The bell finally rings for the end of school, and I just need a break from the stares and the whispers. When I meet Paul at the end of the day, I ask him to drop me off at the one place in this town where I feel like I can be totally myself: Marcus’s.
A plate of chicken wings and fries is set down in front of me.
I frown as I look over at Marcus, the guy I convinced for all of a month that I was twenty-one so I could drink in his bar and who at one point I thought I might date but has now become my closest friend here. I’m sat in his bar whilst sipping a soft drink—there’s no way he’s serving me alcohol—and he’s just reappeared from the kitchen with the biggest portion of wings I’ve ever seen.
“You need to eat more,” he tells me. “You’re way too skinny.”
I glance up at him, ready to argue, but then stop myself. I am skinnier than I should be right now. I just never seem to remember to eat. Unless Maria, my dad’s housekeeper, has made something and left it out, I don’t bother to cook anything myself. It always seems like too much effort.
I eye the food for a second. “This is random, but there are no nuts in this right? Or near it?”
He looks confused. “No.”
“I have allergies,” I explain.
He nods but doesn’t move. He continues to stare at me. “You okay, Iz?”
“Yeah.” I pause. “No.”
He leans against the counter and crosses his arms in front of me. “I didn’t think so. We’re gonna talk about it, but first you’re gonna eat some of that food.”
I look at the plate and reach for a fry despite not being remotely hungry. Then I have another before I reach for a chicken wing.
After a few minutes of him watching me eat and me trying not to get food all over my face, he finally speaks, only it’s not what I’m expecting. “I think we should register you for your driving test soon. I think you’re ready.”
I grin. I can’t wait to sit this damn driving test and get some independence. It’s definitely what I need. “I think so too,” I tell him.
He tilts his head to the side and appraises me. “Are you going to tell your brother?”
Ha, no. “Why would I?”
He shrugs. “It’s a pretty big deal to take and pass your driving test. Most families like to support that.”
The only thing Ethan would like to support me on right now is getting out of his life. “Yeah, well, I’m not from ‘most’ families.”
He doesn’t say anything else as I continue to dig into the food, instead turning around and starting to assess all the liquor bottles behind him, making an inventory and writing down anything he needs to order. After five minutes or so, he turns around and looks at my mostly full plate. “So, I saw my buddy Darren the other day,” he starts.
I have no idea who Darren is.
“I went over to his parents’ house because he was back from Houston for a couple of days.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, and his little brother was acting like a little bitch.”
Why is he telling me this? “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
A smirk crosses his face. “His little brother is Finn Sullivan.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, he basically ignored me the whole time and then in the end was just plain rude when I was telling Darren what I’ve been up to. Made some stupid comment about me ‘doing minors’.”
I fully scowl now. “Finn Sullivan seems to have a lot of opinions about me, and none of them are any of his business.”
Marcus laughs. “Oh, he seems to think you’re his business all right.”
I shrug and look away. “Finn can go to hell.”
“Awwww, am I sensing some teenage drama?”
“Shut up,” I snap back.
“Seriously though, does he think we’re dating or something?”
“They can think what they want,” I insist. “It’s none of their business.”
“Well I’d prefer it if people didn’t think I was trawling for dates at the high school.”
I can’t help but laugh a little at that. “Shut up.”
He smiles at me and then gestures to the plate of food in front of me again. I reluctantly pick up another chicken wing and take a bite. He watches me until I’ve finished it.
“You wanna tell me what’s going on? You’ve been different the last couple of weeks, even sadder somehow.”
My eyes flit to him and then look away.
“Izzy?”
“What? Nothing’s going on.”
“Come on, Izzy. I know you and your brother aren’t speaking, and I know you’re not yourself.”
“How do you know we’re not speaking?”
He shrugs. “Finn’s got a big mouth.”
Stupid Finn. “What did he say?”
“Just that you guys had a huge blowout because of the way you treat him.”
I eye him for a minute to see if he’s going to mention Craig McGarretty, but he seems to think it’s just a regular fight. “So?” I ask. “Siblings fight all the time. It’s no big deal.” My voice lacks any sort of conviction that I actually believe my words.
He scoffs. “Something tells me this isn’t your typical sibling argument.”
I sigh. He’s absolutely right. My relationship with my twin is the worst it’s ever been, and considering the way it’s been between us for the last few years, that’s saying something. “It was pretty bad.”
“Go on.” My eyes slide to him and I see he’s standing there waiting patiently for me to continue. “Go on, Izzy, you can talk to me. What’s going on between you and Ethan?”
I’m about to tell him to leave me alone and mind his own business, but something stops me. Maybe it’s Ms. Joot’s words from earlier telling me to talk to someone, or maybe it’s just because I want him to tell me it’s not as bad as I think it is. Or maybe I’m just tired of feeling so damn alone.
Either way, I want to tell him.
“I did something.”
