"Immy, do you think I have talent? I only learned from my instructor for one week, and you got my very first piece! Curtis wanted one, but I couldn't bear to waste it on him!"
Gretchen shot Curtis a coy look, flirting with him right in front of me.
"Curtis, doesn't this design look familiar?"
He thought about it, but couldn't seem to place it.
Gretchen sighed.
"God, boys are so clueless. Imogen, let me tell you. He designed this pattern for me when we were kids."
"Said when we grew up and got married, he'd put it on our marriage certificate. Such a shame—I don't think that's ever going to happen now."
Her face was full of wistful regret. I was shaking with rage.
"If it's your memory together, why didn't you tattoo it on yourself? Why put it on me?"
Gretchen stuck out her tongue, playful as ever.
"Oh come on, I'm scared of pain! Curtis said your dream is to be a police officer, right? This little sting is nothing. Stop being so dramatic."
My fists clenched so tight my knuckles ached, and my gaze cut into her like a blade.