Page 49 of Twice as Twisted

My life is a study in telling people what they like to hear, and I wasn’t handed that gift. I worked at it, honed my skills, scrutinized not just their words but their tones, their pauses; not just their expressions but every cast of a gaze, tick of a muscle, twitch of the lips. I’m patient too.

Over the years I learned that when people say they want the truth, what they really want is to have their own beliefs confirmed. When they say you can tell them anything, they really mean you can tell them anything neat, anything that won’t complicate their lives, tear apart families, involve the authorities. They want reassurance that they’re doing a good job and can go on with their lives as they have been.

And Baron Dolce is just a person. He might be perfect on the outside, but he’s still a man. Suddenly it feels as if my whole life has been practice for this moment, all my work leading me here, to the realization that I know what he wants to hear, and if I tell him, he’ll like it, and he won’t be able to help but liking me more for it. If I want him, I can give him what he wants, so he wants me too. I don’t have to feel stupid and naïve, even though I haven’t been on dates. I’m not some clueless, helpless damsel.

I know how to drop breadcrumbs like the wicked witch, leading him to my candy house in the dark depths of my haunted woods. I can weave a web that he climbs into willingly because he thinks I’m everything he wants, something I’ve never dared to do. The thought of something so novel, so new I’ve never considered it before, intrigues me.

Maybe I could even break his heart.

Not that I want to, but the knowledge that if he’s breakable, I could be the one to do it, has my pulse racing with a thrill I haven’t felt before. This isn’t just new territory. It’s a newboy, a boy I already know is special. It’s not just the way he looks. It’s his mind, so different from the other boys at our school who only think about football and parties and girls. I’ve never been interested in a boy before, but maybe that’s because I’ve never met one worth my interest. Baron is the first who makes me want to rise to the challenge, whose heart seems worth stealing.

So I shake my head after a minute, and Baron rewards me with a slight shake of his own head, his eyes admiring but intrigued. He can’t quite figure me out, but he wants to.

My chest expands, swelling with something disconcerting and electrifying. For the first time in my life, I’m not just watching and collecting secrets. I’m using what I’ve learned.

“You don’t like your family at all, do you?” Baron asks.

“I already admitted I was a monster.”

“I like it,” he says. “Tell me more.”

“I don’t know if I miss Devlin,” I confess.

“Really?” he asks, looking delighted by my answer.

“Do you miss your sister?”

“Of course,” he says. “Who wouldn’t miss their sister if she drowned?”

“Now you’re making me feel bad,” I scold, but I’m smiling.

“Hey, I wouldn’t miss Devlin either,” Baron says. “No offense, but your family sucks. I wouldn’t miss any of them if they were washed away in the river.”

“It’s not that I wanted him dead,” I explain. “It just doesn’t affect my life much. He lived with my mom; I live with my dad. We didn’t hang out at school. I have like a million cousins. I’m sad he’s gone, but it hasn’t changed my life in any significant way.”

“Damn, Mabel,” he says, pulling onto the highway going north of town. “And people say I’m cold.”

“See?” I say, pointing to my chest. “Monster.”

Despite his words, I can tell he’s impressed. And despite my scheming, I’m flattered—more than flattered. I don’t just want him to fall for me because I think I can make it happen. I don’t want to break his heart. I want to weave it into my web, wrap it in a thousand threads of silk, and keep it forever.

I’m not doing this to win because that means he loses. I don’t want him to lose. I don’t want him to hurt. I want him to love me.

“So, where are we going on this date?” I ask.

He glances at me, and I can tell he’s weighing whether to tell me. But we pull off on an exit, and my heart lurches in my chest. “The quarry,” he says, before I can guess.

“Isn’t—isn’t it a little early to swim?” I croak out.

“We’re not going to swim,” he says, giving me a knowing smile. “And don’t look so freaked out, I know you don’t like to be touched. We’ll work on that. Tonight we can just sit on the edge and talk.”

I open my mouth to tell him I can’t do that either. I’m deathly afraid of heights, and I might faint and pitch headfirst down the bluff they’ve blasted and dug out to get rocks, leaving a pit that might as well be hell. But I slam my jaw shut before I can scare him off.

I don’t want to give him another reason to turn around and say forget it. If he didn’t want to come here, he would have chosen somewhere else. And if I want him to like me, to fall for me the way I’m falling for him, I can’t ruin our first date. I’ve already spilled the more insurmountable obstacle, the one that would send most guys running. I’m lucky he’s still here. If I had thought about it sooner, realized that maybe I had a chance, that I could make it work, I’d never have shared that with Duke.

Baron would have found out on his own soon enough, but he doesn’t have to find out about this. He’s giving me a chance despite my hang-ups, as he called them. I can do this for him.

He pulls up at the quarry, a place I’ve overheard girls talking about for years. The Darling boys and everyone else comes here to party during football season. There are two huge fire rings set up on either end of the lookout, the remnants of bonfires past. In the summer, families go to the swimming hole down a path off to the right, which is what I came for the only time I’ve been up here.

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