Twisted Circles (Secret Society 2)

Chapter Eight

I left The Manor at dawn, calling an Uber and taking it back to my apartment. I needed some semblance of normalcy before I headed to Stella’s classes today, even if I didn’t know what normalcy was to me right now. I knew Aisha. Or thought I did. I knew Karen. But I still didn’t know what happened to me and I had no clues as to what happened to Stella. As I unlocked my apartment and walked inside, shutting the door behind me, I felt my new Stella phone vibrate in my bag. I took it out and saw a text from Dr. Thompson.

Dr. Thompson: Stella has an appointment with her therapist today at 3 p.m.

Me: Okay?

Dr. Thompson: I need you to go in her place. I’ll send a driver to your apartment at 2:30 p.m.

Me: You want me to pretend I’m her?

Dr. Thompson: Don’t be late. Stella is never late. Getting on a plane now. Talk later.

Wait. He wanted me to pretend I was my twin sister at a session with her therapist? I decided to call him. This wasn’t exactly something I could talk about via text. The call went straight to voicemail. I had to assume that was exactly what he wanted me to do, but I couldn’t. Besides, if he went to the cops about her supposed disappearance, wouldn’t telling her therapist be the next step?

I thought being in my apartment would give me a little peace, but it didn’t feel right. I walked around and looked for things to jog my memory, but the only thing I found was stale bread and dusty countertops. As I walked out of my apartment, dressed in Stella’s clothes that I’d brought along with me to change into, I called Karen. The line rang, and rang, and rang, until the operator told me to leave a message. I hung up without one. The uneasy feeling crept back as I walked toward my car. I looked around as I turned it on, making sure I wasn’t being followed. Once I convinced myself that I wasn’t, I drove the seven minutes to the building I needed to get to. Ellis was impossible to walk in its entirety.

Aisha and I tried it once and made it a quarter of the way before deciding it wasn’t worth it. We ditched the attempt and went to a little bar we knew would serve us alcohol instead. As I got out of the car and locked it, I considered calling Aisha again to remind her that I couldn’t remember what I’d done a few days ago. I remembered the anguish in her voice, the distrust, and shook the thought away. I’d have to get by without her for now.

Opening the door to the classroom, I was grateful to find that it was large enough that I could probably get by without calling too much attention to myself. I beelined toward the back.

“That’s a sight,” a pretty blonde said, smiling straight at me.

“What?”

“You sitting in the back of the class.”

“Oh.” I glanced around quickly. “I’m tired this morning.”

“Do you want me to send you the notes?” She was still smiling.

I considered the sincerity behind the question. The blonde was the kind of pretty and had the kind of smile that made her unattainable and sure to be popular throughout her life. The fact that she was being nice to me was inconceivable, even though I knew it was Stella Thompson she was being nice to, not me.

“I think I got it. Thank you though.” I smiled and continued walking to the back of the room, taking a seat there. The blonde stood and walked over to me, taking a seat beside me.

“I went by your place the other night,” she whispered, leaning in. “I know you said you’re not ready for . . . this, but I wanted to explain myself.”

My heart launched to my throat. Stella was a lesbian? As the blonde leaned in closer still, I felt the weight of an impossible responsibility. As much as I wanted to do right by Stella, I couldn’t pretend to like this girl, like that. Potentially I could trick her brother, her teachers, even her therapist, but not a person she was attracted to.

“I really like you and I had fun with you last week,” she said. “If you want to do casual, I can do casual.”

“I . . . ” I cleared my throat. “Can we talk about this another time?”

“Sure.” Her expression fell. I set my hand on hers before she walked away and she met my eyes, hope flaring in them.

“I have a lot going on and it has nothing to do with you or me or us. Please give me time.”

“Okay.” She squeezed my hand and walked away with a smile.

I let out a long, deep breath.