Page 42 of Hypnotized By Love

“Like a date?” she said brightly.

There it was. “Not a date. We’re hanging out.”

“Are you going to work things out with him?”

“Mom,” I said in exasperation, “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I understand that you’d like things to go back to the way they were, and I know I haven’t shared much about it with you, but there’s a lot of hurt and mistrust there.” And hatred. Seething, vibrant hatred, but she didn’t need to be reminded about that.

“I hope you give him a chance.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and everybody else,” I muttered as I walked upstairs.

Maybe there was something in the water that made everyone take Mason’s side instead of mine, including my own family.

And I was the only person not drinking it.

The next morning, Sierra left me a text saying she’d meet me at Starbucks because she had an errand she had to run. My sister was not the kind of person who did things early. She had a tendency to show up late to everything. I had fully expected that we would drive over together, giving me the chance to grill her. It was odd that she had left.

Was she up to something?

I hated that this Mason stuff had made me suspicious of my twin.

Another reason to be mad at him.

Not that I needed a new one.

Sierra was on her phone when I arrived. I didn’t see Bridget. I went over to the table, and my twin set her phone down quickly, her expression a bit wary.

“It’s so early,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Why did we let morning people create the world’s operating schedule?”

“They did it while we were asleep,” I said. Part of me wanted to jump down her throat, but the other part didn’t like being angry with my twin, so I waited.

“Nana always says the early bird gets the worm, but as far as I can tell, the late bird gets a slightly smaller worm. There’s plenty of worms everywhere. Nobody needs to wake up early to get one.” Our grandmother often spoke to us in platitudes, as if they would solve all of our problems.

I wondered if she would have one for the situation I currently found myself in.

“I was hoping to skip the small talk today,” I said, trying to open up our conversation to more important matters.

“What did you want me to say? ‘Hey, Savannah, good to see you, and what do you think the meaning of life is’?”

No point in beating around the bush. “You’ve been talking to Mason behind my back. For years.”

“Yes.”

I was glad she didn’t try to deny it. “Why?”

“It’s a long story.”

“So tell it to me,” I said, sitting down in the chair across from her.

She leaned forward and reached for my hand. “I want to explain it all to you. I do. I just don’t think you’re ready to hear it yet. And before you freak out on me again, no, I don’t want to date him. We are just friends. Like siblings. Nothing more.”

I let out a sigh of frustration. I wanted to tell her that wasn’t good enough, that she was my sister and owed me an explanation, but that all sounded really selfish. Most likely because it was selfish. “It’s like you had a choice between what was clearly right and what was clearly Mason, and you chose him.”

“That’s not it. I promise that I will tell you. And soon,” she said. “When things calm down a bit.”

What did she think was going to calm down? Me? That wasn’t going to happen. Hurricane-force winds of hatred were still whirling inside me. “I can’t stand the idea that you’re keeping secrets from me.”

“It’s not a secret so much as not sharing certain information with you that I know will make you have a nervous breakdown.” She was teasing, but I heard the concern in her voice.

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