by Emma Doherty
She grins. “Your name’s Isabella, right?”
I grimace. “Izzy. Everyone calls me Izzy.”
“And you’re from England?”
“Yeah, from London.”
Her whole face lights up. “That’s so cool. I’ve always wanted to go to London, and I love your accent.”
Her enthusiasm is sweet and genuine, and I feel a tiny amount of tension leave my body.
“It must suck having to move here,” she says. I don’t disagree. “How come you had to move?”
That’s when I relax, because whilst the school office might know exactly who my dad and brother are, this girl clearly doesn’t have a clue, and that’s just the way I like it.
True to her word, Pippa gives me the full extensive tour of Northview High School. She walks me up and down the hallways, pointing out the different rooms and explaining how school here in America works. I listen silently as she explains that every day you have the same lessons at the same time, so I don’t just have maths after lunch on Fridays, I have it after lunch every day, and I pretend not to be flabbergasted at just how different it is to the UK. She shows me where my locker is and explains how I open it using the combination she provides. She tells me when’s best to grab books so as to avoid the crowds, and she points out the science labs and the back staircases I can use as a shortcut to the next building. She shows me the huge cafeteria, which is five times the size of the one in my school in the UK, and explains that the students have split schedules so all seniors eat at the same time as well as half the sophomores and half the juniors, and then the rest of the school eat at a separate time because the cafeteria can’t fit all the students at once. Then she explains what a junior and a sophomore is because I don’t know that either. She takes a look at my schedule and tells me which teachers I have that are good and what to look out for with the ones she scrunches up her nose at.
We roam the corridors, her providing little tidbits of information she thinks I might find useful, and she takes the whole thing very seriously, making sure I’m as informed as possible. We see the odd student loitering in the halls, and I can’t help but glance through the windows as we pass the classrooms. There are students everywhere, and any pretence that the nerves threatening to take over my body are being kept at bay is completely gone. I’m nervous—very, very nervous. This is not what I was expecting. This is so much bigger than I imagined was possible.
“How many students go here?” I ask when she finally stops at the end of what she tells me is the main hallway.
She thinks for a second. “I think just under two thousand five hundred.”
I physically balk. That’s insane.
She notices my reaction. “It’s pretty huge, right? But it does mean you can kind of fly under the radar unless you’re one of the social elite.”
“Social elite?”
She grins. “Yup. Every single US teen movie you’ve ever seen is true when it comes to this place. The jocks rule the school and head up the social hierarchy here, and everyone always knows what’s going down with them.”
“What’s a jock?”
She blinks at me. “You know, sports people. Athletes.”
“Oh right.” Does that mean Ethan then?
“This school is really big for sports, all sports, but it’s the football team that runs this place—and the cheerleaders. You’ll find out soon enough.”
So yes, Ethan. That doesn’t surprise me. He’s always been popular, always been surrounded by friends. I nod and take a deep breath. I guess it’s time to go face it then. “So do you know where I’m supposed to be now?”
She looks surprised. “We’re not finished yet! I haven’t even showed you around outside. The school grounds are even bigger outside to accommodate all the students.” She glances down at her watch. “Just wait here for a moment. I have to go grab a book for my next class from my locker.”
I lean against the wall as she disappears down the hallway, and I keep my eyes on her as she opens her locker and starts rummaging around in it. She’s pretty sweet, actually, and very earnest. Just as she’s shoving an extra book into her bag, two girls appear from a side room and start walking towards her, one with bright blonde hair and another with deep auburn hair. Even from here I can see that they’re pretty—very pretty. They’re dressed in cheerleader uniforms and have an air of confidence I can pick up even from all the way down the corridor.
That’s not what I notice the most, though. What I notice is the way Pippa seems to shrink as they approach her, and she seems smaller after they’ve passed. They start laughing, looking over their shoulders at her, and I just know they’ve said something bitchy. I straighten up as they get closer, but they swerve off down another corridor before they see me.
Pippa offers a weak smile as she makes her way over to me. “Ready?”
“What did those girls say to you?”
She shakes her head, not meeting my eyes. She’s embarrassed. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Pippa?”
“It’s nothing.”
I hate bullying, hate it, and I’d put money on the fact that those girls just bullied Pippa and probably not for the first time.
“Look, it’s just the way it works around here. That social hierarchy thing I was telling you about? They’re at the top of it. Those girls get to do whatever they want.”
My jaw tenses. “You can’t let people walk all over you.”
She sighs. “I, along with everyone else, have been dealing with them in one way or another since we were in kindergarten. I have less than a year left and then I don’t have to be around them anymore. Honestly, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine if they make you feel like crap.”
