by M.S Watson
Chapter Four
‘Remember no one can make you feel inferior without your consent.’
Eleanor Roosevelt
I woke up on Friday morning feeling great.
It was our birthday, finally, and what made it especially great was the fact that my father allowed me a reprieve from his interrogations by midnight - much earlier than I had expected. I hadn’t slept much though, which effectively placed a downer on my morning, but I managed to eat breakfast around the table with my family.
I sat across the table from my sister, our parents seated at either end. The wooden surface was laden with multitudes of food and I found myself feeling ravenous after having skipped dinner last night - a smart move considering my mother seemed to be cooking for a giant. There were fresh mulberries and apples, pancakes and maple syrup and caramel cookies. To our mother’s end sat platters of waffles and whipped cream, toast and cheese toasties, while pop-tarts, French toast and cinnamon sugar, yogurt and bagels sat at our father’s end.
I loaded my plate as opposed to Lainie, who simply settled for her own strawberry-flavoured slim shake. She sipped at it tentatively as our parents followed my lead and threw down as much as they could. Lainie was beaming, checking her Facebook every few moments to ensure that she was gaining more birthday wishes. She was obviously pleased with her new phone. I rolled my eyes and groaned in pleasure as I fought to eat more without becoming bloated. I smiled at our mother but it quickly faded when I saw her expression.
She picked at her food with the tip of her fork, not even interested in what lay before her. I glanced up at my father, noting his own sombre mood and I dropped my fork with a clatter, my arms crossed. Even Lainie looked up from her gadget to observe my weird reaction. I looked at our parents, noting the ways in which they dropped their heads and how our mother bit her lip. They were hiding something and it was big.
‘What?’ I asked. ‘What is wrong? And don’t say nothing, because I know that you’ll be lying!’
Our father was the first to snap, surprising me. Usually is was our mother, but that only highlighted the severity of the situation. My stomach churned and I instantly realised that I shouldn’t have consumed so much beforehand. I tried to focus on their obvious guilt rather than the sickening feeling inside me. I felt my jaw clench as I looked between them, and they finally broke the silence.
‘Darling, we love you,’ our mother began.
‘But you need to understand,’ our father continued.
Our mother followed on. ‘We haven’t told you because we didn’t know how,’ she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘We’ve come to the conclusion that it’s time you knew.’
I looked at our father, then back at our mother. Even Lainie looked back and forth, the phone and corresponding Facebook messages of congratulations long forgotten. For once, something rated more important than my sister’s popularity and Ryker’s relationship status.
‘What are you talking about?’ I whispered though the churning in my gut told me all that I needed to know. Lainie’s mouth dropped open, the food and slim shake forgotten. She dropped her hand to the table, the phone clattering along the surface. It was too loud in the silence; a pin could have dropped and sounded like a bomb had detonated over an entire city. ‘No … NO!’
I jumped up from the table in unison with Lainie and she slammed a fist against the surface, leaving it trembling. ‘You’re trying to tell us we’re adopted!’ She didn’t question it - she knew. I knew, too. It was so obvious. No birth certificates, records of our earliest weeks. No baby photos or post-birth records. No hospitals mentioned, and nothing mentioned by our relatives.
Nothing.
Tears streamed down our mother’s - Nevada’s - face and she reached into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of yellowing paper. She unfolded it but I didn’t need to look at it to know that it was the adoption paper in all its glory. Instead, I turned and fled a difficult situation for the first time in my entire life.
I didn’t realise where I was going until I stopped driving and pulled into a space near the entrance to Atlantic Beach, shoving the engine off before settling my head against the steering wheel. I drummed my fingertips against the top, sliding them down before slamming them against the dashboard. Thin trickles of tears slid their way down, leaving me shaking from shock and incredible sadness that gripped tight around my soul. Its icy fingers curled around me, constricting me into something hard and emotionless. I set my lips into a thin line and wiped the tears away, bracing myself before slipping out of the driver’s seat and locking the vehicle.
I made my way down onto the sand, finding dead fish along the edge of the water where they’d been washed up overnight. The stench was unforgiving, but it did help to clear my head enough to realise I was about to walk straight into the ocean, car keys and all. I took a few stuttered steps back and tripped, falling flat on my behind. Thankfully the stench was enough to keep others away as I grieved, alone and falling to pieces inside.
All my life, the memories …
Everything: lies.
All those birthdays, the Christmases and hugs from cherished grandparents. The stories before bed and the memories they would recall with tears in their eyes. Tears of happiness … But just as many that were caused by happiness, I realised that there were just as many caused by guilt and lies. And they were far from white lies, too. Dark, ugly clouds swamped their minds for the past eighteen years. The only person I could count on was my sister. She was undoubtedly my own blood - we were identical twins!
