#reckless mistake

Frankie wrapped a large towel around her almost-bare body, immediately pulling the ends of the fabric together, closing it just below her chin. “So where did you get those tattoos?” she curiously asked the girl beside her as she slipped her feet into her sandals. Her eyes slowly drifted up to meet Grace’s, a grin pulling at her lips. The younger of the two had noticed she had various tattoos on different parts of body, though she had kept her interest quiet. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t really that interested, but after the drinks they had consumed before swimming, she didn’t want Grace to think she was checking her out, either. “Wait how did you even get them? You’re not eighteen and I think that’s a rule,” Frankie added on, raising her brows at her realization.

Grace rubbed her towel over her body, trying to dry herself off quickly as she was eager to get back in her clothes. Bathing suits, or anything too revealing at all, just weren't for her. Shoving her damp feet into her boots, she turned to Frankie and raised a brow. "Oh, yeah, 'cause I'm all about the law anyway," she laughed, rolling her eyes and standing up from the seat as she prepared to head back to one of their rooms. "I did them myself. A few years ago, a friend of mine taught me how to do it. They're called stick-n-pokes. It's no big deal, really. Why, you want one?" she teased, shaking her head as she assumed Frankie would never do that to herself. Letting the subject go, she nodded towards the door. "C'mon, let's figure out which hell we want to go to. Your room or mine."

“A what ‘n what?” Frankie questioned, her brows furrowing together. “Uh huh!” she quickly nodded in response. Getting what Grace called a ‘stick-n-poke’ probably wouldn’t have been the niner’s best decision but she liked tattoos and never in a million years would her parents sign for her to get a legitimate one before she turned eighteen. “I like elephants. And pizza. Do people get pizza tattoos?” she wondered outloud as she began walking towards the exit of the pool. Frankie pushed the door open with her body, allowing Grace to exit behind her before letting it close on its own. “Would you really?”

Grace rolled her eyes. It seemed like she was constantly repeating herself around Frankie. That, or explaining everything she said. "A stick-n-poke. It's a home tattoo," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. A bit surprised when Frankie exclaimed that she wanted one, she stared at her for a moment to see if she meant it. She let out a small laugh at her suggestions and nodded. "You can get whatever the hell you want, Franks. I've got a UFO -- seriously, there are no limits," she reassured, wondering if that's really what she would request. "Sure, but it'll hurt like hell. At least for you," she warned, "But I can make it happen. What do you want?" she questioned as they made their way down the hall.

“That... makes sense,” Frankie nodded. “You just.. stick it and poke it,” she then added under her breath to herself, with a confused shake of her head. “Except the sky, people say that’s a limit, or... something,” she shrugged, trudging her feet along the hotel’s carpet. “Didn’t I just say elephants or pizza??” Frankie stated, giving a look of frustration that Grace hadn’t taken the hint. Her eyes shot up to meet Grace’s once more. “But what’s that s’posed to mean, at least for me?”

Grace scrunched her face up and looked back at her. "I mean, if you really wanted a tattoo of the freaking sky, I'm sure we could manage that," she told her, letting out another laugh. Reaching her door, she opened it and let Frankie in, rolling her eyes at her again. "I mean that I'm used to it because I've been doing it, but for you it'll be new, so it's going to hurt," she explained, reaching for her bag and finding all the items she needed. "Okay. Elephants or pizza? Pick one, I'll do my best."

Frankie shook her head. “I don’t want the sky, it was a... thing, a figure whatever.” Once they made it to Grace’s room, the young girl happily skipped in. Within a few seconds her sandals were kicked off somewhere in the room and she was making her way towards where she assumed to be Grace’s bed. She flopped down onto it, opening up the towel with a mischievous grin. “Paint me like one of your French girls,” she whispered, moving her body in what she thought to be a provocative pose. The position didn’t last long as she burst into a fit of giggles, closing the towel back up. “Pizza. I like pizza the best. Pizza’s great,” she decided through her laughter.

Grace didn't even try correcting her this time, just allowing her to ramble. She was setting her items out in front of her when she noticed Frankie posing. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You're lucky I didn't videotape that. No one would ever date you again," she teased, sitting down on her knees as she made sure she had all she needed. She then began to prep all her materials, nodding her head. "Pizza, got it. Where? Your ass?" she joked, looking up at her.

“Hey excuse you I will have you know that Jack happily did whatever with Rose after she did that so pfft on you,” Frankie defended, raising her nose at Grace. Her eyes watched as the other got all of the items prepared. It was a lot simpler than she had imagined, but truthfully, she didn’t know what to expect. Or even more truthfully, she wasn’t thinking at all. Frankie narrowed her eyes at Grace’s suggestions. “You just wanna touch my butt,” she countered, opening the towel up once again. “So no. Here,” she added, taking one of her hands to pat around her hip bone.

"You're no Rose," she reminded her with a smirk and shook her head. "Please, you have no ass," she countered, placing her hand on the area she wanted the tattoo. "Alright. This is going to take a while, so get comfortable," she told her, scooting in between the girl's legs and dipping the needle in ink. Bringing it to the skin, she glanced up at Frankie again before poking the needle into the skin. She had done this to herself plenty of times before but never to someone else, so she wasn't even sure she should be doing it at all. But given how much they had both drank and how careless she often was, she continued on anyway.