“My one piece of advice for you would be to stay off their radar.”
I raise an eyebrow. If I’m completely honest, I’m not planning on being here all that much and I’ll happily fly under everyone’s radar, but not because I’m scared of them.
“Although…” She waves her hand in my direction, up and down my body.
“Although what?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. Now, are you ready to head outside?”
I stare at her for a minute. I guess the US isn’t so different to the UK after all. Every school has mean girls. The only difference for me was that I had a best friend who showed me how to deal with them, so I didn’t ever feel nervous when I saw someone approaching. I really wish Pippa had had the same.
Pippa makes an exit out of one of the side doors, and the relief I feel is immediate. The fresh air and space away from the lockers and classrooms give me a minute to compose myself so I don’t feel quite so bad about being here. The parking lot is in the distance, and I’m just working out if I can realistically slope off and avoid dealing with all of this today when Pippa clears her throat next to me. I glance over, and she launches into her speech about the outdoor area. She’s so confident in what she’s saying and so prepared that I have to think this isn’t her first time giving one of these tours.
She shows me where the outdoor changing rooms are before taking me on a tour of the tennis courts, the hockey pitches, the athletic track, and the indoor gym, and I’m honestly blown away. My school in London was a private school where people had to pay to attend, but our facilities didn’t come close to this. What Pippa said about Northview High School being one of the biggest sports schools in the state suddenly makes sense to me. The facilities here are insane.
Just when I think the tour is over and there can’t possibly be anything else for me to see, she starts walking farther and farther away from the school. She has a bright smile on her face like she’s excited, but I start glancing back at the main building, wondering just how far away we’re going and trying to keep up with her. She’s surprisingly fast for someone so short.
I’m just about to ask her where we’re headed when she cuts down a path through a wooded area and into sight comes a stadium—a massive stadium.
And Ethan’s face is plastered all over it.
My stomach twists.
Pippa turns back to me, smiling brightly. “And this is the best part of the whole school: Carlington Stadium.”
The name repeats in my head as I stare up at it, this huge structure, brand shining new with my brother’s face and my dad’s name all over it.
I want to throw up. No wonder the principal is doing exactly what my dad says.
Pippa either doesn’t notice the look on my face or doesn’t care. She’s grinning brightly at me, like I should be impressed. “Awesome, right? Come on, all new students get to see the stadium on their tour, to get you in the team spirit.”
I’m shaking my head and backing away before she even knows it.
She frowns, looking confused. “Come on, Izzy. You have to see.”
I bite the inside of my mouth and follow her as we walk through some turnstiles. She waves a hand at one of the maintenance guys who is repainting some marks on the steps, and I allow my gaze to sweep around. It’s not quite as huge as I was expecting. For some reason I was thinking it would be the size of the sporting stadiums back home that seat 70,000 people, and of course it’s not like that…but then I remember that this is just a high school football stadium for teenagers, not professionals, and it easily seats a few thousand. That’s unbelievable to me. It’s unbelievable that so many people would turn up to see a school team.
The field is covered in bright green grass that has sprinklers going off to keep it perfectly watered, and there are posts at either end of the field that I assume have something to do with the game. Then on either side there are two stands that run God knows how high and the entire length of the whole pitch—all for a high school game. It seems completely, overwhelmingly unnecessary.
Pippa looks back at me, smiling widely, looking for all the world like I should be impressed beyond belief that my new school has a football team that warrants this stadium. She jerks her head in the direction of the stands, climbs up the steps, and flops herself down in one of the plastic chairs. She smiles back at me, waiting for me to follow her, and after a minute, I do.
I look over the whole stadium, the entire massive structure, the maintenance men trimming the grass in the corner and the guys in polo shirts fiddling with athletic equipment. There’s a whole team of people here working on the stadium, and there isn’t even a match or a practice going on.
She turns to me. “Pretty awesome, huh?”
I don’t have anything to say to that. I don’t have anything to say as I take in this entire structure that has my twin’s face plastered all over it and bears my father’s name. I didn’t know about any of it. I’m not surprised neither Ethan nor my dad said anything—we haven’t had a normal conversation in years—but my mum used to come out here twice a year to see Ethan. She definitely would have known about it, and she didn’t say anything. I’ve got to admit that burns slightly.
Pippa is still waiting for me, waiting for my reaction, and then she smacks her hand to her head. “Duh, I’m sorry. They probably don’t have football in the UK, do they?”
