by Gemma Weir
“You proposed to me in front of half of the school and made it seem like we’ve been together for years. All you did is fuck me over,” I say, my voice stronger as I realize the extent of what he just admitted.
“No.” Arlo hisses. “What I did was make sure that people know I’m not with Carrigan. I can’t marry her if I’m engaged to you,” he says smugly.
The curly-haired boy laughs again, slinging his arm across Arlo’s shoulders. “Time to pay the piper, Tallulah,” he says enunciating my name.
“What?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“Time to explain why no one knows you,” he says, tilting his head to the side.
“Oh.” Some of the tension falls from my shoulders and I feel myself relax a little. “Nothing to explain really. I come to school every day, I go to class and then I go home. It’s not my fault that people assume I’m my sister. The teachers all know I’m here. If anyone had taken the time they would have realized I wasn’t Carrigan, but they haven’t.”
“And that’s it?” Arlo asks.
“That’s it,” I say nonchalantly. I’m not stupid. I’m not about to admit that I pretend to be my sister to take her classes, or that without me she would have broken the terms of the will already and lost the inheritance both she and my parents covet above everything else.
“So why does your driver drop off your sister, then wait until the very last minute to bring you back and drop you off? Why does he pick up Carrigan, then come back half an hour later and get you?” Arlo demands.
“I’m antisocial,” I say simply.
“I don’t believe you.” The blond guy says, slapping Arlo on the chest. “How ‘bout you, bro?”
“Nope, smells like bullshit to me,” Arlo says, never taking his eyes off me.
“Who are you?” I ask the blond guy, turning away from Arlo to focus on him.
“Are you serious?” His brows furrow and he looks at me like he thinks I’m playing with him.
“I’m antisocial,” I say again.
Arlo scoffs lightly “This is Watson Hilborn and this,” he says nodding in the curly-haired boy’s direction. “Is Oliver Montgomery. Carson Windsor is outside the door.”
I nod, unsure what else they want from me. They sealed my fate with their little performance earlier. My sister, my parents, they won’t believe I wasn’t involved in this despite the fact that they know Arlo only figured out who I was two days ago. “Can I go now?” I ask.
All three boys look at me like I’ve lost my mind, but really what did they expect me to say? None of this is real.
“That’s it?” Arlo asks. “You’ve got nothing else to say?”
“What else do you want me to say? Congratulations? Do you expect me to clap, scream, slap you on the back for fucking with my life? This is just a game to you, but I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with the consequences. My sister, my family have been humiliated and all of that is now my problem. I’m the one who is going to have to explain to my parents that you thought it was a funny joke to propose to me in front of half of the school. I’m the one who is going to have to convince them that I wasn’t involved in this charade, that I haven’t been plotting behind their back to ruin the plans my parents have been making with yours.” I say, my voice getting louder and stronger as the indignant anger sets in. “This is all fun and games to you, but I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with my sister’s anger, my parents’ anger and all so you don’t have to be a cog in a political marriage, like I’m sure your dad was and probably decades of Lexingtons before him. So yeah, that’s all I’ve got to say. Now are we done, because my shitty day will only get shittier if I’m late for class?”
All three boys’ eyes are wide, like they hadn’t expected me to call them out on the shit storm they just brought down on me. But what’s the point of pretending that this joke is nothing but a bit of fun? It might be for them, but not for me. The entire school will know I exist by now, and once people realize there are two of us, they’ll notice my absence.
Forcing every single vestige of my bravery to the surface, I step out from behind the couch and cross the room until I’m standing in front of Arlo. “Can I have my key please?” I ask, not quite a demand, but still stern and almost unyielding.
I try not to let the shock show on my face when he drops the key into my outstretched hand. Then I push past him, unlock the door and push it open, ignoring the intrigued look on the boy that’s standing guard just across the hallway. I wait until the boys file out, then I close the door and lock it behind them, sliding the key back into my pocket before I turn and walk away.
“What the fuck?” I whisper beneath my breath as the four of us watch Tallulah fucking Archibald disappear down the corridor.
“That did not go like I thought it would,” Olly says, all traces of amusement gone from his voice.
“What happened?” Carson asks, pushing up off the wall and closing the distance between us.
“Tallulah is nothing like her sister,” Wats says, an emotion that I can’t quite identify in his voice.
“Not gonna lie, my dick’s hard right now,” Olly says, still staring at the empty hallway in front of us.
Reaching over, I slap him round the back of the head. “Tell your dick to fuck off, that’s my fiancée,” I say, a moment before a confused laugh falls from my lips.
“Oh shit,” Carson snickers. “How the fuck did you manage to evade getting engaged to one Archibald and end up engaged to the other?”
“It’s the perfect plan,” I say dismissively. “I can’t marry Carrigan now, not even high society would overlook me being engaged to one twin then changing to the other. I just need to make sure that everyone notices Tallulah and then Carrigan won’t be my problem.”
“But what about Tallulah?” Wats asks.
“What about her?”
“If what she just said is true, you’re kind of fucking her over,” he says, his normally smiling mouth slipping into a slight frown.
