For our road trip to LA, Cedric had made another mix tape. When he saw that my car didn't have a cassette deck, he sighed and pulled out his phone to sync it up to the radio's bluetooth. "It's not the same," he moaned.

We drove through Starbucks and then hit the highway as the sun was still rising, since it was a five-hour drive. Cedric had a mini cooler full of snacks, as if we would starve before getting to campus, and we each had overnight bags, because we had convinced our parents that driving five hours back was too much in one day.

We were going to be spending the night in a hotel. The thought of it made my stomach flutter. Sure, we had some privacy, more at my house than his, but we hadn't yet spent the night together.

Some of the songs reminded me of last weekend, and I gripped the steering wheel, suddenly afraid I would drop into a memory. It hadn't happened while driving yet, but the time at the costume shop had freaked me out. I preferred to remember when I was sleeping.

Despite the coffee, Cedric reclined his seat and dozed for the first hour, his pink hair blowing in the wind from the open windows. I sneaked glances over at him, feeling absurdly happy. Maybe my past life memories weren't real, but if they were, that meant Cedric was my soul mate, and I had found him while I was still young. We would be together forever. A warm feeling burrowed in my chest at the thought of spending our lives together, not having to worry about going on endless blind dates until I found The One. Not many people could say that, not even my own parents.

When Cedric roused himself, he flipped over to a different playlist. This one was also mostly 80s music, more synth and upbeat. "I hope this tour isn't as boring at the one I went on last weekend," Cedric said, rummaging through the cooler for a bag of trail mix. "Although I think was my dad who made it boring. He had so many questions."

This was my first campus tour, though my next few weekends were full of them. "We have to ask questions?"

"No. No we do not. But my dad wrote me out a list if you should feel compelled." The song "Sussudio" came on, and then Cedric asked, "Do you really want to go to UCLA?"

"It's my safety school." I felt his eyes on me, and I glanced over. "What?"

"I mean, didn't you say Brent and Chris lived in LA?"

Even though I hadn't even mentioned that I knew Chris had gone to UCLA, he had figured it out. "Yeah." I swallowed. "Yeah, I mean, it was my safety school before that, too. But I wasn't planning on touring the campus before."

Cedric nodded, then perked up. "Do you remember the name of the club in LA?"

The thought of going to club with Cedric, dancing with him, made me flush. I swallowed. "No... it's just all flashing lights and loud music. Sorry."

"Even if you did remember, it's probably shut down. There aren't that many famous clubs in LA. Everything there is so temporary."

"Temporary. And fake."

"Oh yeah. LA's fake, for sure."

"I wonder if we both feel that way because we lived there before."

"That's an interesting way to look at it. You think we were like that? All fake tans and nose jobs and bleached blond hair?"

I tried to recall anything about myself in that past life. I knew what Brent had looked like, and he hadn't looked fake at all. But I couldn't see myself, other than the outfit I'd worn. "Probably not."

"I can't imagine you bleaching your hair no matter who you were in a past life." Crunching a handful of nuts and granola, he said, "Hey, you think my fear of snakes is because I got bitten in a past life and died?"

Laughing, I said, "Maybe?"

"I'm also a little afraid of bats."

"Maybe you were a vampire in a past life."

This back-and-forth lasted most of the way to LA, in between discussions about where we should have dinner ("We should get room service and a couples massage, and then we can have sex all night," Cedric said) and clubs we could get in ("I didn't bring any clubbing outfits," I said, to which Cedric responded, "Do you even know what a 'clubbing outfit' would look like?").

The campus tour started at one, so we had a few hours to kill before it started. We sat out on the grass and ate our lunch, then went to check in. There were about thirty or so prospective students, along with their parents. Cedric and I lingered at the back, where we could hold hands without drawing too much attention to ourselves. Cedric also made it a game to drag me behind pillars or corners to kiss me while the tour leader talked about successful alumni and the history of each building.

When the tour was over and we headed back to the car, I said, "Well, I didn't learn very much about UCLA."

"What are you talking about? We learned so much. Like, there are so many places to make out on campus."

"That is true. Also, the dorms aren't bad."

"The dorms suck. They always show you the dorm without any furniture, but trust me, once you have all your crap in there, the rooms are much, much smaller."

We drive to the hotel and check in, and spend a few minutes jumping on the bed and making out and then we decide to dress up and go walking around to find someplace for dinner. Cedric wore  a chartruese and black checkered shirt with a vest and the collar turned up. I put on a pink button-down shirt with a bow tie that matched my checkered suspenders. "Ooh, fancy," Cedric said, sliding his fingers underneath the straps.

"I only wear these on special occasions," I told him.

"I mean, you're wearing color. And patterns. I barely recognize you."

I punched his arm. "Shut up." Then I kissed him, just to make sure he knew I wasn't mad.

We wandered a bit, finally settling on a Mexican food place, because our stomachs were rumbling and free chips and salsa sounded amazing. After dinner we held hands as we window-shopped.

It was getting dark and I was ready to head back, but Cedric tugged me toward a neon sign. "Let's get tattoos," he said.

My stomach flipped a little and my skin felt like it was buzzing. Like it would feel as a needle jabbed into me over and over again. The tattoo place had seen better days. There was an old phone booth outside the door, its sides covered in graffiti. The graffiti made it hard to tell if the phone had been vandalized or just removed. It could have been an art installment, if not for the shredded posters on the side of the building and the overgrown grass collecting trash along the sidewalk.

"You sure this is a good idea?" I asked as we entered the shop. Cedric didn't seem to pick up on what I meant, that maybe there was a better tattoo shop. The inside was brightly lit, at least, and cleaner than I had expected from the mess outside. The buzzing intensified.

"You boys have an appointment?" said a woman with a half-shaved head, leaning over another woman's back with a buzzing tattoo gun in hand.

"No, we're just interested in maybe getting tattoos," Cedric said smoothly, looking up at the photos on the walls. A few framed posters showed various popular tattoos: stars, hearts, butterflies, skulls, Celtic and tribal symbols.

"There are some books on the table over there, if you don't see anything you like on the walls. Rafe will be back a few, if you have any questions."

The tattoos on the wall, the ones that clearly weren't samples for drunk college students, showed vibrant, colorful works of art on skin. I could look at them objectively and see that they were beautiful, but I couldn't imagine having anything like these on my skin, forever.

Cedric plunked himself down in one of the seats in the waiting area and started flipping through one of the books, which was labelled "The Book of Fame." It was actually a photo album, filled with Polaroids.

"Wow, they've been here forever," Cedric said, pointing out some of the clothes of the first few pages. They had the distinct look of the 70s.

I turned away and crossed the shop to the opposite wall, which was covered in photographs and Polaroids. My mouth was dry. My body wanted to dry heave. I'd had a tattoo in a past life, I knew that much. Would I recognize the tattoo that had become my birthmark?

After gazing unseeing at the wall before me, I blinked and things went dark for moment. When my vision cleared, the photograph swam before my eyes, and then things went dark again.