5 tattoos for $1OO and other things I should always remember.

"Where are you goin' Jerrell?"

"I gotta head outta here," he says with a smirk.

"Where're you goin' that's so important you can't even finish this essay?" Keeping Jerrell here is always a struggle, but his innocent teenage face is so revealing that I can't help but know what kind of agenda he's got in mind.

"My deal ends at 5. I gotta get me a tattoo. Five of 'em. For one hundred dollars." The light in his eyes flashes across the room as his smile engulfs his face.

"You're getting five tattoos? All at once? Because it's cheaper?" Obviously, I don't understand the outstanding value of this opportunity.

"Oh yeah, Miss Laura. Five for one hundred. Best deal around."

"Alright, I hear ya. Whatcha gonna get?" Clearly someone with an aspiration for five tattoos at once has to have an intricate plan for his tats.

"Oh, I dunno. Whatever I think of when I get there. Like, if I'm sittin' there, and I think of my gramma, that's what I'll get. Or if I think about my sisters, I'll get summa their names. Or else, I'll get my momma's name again. Or maybe even, if I think about GED school, I'll get that." His transparent face shows his mind searching through the list of everything that exists in his life, mostly bound by the borders of his neighborhood.

"You'll get our program name tattooed on yourself?" Is he serious?

"Oh yeah, Miss Laura. Whatever comes to my mind." He is.

"Okay, well get my name if you think of me, k?" I know that'll get a chuckle out of him, and it does.

"Awright, Miss Laura. Is that my homework?" The light in his eyes spews out into the drab room once again, and I can see more clearly.

"Yeah, and write three paragraphs about it, too."

Sure, Jerrell, you can go get those tattoos, as long as you keep that sparkle in your eye.