He doesn’t say anything, just waits for me to continue.
“I went to this party in Burdown and slept with this guy Ethan hates. Apparently he put him in hospital a couple of years back.”
Finn lets out a low whistle. “Which guy?”
“Craig McGarretty,” I mutter.
“Are you kidding me?” he snaps. “Ethan and Craig despise each other. That bastard jumped him a couple of years ago, and everyone knows the rivalry between Burdown and Northview isn’t to be messed with.”
I didn’t know that, actually, I want to snap back—although that’s not strictly true. Rachel told me. I just chose not to listen to her at the time.
“I know, okay? I know it was bad, but I just wasn’t thinking straight. And now he hates me.”
He lets out a long sigh. “When was this?”
“Two Saturdays ago. The night of the fundraiser.”
“You were in a weird mood that day. You were upset about something, and don’t even try to deny it.”
Talk to somebody. Don’t keep bottling it up.
“It was my mum’s birthday…the first one since she died.”
Understanding crosses his face. “Oh, Izzy, I’m sorry. That must have been so tough.”
I nod. It was tough. The whole day was really, really tough, and I did what I usually do: tried to distract myself and forget about it, and in the end I ended up screwing Ethan over more than I ever wanted to.
I didn’t realise until it was too late that I didn’t want Ethan to give up on me.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
My eyes find his.
“Do you want to talk about your mom?”
I do want to talk about her. I really do.
“She was the best,” I start simply. Because she was. She was the best mother any person could have ever asked for. “She was really young when she had us, and it made me feel like we were friends, you know? I mean, she was definitely my mum and knew when to lay down the law, but I liked her
too. I didn’t just love her because she was my mother—I actually liked her as a person. I enjoyed spending time with her, going out with her.” I let out a long sigh. “She was my best friend.”
“I’m sorry, Izzy.”
I shrug. “Cancer’s a real bitch, you know?”
He nods. “What kind of cancer was it?”
“Breast cancer. She didn’t have any obvious lumps. They didn’t find it until it was too late, and it had already to spread to the lymph nodes under her arms. It was over pretty quickly after that.”
He winces, and I try to focus on his face. I do that so I don’t flash back to her face when she told me how sick she was, to how, as soon as she did, I walked away, because I couldn’t handle what she was saying when what I really should have done was wrap her up in a hug and tell her I loved her again and again.
“I’m so sorry.”
“She was a good person. Not just a good mum, but a good person. She stopped modelling as soon as we were born, and when we were old enough to go to school and we’d moved back to London, she got her degree in social work and started trying to give back.” I smile sadly. “She was in child protection and used to do such long hours, but she always said it was worth it because she couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving on time and then one of her cases not being protected.”
“It sounds like she was a really special lady.”
“Oh she was, and it wasn’t just in her work either. She volunteered at a soup kitchen every Saturday morning for a couple of hours. London’s awesome, but there’s a lot of poverty there too, and she tried to help. I remember a couple of years ago we even volunteered there on Christmas day, serving the food to all the homeless people who wouldn’t have gotten it otherwise. We helped to prepare it too.” I use my right hand to reach down and pinch the skin behind my left elbow so I can concentrate on that instead of on the pain of remembering that day. “Even Ethan was there. It was the best Christmas ever.”
It really was. My mum taught me the importance of giving back and of knowing how lucky we were because we had a roof over our head and food on our table. Most people over here probably wouldn’t expect that from me because of my dad’s money, but I never lived that lifestyle, never saw any of that money when I lived with my mum.
“So your mom was British?” he asks. “That’s why you guys lived there?”
I nod. “Yeah. She’s from Brixton in South London.”
“How did she end up with Greyson Carlington? They sound like opposites.”
“They are,” I immediately agree. “Total opposites.”
“How did they meet?” He genuinely sounds interested.
“Well, when she was sixteen, she was shopping on Oxford Street—it’s this big famous shopping road in London—and she was spotted by a modelling scout, who told her she should be a model.” I pause as I think back to the pictures she showed me of her early modelling days. She was absolutely breathtaking. “She was really beautiful,” I tell Marcus. “Like incredibly beautiful.”
He grins. “Oh, I believe it. I’ve seen her kids.”
I smile. I wish I looked more like her. Sometimes I think I do, but then other times I think I look more like my dad, and I hate that.
“Anyway, she wasn’t really interested in modelling, but she did want to travel, so she got booked on these jobs overseas and did that for a little bit.”
“Yeah?”
I nod. “But not for long. She was in New York when she met my dad and…I dunno, I guess he swept her off her feet.” I sigh as I think back on their relationship. “He’s older than her, and I suppose she just fell in love. They got married and then she got pregnant. She was nineteen when she had us—can you believe that? That’s so young.”
He nods his agreement.