Frankie ignored both of Grace’s innocent insults with just a roll of her eyes. She held her breath as she felt Grace’s hand on her hip, her stomach tightening out of instinct at the touch. She lifted her head to see what the other was doing when she felt her maneuvering herself between her legs. “I told you I needed a penis, Grace,” Frankie finally joked once her breathing was somewhat back to normal. “Which reminds me, I--” she cut herself off, feeling the needle poke into her skin. Her face contorted at the sensation and she sucked in another breath. “I think I found one.”

Glaring up at her as she spoke, she scuffed. "You wish, Hollingsworth. You had your chance with me," she teased her. She looked up at her in confusion at what she was trying to say, continuing on with the image she was drawing into her skin as she waited for her to continue. "You found a what?" she asked, still not understanding. But just moments later, she pieced it together and shot a look back at her. "Oh, right. Don't tell me it's Tiny. I'm pretty sure the boy's a virgin and would run screaming if you touched him," she laughed, shaking her head and looking back down at her task. "But really, who is it?"

Frankie felt her eyes rolling again at Grace. “Didn’t want it,” she quickly mouthed back, making a face. The girl’s eyes flinched with every poke in her skin from the needle. It definitely wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed, but the process had already started -- she couldn’t just back out now. “Tiny? Ew, no,” she mumbled, closing her eyes as her face was pointed at the ceiling. “The music guy from the bus,” she nonchalantly answered, giving a light shrug of her shoulders. “Jonah. He’s cute, right?” Each poke caused a rise in her voice as she spoke, followed by a breathy sigh.

Grace laughed at the mention of Tiny and nodded. "Good. He couldn't handle you," she smirked up at her. Leaning her head in closer to her hip bone again, she focused in on what she was doing. "Jonah? Uh.." she said, trying to picture the guy in her head. "Right, him. I mean, not my type. Is he.. yours?" She questioned, instantly shaking her head. "Right, you don't have a type, you just wanna get laid," she reminded herself with a laugh. "So what, you think he'd be into it?"

“Oh my god, stop,” Frankie laughed, shaking her head. She kept her gaze off of Grace, her focus on the ceiling as if to distract her from the throbbing pain on her hip. At what Grace had to say next, she covered her face out of slight embarrassment. “I don’t know what my type is anyways, there’s only been one,” she stated with a muffled voice through her fingers. Frankie then let out a groan, letting her hands fall back to her sides to clench the towel beneath her. “Ugh, I don’t know. He wants to hang out all day tomorrow.... so I’m working on it, I think..”

"I think it's kind of bullshit that everyone should have a 'type,' anyway," she admitted, listening to her as she went on. "So what, you gonna fuck him all day, or?" she questioned, furrowing her brows. She still didn't like the idea of it at all. The girl was still hung up on Zig, and it didn't seem right. Thoughtlessly, she began moving the pokes in a different direction, forgetting the pizza idea entirely.

“There’s nothing wrong with people having certain things they like, Grace,” she shrugged. Or at least she didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. Frankie’s eyes widened and her face heated up with further embarrassment. “No! God, Grace. I don’t know what he wants to do all day but I doubt it’s that,” she quickly assured her. “Besides, I only need it once and then I’ll be good.”

Grace scuffed, "Yeah, I know, I'm just saying.. to expect there to be a consistent amount of people that come along that always seem to fit some description? I don't know, sounds dumb," she told her, shrugging her shoulders. "So what, you're just using him?" she asked, hoping saying all this out loud would make her think a little -- but Frankie didn't often do that. Still focusing on the tattoo, she was finishing off a "Z" now.

“You’re saying too many words,” Frankie admitted with a scrunched face. “No... well, maybe, but guys do it to girls all the time!” the girl tried to defend herself. “And I’m just trying to move on so.. people have rebounds for everything.” The idea made sense in her mind -- although she would have preferred to just get it all over with besides having to wait it out and actually get to fully know the person.

"Can't keep up?" she shot back, shaking her head again. Confused, she looked up at her again. "That doesn't make it okay, Franks. Not at all." She knew well enough that this Jonah guy could be doing the same thing with the same intentions, but she also had reason to believe that he was innocent, too. "Right. And those always work out so well," she muttered, beginning on the "I" on her hip bone. "I'm just saying, maybe be careful."

“No,” Frankie muttered, pressing her brows together. “Why do you even care? It’s not like I’m breaking his heart or something. And guys would love being able to do the do with no strings attached.” Her face clenched as Grace continued poking the needle in her skin and she sucked in a few more breaths. “I always use condoms. And at least it’s not a Princess I’m trying to fuck, or an Athlete,” Frankie huffed out as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I care because I don't want you to get into any other messes," she countered immediately, knowing Frankie was already far too deep in a disaster with Zig. "Fine, you're right," she murmured, but she still didn't really agree. She just hoped this other guy knew what he was getting into. But as soon as she mentioned the word 'athlete,' she couldn't help but think Frankie was hinting towards her. She narrowed her eyes at her, shaking her head. "Right, of course," she said through gritted teeth. It was just another indication that telling Frankie what was going on between her and Adam was a bad idea. Not saying another word, she began on the G, still annoyed with the girl sitting above her.

“I’m fine, mom,” she muttered, letting out a sigh. Despite the alcohol still running through her blood, Frankie was somewhat aware that Grace was getting an attitude with her. But with Grace no longer talking about Jonah, she didn’t want to, either. Instead her focus was on the dull pain in her lower half. Every now and then she would be hit with a sharp pain that caused her to flinch, but for the most part she tried remaining still. “Are you almost done with my pizza? This hurts like a bitch.”