“Don’t let the innocent act fool you. She spent the entire night at mine pretending to be Carrigan. She’s an actress, just like her whore of a sister,” I hiss, pushing away from my friends. “Come on, we need to get to class too and start spreading the good news.”
Olly’s laugh echoes dramatically through the ancient hallway and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my lips. Fucking with the Archibald twins is going to be fun.
The morning’s classes drag, but as I walk into French, a frisson of excitement fills me. I share this class with Carrigan and I’ve been looking forward to seeing her. Wats nudges me as he walks in behind me and I know he sees her too. “Hey, sis,” I say loudly, as I reach her desk.
She looks up at me, a scowl etched across her face, morphing her usually polished appearance into an ugly mask, that somehow suits her better than her normal expression. “What?” She snaps. “Are you still playing this game?”
I laugh. “There’s no game, sis, I love Tallulah and we’re engaged. Why aren’t you happy? Our parents have been planning to entwine our families together and now they’re going to get their wish.” My voice is loud enough that I know everyone in our class can hear everything I just said.
Carrigan shakes her head. “How does your dad feel about your engagement?” she asks, poison dripping from every word.
I smile again, not letting her rattle me. “He’s over the moon. He can’t wait to spend more time with my beautiful fiancée. She made such an impression when we all had dinner together on Friday night.”
Carrigan’s face falls and she pales slightly. I smile widely and squeeze her shoulder as I pass her and make my way to my usual seat at the back of the class, just as Madame Febron glides into the room.
“You’re playing with fire,” Wats says to me in flawless German.
“No fire left anymore, I just pissed on it,” I reply in the same language. Most kids at St Augustus speak more than one language, but Wats and I are fluent in both French and German. He als
o speaks some Swedish and a little Spanish thanks to traveling with his parents.
Watson shakes his head and I watch as his amusement fades. “What about Tallulah? You just threw her under the bus. We both know Carrigan isn’t going to let her sister get away with basically stealing her fiancé, even if you never actually agreed to marry her.”
“What’s the worst Carrigan can do?” I say nonchalantly.
When the bell sounds for lunch, I pack my laptop into my bag and follow Wats down the aisle. My cell phone vibrates in my pocket and as I pull it out, I see I have a message from Carson.
Carson – She’s in trigonometry, room 215.
With a grin, I pat Wats on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find my fiancée for lunch,” I laugh.
“Good luck,” he calls to my back as I turn and hurry in the direction of her classroom.
I search the hallway for her, but don’t spot her as I stride toward the doorway to her trig class. Sighing, I peer around the classroom door, expecting it to be empty, but instead spot Tallulah slowly packing her stuff into her backpack, still sat in her seat halfway down the room.
With her attention diverted, I take a moment to watch her. It’s weird to look at her and see Carrigan’s face, but despite their identical appearance, I can already see the differences in the two girls. Carrigan sits up straighter, always wanting to preen, always wanting people to see her. Tallulah is the complete opposite; her hair has fallen forward covering her face and she’s bent over the desk trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.
They’re two sides of the same coin, so similar, yet so different. For a moment I wonder how it’s possible that Tallulah went unnoticed for so long, then she looks up and all thoughts vanish from my head.
Her violet eyes sparkle as she focuses on me and I swear the color seems even brighter today than it has before. I didn’t notice the color of her eyes during dinner on Friday, but then I deliberately didn’t look at her for long enough to notice anything.
“Are you ready?” I ask, stepping into the classroom as the teacher lifts her briefcase from the desk and leaves, not even sparing a glance at us.
“Ready for what?” She asks, as she tucks the hair that was hanging in her face behind her ear.
“Lunch.”
“I’m fine thanks,” she says, politely dismissive.
“What do you mean you’re fine?” I ask, taking a step closer.
She sighs. “You’ve had your fun, Arlo. I don’t want to play this game. It’s not fun for me and I don’t enjoy being the butt of your jokes, so go eat and leave me alone.”
“Do you have lunch with the juniors?” I blurt, suddenly realizing that Carrigan eats in the cafeteria and as I’ve never actually seen both girls in the same room until two days ago, there’s no way Tallulah can eat at the same time as her sister.
“No,” she says, confused by my question.
“Then when do you have lunch?”
“At the same time as you,” she says, furrowing her brow at me.
“But your sister goes to the cafeteria every day, she holds court with the minions and I don’t believe that’s you pretending to be Carrigan, so where do you have your lunch?” For some reason finding out where she eats each day feels really important.
“I bring lunch with me,” she admits quietly.
“So, where do you eat?”
“There’s a study room in the library.”
“You eat alone?” I snap.
“I’m antisocial,” she says quietly, but it’s so obvious it’s a lie.
Tallulah isn’t antisocial, but for some reason she doesn’t want people to know she exists. A thought flitters through my mind, or maybe Carrigan doesn’t want people to know her sister exists. But why? Why would it matter? “Have you eaten alone every day since you were a freshman?” I ask, needing to know, but unsure why the answer’s important.
