She made a face and he stroked her hair and she leaned her head against his hand.

– Itll be cool. Itll hurt, but not bad. The hard part is over.

I leaned against the wall by the door.

– Until mom sees it and you have to explain why the hell you let some creepy tattoo artist poke a hole in your tit.

Chev stepped away from the girl.

– Go be useful. Now.

I slid my shades over my eyes.

– I am useful. I serve a constant reminder that youre not as cool as you think you are and that you used to run home early from school every day so you wouldnt miss Star Trek and it wasnt till you shaved your head and got inked and opened this shop that chicks like her would even look at you.

– Now, out, the fuck out!

I pushed the door open.

– And you have the whole original series on deluxe DVD and an autographed William Shatner picture that you got at a convention when you were fifteen and had chronic acne.

The door swung shut behind me as I walked into the sunlight, whatever Chev was saying to me muffled and lost.

I didnt need to hear it. Id heard it all before. Anything Chev has to say to me, Ive heard it. Most of it starts with asshole and ends with such a dick.

I dug in my pocket and found the six odd bucks left over from the breakfast run Id done over to the Dennys on Sunset. Id planned on using it for some tacos later.

– Crap.

I stuffed the money back in my pocket and headed out.

Mostly Chev is cool. Until a chick he thinks is hot comes around. Really, its not any different from our whole lives. Only difference is, back when we were kids, Chev turned into a worse stuttering dork around hot chicks than he already was and tried to make up for it by being a dick toward me. He doesnt get nervous anymore, mostly, but he still acts like a dick toward me. Which, sure, sometimes I deserve it, but mostly hes just trying to be cooler than he is. So whos the dick?