“Anyway, when they met, he promised her the world, told her he was happy to move to London and live over there, said when they were in the States they could stick to New York but it would only be for a couple of weeks at a time. My mum was a city girl, loved the noise and the lights. She never wanted to live in a small town, but shortly after we were born, he moved us all to Kellan.”
He furrows his brows. “I didn’t know that.”
I nod. “For the first two years of my life, I lived here. Mum never really said anything about it, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realised how much she must have hated it. She didn’t have any friends here, and she was isolated and lonely. My dad was never around, always flying off somewhere on business and trying to build his empire. He didn’t care about his wife or us.”
“That sucks.”
I nod. “Yeah, and my grandparents didn’t help. My mum lost her parents when she was young, and I’m sure she hoped my dad’s parents would welcome her, but they didn’t.” A snarl covers my face as I remember the last time I saw my grandmother and what she said about my mother. “My grandmother thinks my mum chased him down and trapped him with us, thinks she was after him for his money, but that’s not true. My mum didn’t care about money. She wouldn’t have done the job she did or lived the life she did in London if she truly cared about that.”
That’s just another example of why I can’t stand my grandparents. They make all these judgements about my mum and they didn’t even know her. They didn’t even try to know her.
“I don’t know why my Dad married her. I think it was just an experiment for him—having a family, seeing if he liked it. He didn’t. He started having affairs and saw all of us as a burden. Even when he tried to placate Mum by moving her to New York, it didn’t work. He was never there, just like he’s never around now. Mum tried to make it work for as long as possible, but when he stopped being discreet about his affairs, she walked away.”
He’s looking at me sympathetically. I guess I’ve painted a grim picture. It’s funny, isn’t it—people think money can buy you happiness, but it’s just not true. No amount of money can make up for the absence of someone’s genuine love of you.
“That’s so shitty, Iz.”
I don’t argue with him. “We were staying at his hotel in New York, and Ethan and I had just gotten home from school. We walked in and found him with another woman.”
His jaw drops.
I smirk. “Yeah, we were too young to really understand what was going on, but we knew it wasn’t right. When we told Mum, she walked away. She told me later that she had to go after that. She couldn’t let me grow up thinking it was okay for a man to treat you like that no matter how much you love them.”
“Your mum sounds incredible.”
I nod. “My dad didn’t give her a penny in the divorce, and she allowed it on the condition that she could take us back to London and all the money that should have been hers would be given to us in a trust fund when we turn eighteen.”
“Wow. So you must be getting that soon, huh?”
I nod. “My birthday’s in July. I just have to stick it out over here until then. Then I’ll be able to financially support myself through university and not have to have anything to do with my dad again. I don’t even care about the money. I just need enough for uni and then I can look after myself.”
He studies me. I think he already knew how much I despised my dad, and what I’ve just told him will only emphasise that. “I feel like your mom would be proud of you, trying to make yourself independent from your dad.”
The word proud makes me want to burst into tears. She always used to tell me she was proud of me, but I know she wouldn’t be right now, not after the way I’ve acted. “I really miss her,” I manage to whisper.
He doesn’t say anything to that. I mean, what can you say?
“I just…I just keep thinking…” My voice cracks slightly, and I clear my throat and blink rapidly, trying to pull myself together. “I just keep thinking how I’m so young and I have my whole life to live and how she’s not going to be there for any of it.” My lip starts trembling and I pinch the inside of my arm so hard I’m sure it’ll bruise. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to
get used to that. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
“I’m so sorry, Izzy.”
A tear slides down my cheek. Yeah. I’m sorry too.
He doesn’t say anything for what feels like the longest time as I try to get my emotions in check. Eventually I feel like I’m not about to fall apart, and I look up at him.
He smiles at me and luckily doesn’t press me any further on it, instead going back to our location growing up. “So what happened after she took you home? Did Ethan stay?”
I shake my head. “We both went back to the UK, and I loved it. It felt like home as soon as we got there, but I guess Ethan didn’t really like it.”
“No?”
“No.” I shake my head as I remember the day he came into my room and told me he was moving back to America to live with Dad, told me he was going to live in Kellan and go to school over there away from me. I remember the blind panic that took over at his words and the total disbelief when I realised he was serious, realised my brother—my twin brother, the person who had been by my side for as long as I could remember—was going to leave me.
“Why did he want to move back?”
I shrug.
“You don’t know?”
I shake my head. “You’d have to ask him.”
“You never asked him?” he asks in disbelief.
I sigh. “Obviously he preferred Dad’s money to the life we had in the UK.”
He frowns like my words don’t ring true to him. He goes to open his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. The last thing I want to think about is the day Ethan told me he was moving away from me. I was so upset I cried myself to sleep for weeks.
“Anyway, he’d come over and visit a couple of times a year and my mum would come over here to visit Ethan, but when I moved here at the end of summer, it was the first time I’d been to Kellan in over ten years, and that time was only to see my grandparents. I don’t remember anyone.”
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