A/N: Now it is time for the tattoo story! We are almost done with Quinn's Summer Adventures aka the Summer of the Skanks. Next up: the Skank name origin story and the finale.
Quinn had no idea where to get a tattoo and didn't want to ask the other girls because she had a feeling they were already getting a little concerned considering the pink hair and everything.
It infuriated Quinn that even though she had pink hair and replaced her American Eagle wardrobe, people still viewed her as the proverbial picture of innocence despite the fact that she got pregnant her sophomore year. She resolved to ask Frankie even though she knew he would probably tease her which annoyed Quinn to no end.
Honestly she was tired of Frankie but he had his own car, his own job, and liked her enough to buy her beer without expecting too much in return. Quinn refused to have actual sex for fear of getting pregnant again and but she told Frankie he could tell those little adoring stoner fan boys who hung around him whatever he wanted so long as it wasn't too dirty. Frankie had laughed when she said that.
Speaking of Frankie, he was late picking her up. Technically he wasn't considering they never formly planned times and dates but it was 9 pm, it was dark and she wanted-no, needed to get that tattoo.
Quinn drew possible tattoo designs with her foot onto the concrete: a rose, a dragon, and a scorpion. A car's bright headlights shone on her and she knew that it was Frankie. About time.
Without saying hello, she got into his car. ''What are we doing tonight?'' she asked, hoping that he wouldn't have any suggestions. Frankie didn't anser and pulled something from his wallet and gave it to her. Quinn took it; it felt like a laminated card. What was it, a gift card to Breadstix? Quinn strained her eyes to see that it was a mature looking blonde woman's drivers license with the birth year listed as 1988. It was a fake ID.
''Where did you get this?'' asked Quinn as she examined it and compared it to her real one.
''I got a friend who owes me a favor.''
Quinn didn't say anything but she smiled at him. ''So what am I supposed to do with us?'' she asked coyly. Frankie shifted the car's gears and pulled out of the skate park.
''You ever been to a bar?''
Roadhouse, the bar Frankie took her to, was a sad homage to the Patrick Swazye film complete with a life size cut out of the now deceased actor near the door. It was dark, dingy, and horribly low-rent. The old Quinn would have stuck out like a sore thumb in her pastel baby doll dresses and striped cardigans. The new Quinn, however, was pretty inconspicious even with her pink hair. There was even a middle aged biker couple that sported matching purple mohawks. Quinn's heart panged as she realized that Noah Puckerman had suddenly invaded her thoughts. She thought, what seemed a lifetime ago, that she could possibly been in love with him and that they could have maybe raised Beth in a happy teenage parent family. Quinn quickly swallowed more off the crappy beer Frankie had bought her to drown her thoughts out because if she thought about Beth she was probably goig to cry and she didn't want to explain why. Everyone thought she was an ice queen anyway. Finn had once asked her of she even felt anything. The answer was yes, and sometimes she worried that she felt too much so she buried it inside lest she lost control. And Quinn hated being out of control.
''What are you thinking?'' asked Frankie.
''What would you think if I got a tattoo?'' Quinn took another large swig of her beer and discreetly wiped the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes before anyone noticed.
''A tattoo?'' Frankie scratched his chin stubble thoughtfully. ''I guess it could be kinda hot...especially if you got it in a place very few little people knew about.'' Frankie began to nuzzle Quinn's neck affectionately and she laughed.
''I'm serious, though.''
''Why do you want one?''
Quinn shrugged. ''I want something to say that I'm not the same person I was before.''
''And you think a tattoo is going to do that?''
''Well it's not going to be counter effective is it?''
Frankie laughed. ''Well you've already got your mind made up, don't you?''
"Okay, I'll take you but let's have another beer first."
Twenty minutes later, Quinn was a lot much drunker than she had intended to get but she was in a tattoo parlor and that's all that mattered.
"So what do you want?" murmured Frankie as he wrapped his arms around her waist, spinning her to face all the designs on the wall. They all blurred together and Quinn shut her eyes to steady herself. Being drunk felt more like being really sleepy—she could barely keep her eyes open and the room kept shifting underneath her feet. With her vision impaired, Quinn randomly stabbed a design on the wall. Frankie laughed.
"Let's do it before I change my mind," slurred Quinn as she got into the tattoo artist's table and lifted her shirt to expose her lower back.
In the morning, back in her own bed, Quinn groaned as the early morning sun flitted through the blinds at hit her face. She didn't even remember getting home but she did remember quietly sneaking into her bedroom and falling face down on her mattress. Hopefully, her mom wouldn't say anything to her; she had a feeling that she was going to be hung over.
Quinn pulled the covers around her and rolled onto her back.
"Ouch!" she cried and she rubbed her lower back, hoping to make the pain go away. Then she remembered.
Quinn ripped the covers off her and went to her mirror to check out her new tattoo. To her dismay, instead of a traditional flower or Chinese character or animal, the face of Ryan Seacrest was now permanently inked on her skin. Quinn's head throbbed and she went back under the covers, railing at her drunk, angry self.
Why didn't I just get a dolphin? she wondered.