She shrugs. “Yeah.”
Anger fills me and I don’t understand it, but I know I can’t let her sit on her own and eat a bagged lunch, not for one more day. “Come on,” I snap.
“What?” she cries, as I scoop her backpack from the desk and sling it over my shoulder. “Give that back,” she cries, but I ignore her, reaching for her hand and dragging her along as I stomp out of the classroom.
“Arlo, stop,” she cries, as I march down the hallway, pulling her along behind me.
I don’t stop until I reach my locker, then I release her hand only for long enough to stuff her backpack and my stuff into my locker and then lock the door.
“Hey,” she cries. “I need my stuff.”
“You can have it back after lunch,” I say curtly, taking her hand again and heading toward the lunchroom.
“But my lunch is in my bag.” She pulls her hand away, but I just tighten my grip on her and drag her along with me, holding her a little tighter than I should, but unwilling to let her go.
“Today, my dear fiancée, you’re going to have lunch with me, in the cafeteria.”
“No, I’m not,” she snaps, yanking her hand to try to free herself.
“Yes, you are,” I say smiling widely and pulling her toward me so fast that she stumbles forward, clumsily falling into my chest. Making the most of her position, I release her hand and wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly into my side as I march us through the doors and into the cafeteria.
It feels like the whole room goes silent and all eyes turn to us, but I’m sure it really isn’t as dramatic as it feels. Without thinking, I spin Tallulah in my arms until she’s pressed against my chest, then I dip my face to hers and kiss her.
After what feels like an eternity, but is probably no more than a second, she cautiously kisses me back, and though I’d never admit it to anyone, I like it. She feels good in my arms and it’s not just because she’s a beautiful girl with a hot body. Tallulah feels good pressed against me, her lips moving gently against mine, her tits flush with my chest. There’s something about this invisible girl and I have no idea if it’s just because she’s the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to her family, or if it’s something more, but whatever it is, I’m enjoying it.
When I pull back, I chuck her under the chin playfully, lifting her lips up so I can peck a soft kiss against them, before I turn and smile at the faces that are still watching our little display. “She said yes,” I cry dramatically, scooping Tallulah off the floor and into my arms, before striding across the room to my usual table.
There’s a smattering of applause, mixed in with a little laughter, but I ignore everyone as I lower her into a chair next to Watson, then grab a chair from the table behind mine and place it next to hers, laying my hand on her thigh to stop her from bolting.
“Why are you doing this?” She asks, barely above a whisper, as her eyes frantically move around the lunchroom until they fall on Carrigan.
“Because for some reason your twin sister has let you eat lunch alone for three-and-a-half years. I don’t know why, but she didn’t want people to know you existed, so the fact that I just brought you in here and made a scene has probably really pissed her off,” I whisper back.
Tallulah nods slowly. “So all of this is just about my sister?” she asks quietly. “Of course it is.”
“What?” I ask, desperate to know what she’s thinking that made the violet in her eyes dull to matt purple instead of the vibrant pop of color it was earlier.
“If I’m here, I might as well enjoy the food. What’s good?” she asks, completely disconnected and acting for the first time since she told me her name, just like her sister.
Olly hands her a menu and she spends a long silent moment perusing the choices, as we all sit and watch her. When she lowers the menu and finds us all still staring, she blinks slowly, dropping it to the table in front of her.
“What did you want to eat, Tallulah?” Olly asks her and I turn to glare at him.
“How do we order? I can do
it myself,” she immediately replies.
“It’s at the counter, but I can do it for both of us,” he offers, ignoring my pointed glare.
“Oh, well then I’d like the blackened salmon please,” she replies. “And a lemonade if they have it.”
Olly nods, and immediately gets up to go and order their food. What the hell? Olly isn’t the guy who orders food for a girl. He normally sends whoever he’s fucking that day to go order for him. He’s a douche. I mean he’s my friend, I love the guy, but he’s a joker, always laughing around and playing pranks.
Incredulous, I turn my attention back to Tallulah, but she’s not looking at me anymore. Her eyes are scanning the room, taking in the people who are all watching us, some taking discreet glances and others outright staring.
When her sister stands from her chair and moves toward us, Tallulah tenses, slouching in her chair as if she can make herself invisible somehow.
“Tallulah, I sent you a text, but you haven’t replied. Come with me, I need to speak with you,” Carrigan says, her voice coldly polite, with an edge of anger so sharp Tallulah actually cringes.
Acting without thought, I reach for Tallulah and scoop her out of her seat and into my lap. “Carrie, why do you keep trying to steal my fiancée away?”
Carrigan’s eyes narrow into nothing more than slits and she leans forward, bracing her hand on the table. “Do you think this is funny? This little performance is pathetic, and honestly, I thought this type of behavior was beneath you. You’re embarrassing me, my parents, and you’re embarrassing your own family too. For God’s sake, Arlo, how is this going to look when we announce our engagement? Even though it’s obvious this all just a bit of fun, people still look to us to set an example for how to behave appropriately,” she hisses, never once even looking at Tallulah.