“Estranged sisters. It isn’t like we grew up together or anything,” she goes on with a shrug, as if it’s no big deal. And to her, I suppose, it isn’t. “I didn’t even know he existed before we met, and he had no idea about me. It wasn’t like we planned on it or anything. It just… it happened. Something pulled us together.”
Not knowing about each other might make it a little less weird, I guess. There are probably a lot of people out there who’ve never met some of their cousins, and dating a cousin is way less weird than dating, say, your own brother or sister, so it could be worse. I think there are some states out there where you can legally marry your cousin.
Sloane says, “We just connected. We both have a little bit of the rot in us. Nobody else really understands.” Those emerald eyes of hers zero in on me. “Well? Regret asking now?”
I’d be lying if I say I’m not shocked—them being related was not at all where I was thinking this would go—but in the grand scheme of things, does it affect me in any way? No. If Sloane and Elias are happy together, then that’s all that should matter, even if the majority of people would look at their relationship as taboo.
“No,” I say, though it does take me a little while. “Thank you for telling me. It just wasn’t what I was expecting.”
Tilting her head, she asks, “What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know.” And isn’t that the truth? It wasn’t what I was expecting, but I also didn’t know what I was expecting. All Iknow is, my love life isn’t the most complicated anymore. Even if I do have feelings more multiple guys at once, I’d still say Sloane and Elias have me beat. I don’t know what the future holds for them, but I don’t know that Sloane would ever really care about the world or what anyone thinks. She’s got enough money to pave her way for the rest of her life.
Heck, she and Elias could move to the middle of nowhere and no one would ever be the wiser. I don’t see her becoming a lumberjack or anything, but stranger things have happened.
“Are you going to think of me differently now?” she questions.
“No. I mean, it is a little strange to me, but as long as you two are happy then that’s all that should matter, right? I could never imagine dating one of my own cousins, but like you said, you didn’t grow up with him. I would imagine meeting someone when you’re older would be different.”
Sloane then says something that makes me nearly choke on the bite of pizza in my mouth: “He killed for me, you know.”
“What?”
“It was a home intruder. He came home and saved me. It was violent, bloody, and he was so angry—but it was perfect.” Sloane smiles, though that smile is mostly to herself. I don’t know anyone who could talk about murder and smile so softly like that, like she’s talking about getting the sweetest Valentine’s Day present. “When they’re willing to do anything for you, that’s when you know it’s real.”
The more she says, the more insane she sounds. I don’t think I’d ever want a guy to kill for me, but the thought, in a weird, psychotic way, is a little sweet, I guess. Hmm. Maybe Sloane is rubbing off on me too much, because I can honestly say that’s a thought I never would’ve had a year ago.
Then again, the me from a year ago definitely would not have been able to peer into the future and see where I am now. Things have changed.I’vechanged.
We finish eating our pizza, and then we return to the house. Elias isn’t home; he’s in class, so the house is quiet. Sloane stops me just before I walk into my bedroom and says, “Don’t, uh, tell Elias I told you about us. I’ll let him know. He can be a little touchy when it comes to that subject.”
“No problem,” I say. “Your secret is safe with me.”
She smirks somewhat. “And so is yours.”
It takes me a while to remember that I told her about liking more than one guy. With the weight of her truth, I completely forgot.
“If I were you, though,” she goes on, “I would figure my feelings out. See if you like one more than the other, if one feels more real.” She must sense where my mind is going, because she adds, “And if the feelings for both of them are real, well, you only live once. Why not have fun with both?” With that, she twirls and walks away from me, sauntering to her room.
Have fun with both.That suggestion swirls in my head as I enter my bedroom and shut the door. It almost sounds like an illegal thought. Strange as it is, it never really occurred to me to keep going, to see where things end up, with both.
The problem is I don’t know if my heart can handle it. Logan made me feel so… so awful last semester. Reese makes me feel amazing with none of the drawbacks. When I look at it like that, Logan shouldn’t be in the running.
But I can’t just pretend that I don’t still care about the jerk. I do. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I started to fall for him, and I think that’s why I was so devastated last semester when he never reached out again.
The rest of the day goes by in a blur. I’m caught in my own head for most of it, which is why, when it’s time for bed and Iyank my sheets down, I don’t see the folded piece of paper until I’m seconds from crawling on top of the mattress.
I blink. I don’t remember putting anything beneath my sheets. Hmm.
Grabbing it, I go to the small lamp on my desk and turn it on, illuminating the darkness of the room enough so I can see what this folded paper is for. My fingers work on opening it, and I see a short note written in simple handwriting. My heart skips a beat when I read it over, and I have to read it a few times before I realize who it’s from.
The masked man from the party. Has to be. And what does the note say?
Saturday. Midnight. Cemetery.
Just three words, but those three words are enough to make my head spin in a whole new way. I stare down at the note as my heart pounds wildly in my chest, and no matter how many times I read it over, I can’t seem to calm myself down.
Am I excited? Am I nervous? Should I even go? The note was in my bed, beneath my sheets, which means he was here, in our house. That’s kind of creepy, isn’t it? Like, illegal.
