash into my hand for her piercing and dashed out the door so fast, you would have thought the building was on fire. Strange, it was hard to embarrass Teen.
    I spun around and nailed Trip with a glare, asking “What the fuck did you do?”
    He smirked and sauntered away, totally ignoring me. I jumped up to follow him, intending to give him an earful, and get some answers, then