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She’s right. We both have scars. Deep wounds that have since scabbed over, but that still haunt us every day. Though I don’t know what hers are, I’m willing to bet those knives cut just as deep.
“Yeah, we are.”
“So how did you turn out normal? Mommy dearest, succubus sister . . .”
I shrug. “What’s normal?”
She smirks. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
I pause because I’ve wanted to ask this for a long time, but I’ve never had the courage to.
“Do you think . . . do you think Mason blames himself for whatever happened with Marcus.”
Her eyes fill with disgust at the name, as if saying it three times will cause him topoofmagically into the air.
“He does,” she bites, but that anger dissipates as her eyes fill with tears. “I hate that he went to live with our grandmother because Marcus didn’t want him at home. I hate that he’s built all this by himself when we should have been there to help him. He’s been on his own for a long time. Until . . . now. He’s hard on himself. I hate it, but . . . we’ve never been that close.”
“There’s still time,” I offer and she nods slowly, gaze trained on her hands.
“Yeah, I guess so. We’re working on it. Slowly.” She clears her throat, finishing her lemonade. “Hannah, I want to ask you something.”
“Of course,” I answer, though I’m not sure if I really want to.
“Do you love Mason?”
I nearly choke on an ice cube, coughing and sputtering as it slides down my throat.
“I’m sorry?”
“Do you love him?” she repeats.
“Love isn’t the end of pain,” I explain, though my chest aches because, of course, I can’t stop thinking about the disgust on his face when he found out we’d forgotten a condom. “If I loved him, it wouldn’t change anything.”
She actually chuckles this time.
Rude.
“Wow,” she breathes, shaking her head. “We really are alike.”
“What does that mean?”
For the first time since I’ve met her, a smile tugs on her lips, but she pushes it down.
“You’ll see.”
She gets up from the table, crosses to the sink, and rinses her cup out.
“Well, I’ve got to go. I wasn’t supposed to be out today, with everything happening, but I nearly forced Antonio to bring me over because I needed to get this off my mind.”
She pauses on the way back, stooping down to pick up the little box on top of the trash.
“This is going to fuck you up.”
“Wonderful.” I’m not bitter or anything.
“While it grosses me out to think about my brother having sex withanyone,” she sighs dramatically, chucking the box back in the can. “I can’t say I haven’t been there myself. Shitty ex-boyfriend,” she winks.
“Savannah?” I call when she starts to walk away and she stops turning back to me. “How did you and Logan figure it all out?”
