Page 77 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

"Are you kidding? This is the most exciting thing to happen all semester." She hugs me tightly. "There’s much more passion and sparks than there was with Cade."

After she leaves, I clean up the remaining dinner mess, straighten my rumpled bedspread, and gather the books that were casualties of my moment with Sanderson. My body still feels charged, hyperaware, like every nerve ending is just below the surface of my skin.

I change into pajamas, removing the inside-out shirt with an embarrassed laugh, and settle on my bed with my phone. I should study, should get back to my Bio Ethics notes, but all I can think about is Sanderson—his hands, his mouth, the look in his eyes when I kissed him.

On impulse, I call my mom. She answers on the third ring, the familiar sounds of her evening routine in the background—the news playing softly, the clinking of a spoon against her nightly teacup.

"Hannah Banana! What a nice surprise. What are you doing?"

Just hearing her voice centers me, grounds me in a way nothing else can. "I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Well, I'm always happy to hear yours. How are finals going? Are you still living in the library?"

"Actually, I've been studying in my room lately," I say, smiling at her instinctive understanding of my habits. "And they're going well. Almost done with Bio Ethics."

"That's my girl. Always ahead of schedule." The pride in her voice warms me. "And how are things otherwise? Any drama I should know about?"

I laugh, the sound slightly hysterical even to my own ears. Drama? Just a little. Accidentally sleeping with one brother, dating the other, witnessing their public fistfight, and now making out with the wrong brother again. Just a typical day in the life of Hannah.

"Nothing worth mentioning," I lie, then immediately feel guilty. "Actually, there is something."

"I'm listening," she says, her tone shifting to that perfect blend of interested and non-judgmental that she's perfected over the years.

"I'm sort of…seeing someone," I begin cautiously.

"Oh! That's wonderful, honey." She sounds genuinely pleased. "Is it that young man you were dating before? The quiet one who's studying business?"

"No, not Cade," I say, the name feeling strange on my tongue. "It's…someone else. It's new. We're taking it slow."

That last part is technically true, or at least it was until about an hour ago. I decide not to mention that part.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. You deserve someone special." She pauses, and I know she's debating whether to push for more details. "Is he good to you?"

The question brings tears to my eyes. It's so simple, so fundamental, and yet it cuts straight to the heart of everything.

"Yeah," I say softly. "He is. He makes me laugh. He listens—really listens—when I talk. He planned this amazing date at an animal sanctuary because I once mentioned wanting to be a vet."

"That’s so thoughtful," Mom says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

"He is. It's just…complicated."

"Life usually is, sweetheart." She sighs, and I hear the creak of her settling into her favorite armchair. "But sometimes the complicated things are the ones most worth pursuing."

"That's what I'm starting to think too."

We talk for a while longer, about her garden, about my upcoming exams, about nothing and everything. By the time we hang up, I feel more settled, more certain. My mom has always had that effect on me—helping me find my center without even trying.

Just as I'm about to return to studying, my phone buzzes with a series of rapid notifications from the group chat.

Greta:HANNAH PORTER. Why am I hearing from Tiff in my poli-sci class that you are banging Sanderson Connolly???

Finley:WHAT?? The hockey player? Cade's brother?? Hannah explain yourself immediately!

Lennox:Oh crap, I was hoping to tell her in person...

Greta:You KNEW about this, Lennox??

Lennox:In my defense, I can’t say more lmao.

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