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“With Ink-Grayson?”
“Your ex, yeah.”
“Resist sleeping with him?”
“Duh. You’re stalling for time. Just spit it out before I get annoyed and hang up. And you don’t want me to hang up, because there’s one more thing I need to tell you about these fucked up ink things.”
“Ugh. Whatever.”
I grinned.
Grace continued. “At first, I’m not gonna lie, I would have given in. When I first saw him there in my apartment, on my bed. He’d taken me by surprise and I was… I dunno, overwhelmed.”
‘Overwhelmed’was a word for it. I closed my eyes and thought of the first time I’d seen Ink-Summer. I came home from work and she was there on the couch; the spitting image of Real-Summer. She was still blond, still had Real-Summer’s dragon tattoo on her shoulder, swimming out from under her tank top.
But something was different. It was like every sense and thought in my head was forced to point at her and only her. I could smell her familiar scent. I could feel myself trying to think,no, no, no,but before the thoughts could make their way through my head, they magically turned toyes, yes, yes.I could still remember the way she gracefully stood up and strode over to me. And then how she immediately came on to me, called me a piece of shit, brought me to my knees…
“Go on,” I encouraged.
“But then, when we met up again, he was… I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Something was missing,” I offered.
“Yeah! Yeah…”
“His soul, probably.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“What do you expect? These things bring nothing but drama into your life.”
“Well, yeah, Grayson’s been causing drama.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, duh. Did you try breaking up with him or something stupid like that?”
“…I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea for us to see each other anymore,” Grace admitted.
“So you pissed him off. You know, that’s what they feed on. Congratulations, little Sugar Plum Fairy, you made him stronger.”
“If I’m not supposed to make Grayson mad, what am I supposed to do about him?”
“Figure out what fucked up part of you he is, then make peace with it,” I said in a low voice.
She needed to understand this. She needed to get the message.
“I think… I think he’s my anxiety.”
“Oof,”I said, leaning back in the chair. “That’s a rough one. Anxiety at the black heart of an ex like that? He’s gonna eat you alive.”
“You’re not helping,” she said, her voice trembling.
I sat up abruptly, but I couldn’t make myself say sorry, because I wasn’t. I only ever wrote that word on my money, and it was only ever to apologize for the crazy shit Summer did. “I want to help. Look, this leads into the other thing I was gonna tell you about them—”
“How do I get him to leave me alone?!”
“—you ignore him.”
She was silent for a beat. Then she said, “That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard.”