I shook my head, feeling the intense fury seize my body and I clenched my jaw and fists against it. How could they? How could they smile and act happy every day, knowing that their very existence as our parents was a lie our entire lives? Why didn’t they tell us the truth?
Clarity wasn’t working for me right now, I knew, so I turned to my phone clenched in my fist as a means of distracting myself from what had just occurred. I found wall posts on my Facebook, dedicated to me stating that these people were all excited on my behalf. I wondered how they would react knowing that today may very well have just been another day for all that I knew. I didn’t know how old I was, or where I came from. Who were my parents? Who?
Who am I?
I glanced down at my phone again, irritated to find that for every wall post wishing me well on my birthday, there were approximately ten for Isabella wishing her well on her burns. She’d been in Beaufort for little over 48 hours and already she had a following. I wasn’t the popular type, preferring the shadows over the stifling life of a popular girl, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t get jealous. I rolled my eyes and screamed in rage, feeling oddly similar to how Lainie must have felt just 24 hours ago, waking to find the man of her dreams in a relationship with the newbie.
Was I really that insignificant?
In a sudden burst of rage, I rose to my feet and threw my phone down the beach, watching as it landed with a thud in the soft sand beside a rotting fish. The sunlight reflected off the phone’s screen, and I instantly regretted it. I didn’t have the kind of money to replace it. I looked at my wrist, the watch there telling me that I was well late for school. I shrugged. What the hell. Why not skip school?
I made my way down the beach and snatched up my phone, swiping the screen with my thumb to brush away the sand granules. It was dirty but was otherwise untouched, the phone’s screen responding as I played around to ensure the screen hadn’t broken during my fit of rage. I sighed, shoving it in my pocket as I gazed out at the waves. I shut my eyes, listening to the roar of the waves as they crashed over one another and retreated back for another whopping blow. My feet tingled to the point of pain, my toes burying themselves into the wet sand by the water’s edge.
I was almost completely relaxed when I heard a splash nearby.
It was to my right and I quickly opened my eyes, tensing to see someone emerge and say, ‘Scared you!’ But there wasn’t anyone there, just a purplish tinge to the wav
es as something long and graceful flitted through the waves and out to see. I was caught in place, both by fear and awe, before I finally got past the shock and retreated up the width of the beach. I shook my head, rubbing my eyes. Perhaps I needed glasses - I didn’t know my family, so it was very possible they had had eyesight problems. But the sound of the water splashing …
Back at the car, I sat in the driver’s seat again and settled my forehead back against the steering wheel. I stroked its leather cover with my fingertips, taking in the soft texture. Soothingly, the sound of the ocean rang through the car, like placing a seashell to one’s ear to hear its crashing. A moment later, though, the soothing quality was marred by the sound of Starden’s car revving into place behind my car. I reluctantly resumed an upright position before Lainie got in beside me, looking over with her own lips pursed.
She’d changed into something more … her since breakfast. Her legs were laden in a pair of white denim shorts, with cream coloured high-heels and a coffee sleeveless, the chest high enough to leave imagination rather than dollar bills and adorned with silver chain-links. Her nails were white, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her makeup was subtle, and I had to admit that she looked amazing in that combination. It suggested innocence, something she herself didn’t emanate so it was best for her clothes to do so.
‘So,’ she began awkwardly. She bit her lip. ‘This whole adopted scenario, it’s real, right?’
I glanced over at her, offering a small nod. ‘It’s as real as we are identical.’ She laughed.
‘Well, identical in looks,’ she clarified. ‘Not in personality. Christ, I’d love it if you were more like me.’
I snorted and smiled slightly. ‘Yeah. Sometimes I say the same thing about you.’
We laughed and continued chatting like that for a while, something I missed. High school had made us as far apart as Earth to the edge of the universe. It wasn’t fun. I missed talking to her so happily, so carefree. Eventually we had to stop, given the insistent honking of Starden’s car behind us. I rolled my eyes and she laughed.
‘Look,’ she addressed me. ‘Don’t think about it. Today is about us, regardless of whether we were actually born today or not. It’s our day. Let’s keep it that way, shall we?’
I pursed my lips and thought for a moment. Finally, I nodded. ‘Okay,’ I answered, offering her a small smile. ‘It’s our day. No one else’s.’
She grinned. ‘Listen, I’ve got this big night planned for us and practically everyone from our school is invited. Even the loser librarians.’ She rolled her eyes. She knew I didn’t like people being left out due to their social status or intelligence level. ‘Dive into your closet and get something hot. We’ve got a whole night of partying and drunkenness to get under way, starting at sun down. Ignore Chris and Nevada. They’ll keep out of the way anyway.’
