Meet Me Where the Oak Tree Grows

He paused, staring intently at me. "Were you bullied at school? Spill the truth."
My heart did a little flip-flop, and after some hesitation, I decided to come clean. I even told him about using his name to scare people today.
"You might seem naive, but you've got a knack for being clever when it counts." He nodded, saying, "Alright, I've got it. Just focus on your studies."
He didn’t look mad, so I pushed my luck a bit:
"Jonah, you’ve got to show off those big tattoos tomorrow and really freak them out."
He looked puzzled, "What big tattoos?"
It's funny, really. Even though Jonah's a tattoo artist, he doesn't have a single tattoo on him.
But no worries, I was prepared for this.
With my eyes lighting up, I pulled a stack of temporary tattoo stickers from my pocket and spread them on the table.
"Jonah, do you prefer a dragon or a tiger?"
The next day, most of the other parents had arrived, but there was still no sign of Jonah. I couldn't help but wonder if he’d had a change of heart.
On my thirtieth glance out the window, I finally spotted his familiar figure.
He was dressed in a black leather jacket, sporting sunglasses, and striding in his Martin boots, looking like a mob boss straight out of a classic
gangster flick. When he sat down next to me, the previously noisy classroom suddenly quieted down.
I patted my chest, whispering, "I thought you weren't going to show up."
His face was expressionless, "Almost didn't. It took forever for the security at the gate to let me in."
Then he shrugged off his jacket, revealing a plain black T-shirt underneath. Two tattooed arms were on display – one with a dragon, the other with a
tiger.
The group of girls, led by the tall one, had been sneaking glances and audibly gasped. The effect was immediate, and I gave Jonah a secret thumbs
up.
During the break, some boys in the class were whispering about Jonah's tattoos.

"Why do his tattoos look shiny?"
"Could they be fake?"
Hearing this, I tensed up a bit.
The person beside me leaned back in his chair, lowered his sunglasses with one hand, and stared at them with disdain.
"Some people know nothing. This is the latest tattoo technology."
I straightened up and chimed in, "Exactly! They know nothing!"
A group of boys behind us blushed, blaming each other.
"I told you it wasn't a temporary tattoo, but you insisted."
"Bullshit, I knew from the start it wasn't, but you wouldn't believe me."
Just as the parents were called out by the teacher to discuss the midterm results, my seat was immediately surrounded by people. Even those who
weren't familiar with me before came over. It’s like they forgot they used to bully me.
They chattered away.
"Your brother is so handsome!"
I replied, "He's very fierce."
"Your brother is so tall!"
I said, "He's great at fighting."
"How come we never knew you had a brother?"
I answered, "He’s in a gang, always dodging bullets, just took down a rival gang recently."
I added, "His temper is unpredictable, hates bullies and cliques, and won't hesitate to use his fists."
Middle schoolers in their rebellious phase are so gullible. Jonah's looks were intimidating and background mysterious. They believed everything I
said.

I was getting more into my stories when Jonah returned, hands in his pockets, standing right behind me.