“Fineeee,” she groaned. “But you’re getting up.” She ripped open my bed curtains. “And we’re making a list.”
That could’ve meant anything, but I didn’t argue. I blew my nose while she fixed a sheet of parchment to a clipboard. Inan official manner, she handed it to me, then fierily tossed a turquoise felt-tip pen at my head.
“Three things that make a good boyfriend,” she instructed. “Go.”
I looked up at her, not amused. This was our —oh, I don’t know— tenth discussion about Gray, which I’d mostly permitted because, sometimes, it was the fastest way to get her to leave me alone. She’d asked about the dates we went on and what kinds of presents he got me (my answer wasn’t pleasing); she knew how often he messaged and about our long-term plans (which there were none). But I made her the list.
Four words written down hastily so I could go back to daydreaming.Brave. Responsible. Open. Communicative.She’d asked for three, but I couldn’t pick.
Skye snatched the clipboard from my hands. “Let’s start with brave,” she said, wielding a red pen with terrifying authority. “Does stringing someone along for five years because you’re too scared to say you’re not interested sound brave? No?” A line was slashed. “I’ll go ahead and cross off communicative for the same reason. Responsible? I’m hearing unprotected sex, asking you to drive impaired to the cheese place — ”
“Cheesecake Factory.”
“ — and I’m thinking responsibility is nonexistent.” She crossed the word out. “Open? Yeah, maybe. But starting a new hobby every week is alsoannoying. And if he was sad about his parents, why not say that? You could not be easier to say hard things to because all you do is digest them; therefore, the problem is him.” She handed back the clipboard. “Oh look,” she said, feigning shock. “Gray is none of the things on your list.”
“You don’t know him like I do. Gray is — ”
“Nothing you consider important. He wasn’tthere, you dork. Leland stayed awake all night to cast a Shield on you. You see the difference?”
“Leland cast a Shield?”
“Thefantasy,” Skye said, continuing her lecture, “is having your feelings reciprocated by someone who’s rejected you, and itisa fantasy because, in order to make it work, you have to inflate him. The Gray in your head does things real Gray never would. The reality is, you are very sweet and loving when you’re paying attention, and Gray never deserved you.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
LELAND
Jaxan D’Oron:I want a report on Ember in the morning. Friends, acquaintances, everyone she associates with should be included.
Leland Stray:On it.
Today, Lee,” Case groans. His voice, thick with annoyance, reverberates off the stone walls of the tavern’s cellar.
I have no clue how long I’ve been staring at my transmitter. I shove it back in my pocket and strike the cue ball. Scratch. I watch it roll toward the pocket like I’m walking toward death. Breathing hurts. Loud music makes focusing impossible, and pretending I want to be out at a party right now is even harder.
I lean the cue stick on the wall as Vyra does a victory lap around the pool table.
“Don’t you just love when he lets me win?” she sings.
“I need a minute,” I say. “Keep playing without me.”
On my way to the washroom, I survey the stairs, a prickling sensation tricking me into thinking any minute she’ll walk down them, but they’re as clear as the short hallway I’m standing in. My ears hum with the muffled chatter from upstairs. I try to isolate her voice but can’t. Giving up on that, I turn into the tavern’s washroom to splash my face with cold water.
Ember went against Jaxan today.
Brave.
But it’s a game she can’t win.
I never did.
The washroom fades away, and I’m five years old again.
“It’s spicy.” I flip my spoon upside down and a soggy cluster of wheat flakes hits the bowl of room-temp milk with a splash.
“Uninhibitor isn’t spicy,” Jaxan corrects. “It’s bitter.”