I managed a nod before Starden got out and stalked toward our car. He tapped on the window angrily but all anger died away as his eyes fell on my sister. Instead, a starstruck expression fell over him and he grinned as Lainie planted a kiss square on his lips. He looked across to me giddily and offered a half-assed wave.
‘Hey, uh, Iris …’ he said. ‘Uh … happy … You know. Happy birthday.’
I looked at my sister and found her offering me a wink before she said, ‘See you tonight Sis.’
She exited the car and followed after Starden, giggling and doing God only knows what else. A moment later, tires shredded the tar and the car veered around towards the direction of the bridge. I certainly didn’t want to know what they had planned as a birthday celebration, but considering the bombshell we’d received this morning, I didn’t need an imagination to guess what.
Shuddering, I shoved the car into gear and followed suit, crossing the bridge back to the mainland and I made my way to the Beaufort docks. I parked on the street, leaving the comfort of my car to enter the new modern water café that was positioned by the edge where the docks met dry land. A large sign above the entrance read ‘Macy’s’ in large, bold aqua lettering. It was a boat, refurbished and given an open-plan space in order to convey a modern hospitality establishment, and was coloured accordingly to attract local teenagers. Despite being school hours, I spotted nine people I recognised from school who were notorious for being no-shows.
They were seated around a white table with vibrant green and hot pink plastic stools, sipping from glasses shaped like flowers that matched the colours of their seats. The walls where there weren’t glass doors leading to the outside deck were white with wooden-framed photos of artistic ocean photography and dolphin spotting. A series of small, modern cream lights were embedded in the ceiling, casting a warm light over the wrap-around white bar that served the boat the entire way around.
A series of fridges, glasses, alcoholic and non-alcoholic facilities were in the centre of the bar, serving as a thick white pillar that held the ceiling up. The owner of the watery establishment spotted me and smiled, making her way over to me from where she’d been cleaning the espresso machine. She placed down the cloth and clasped her hands together, leaning onto the bar. She grinned, her name badge shining silver as it sported her name: Macy Devereux. Despite the origins of her name, she delved into her Scottish heritage a lot.
‘Well, well. Isn’t it the birthday girl herself, aye!’ she exclaimed, her voice loud enough to gauge the interest of her young high schooler patrons. They cast curious glances over their shoulders as she leaned over the bar to give me an awkward hug and patted me on the back. I rolled my eyes at her.
‘Hey Macy,’ I returned, offering her the truest smile I could muster. ‘How’s things?’
‘Slow,’ she said, frowning to herself slightly before beaming back at me again. ‘Better though now that you’re here! What can I get for you, young lass? Take your pick. It’s on the house!’
I thought for a moment, but it didn’t take long. I grinned at her. ‘How about a hokey-pokey deluxe thick shake with extra caramel sauce?’ She winked at me and nodded elaborately, her red-blonde hair falling into aged brown eyes. Her wrinkled brown skin stretched as she reached below the bar for the milkshake machine and its corresponding steel mug. As she pulled off the lid to the milk bottle and poured it in, she looked up at me curiously.
‘Skipping school, young lass?’ she queried, her eyebrows raised. I nodded with a sigh and rested my chin on my palm, using my elbow to prop myself against the bar top.
‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘Tough day. I’d rather forget about it.’ She nodded, though she appeared to be worried by my reluctance.
‘Boy trouble?’ she asked with a wink, her laughter ringing. I shook my head and simply joined in her laughter. She finally finished with my thick shake and placed it in front of me, the majority in a glass like the floral ones by the other table and rimmed with caramel sauce. The remaining liquid was still in the steel cup she provided me with, giving me the option for a top-up when I was ready. I smiled and sipped through my straw, surprised to find it so thick that I could barely get a trickle of milk through the tiny space. She laughed at my reaction when I pulled away, gasping.
‘Wow, that is thick!’ I commented, watching as she slid a spoon across the bench to me and started to pull dishes and cutlery out of the dishwasher. She wiped them as she laughed.
‘Well, lass, it’s meant to be thick,’ she pointed out. ‘If it fits through a straw, it’s not a thick shake.’ I nodded and delved into the iciness with my spoon, scooping it into my mouth only to be met with an explosion of devilishly sweet thickness. It trickled down my tongue and melted, following the trail down my throat and through my body. It was tantalising.
‘Thank you Macy,’ I told her, scoffing down another thick spoonful. ‘This is exactly what I needed.’
She laughed. ‘Any time.’