They do, only it’s a completely different game where you kick a ball around a field and try to score goals. It’s called soccer over here, and whilst I think American football has started showing up a little bit more on TV back home, it’s really not something that is known about in the UK. If it weren’t for Ethan, I wouldn’t have a clue about it.
She starts explaining the rules to me, like I actually give a damn, and tells me this is a massive football school and the whole town and the surrounding areas shows up every Friday to support the team. Apparently it’s the biggest event of the week. She acts like it’s a given that everyone will be there to see it and I’m barely listening, instead staring across the stadium as she shyly offers to meet me tonight so I can attend with her and her friends.
“Izzy?”
My eyes snap away from the huge banner of Ethan’s face that I can’t seem to stop looking at. It’s the same one I saw on my first night here, only it’s even bigger, so big I can see it clearly from over here, and it makes me just as angry and sad and hurt now as it did on Sunday night.
Pippa’s eyes follow mine and she gives me a knowing smile.
“That’s Ethan Carlington,” she tells me. “He’s like the hottest person in the world, right?”
I just about manage to contain my laughter, and when my gaze finds hers, I see her eyes fixed on the banner and a dreamy look on her face.
“He’s the quarterback and the captain of the team.” She glances over at me, and her voice takes on an awe-like quality. “He’s actually a really nice guy, too. Some of those guys are really arrogant, but Ethan’s not. He’s different.”
I can’t help it—I snort, and she immediately blushes bright red. She shifts around nervously in her seat, and I feel bad. “Sorry,” I tell her. “Yeah, he’s good-looking.”
She offers me a small smile, but I can tell she’s not totally comfortable anymore.
I clear my throat. “This stadium is called Carlington too?” I ask, hoping to smooth things over.
She jumps on the excuse to change the subject. “Yes. Ethan’s dad donated the money when we were in middle school, and the school built this in time for our freshman year. I don’t know the actual number, but the rumour is that it cost millions.”
I balk at the mention of so much money, but looking around the stadium, it’s not hard to believe it cost that much—and there was my mum in London working a gruelling job in social work and having to watch every penny she spent. I manage to straighten my face and turn back to Pippa, who is watching me curiously. “That seems like a lot.”
She nods. “Oh yeah, but his dad is loaded, like Forbes rich list loaded.”
I raise an eyebrow. He’s not on a rich list. There’s no way he wouldn’t have bragged about it over one of our forced dinners if he were on that list—or maybe he just doesn’t consider me important enough to brag to.
“His dad is like this big international businessman, but he was born here and went to school here so he keeps his family home here.”
That’s the image he wants to portray. As long as everyone thinks he’s down to earth and in touch with his roots, who cares if he never sees his children?
“They live in this humongous house just outside the town.” She chatters on next to me. “It’s the biggest house I’ve ever seen. They have this huge drive and servants and everything.”
“Have you been in?”
“No.” She blushes and offers me a wry smile. “I wouldn’t exactly be on the guestlist at any popular kid parties.”
“Does he have any other family?” I ask before I can check myself, and I hate that I want to know the answer. “I mean apart from his dad?”
She thinks for a moment and then shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I’ve never heard anyone talk about anyone else.” She laughs. “Not that I’d know though.” She looks embarrassed. “We don’t exactly talk.”
I nod my head whilst trying to convince myself I don’t care that no one knows he has a twin sister.
“He lost his mom last year.” My head whips around to face her as her tone softens. My heart actually aches at just the mention of her death. “It was really awful. The team had just won state and then he found out right after. His mom lived in the UK and he had to fly back there. He was really upset. They had to delay the victory parade until he got back.”
“How inconvenient,” I say dryly.
Horror crosses her face. “I didn’t mean that, just that Ethan is so important to everyone around here that they wanted to wait for him. I know he was absolutely devastated that his mom died.”
I can’t look at her anymore. I can’t control my emotions when talking about my mother, even with a stranger who doesn’t even know who I am.
After almost a full minute, I manage to pull myself together and realise she’s not continued talking. I glance at her, and she’s looking at me in confusion. I wait
for her to look at me properly and make the connection that we look alike and are siblings, but she doesn’t. “It sounds like you know a lot about him,” I tell her after a moment of awkward silence.
She blushes red. “Everyone knows a lot about him, but he wouldn’t even know who I am.”
“Then how do you know he’s nice?”
She shrugs. “He just is. You can tell. He always smiles when he’s walking through the hallways, even though he doesn’t know who we are. He seems really friendly, and I never see him being nasty to anyone.”
This makes me straighten up. “Do other people on his team get nasty?”
She shrugs. “They’re jocks. They think they’re just having fun, but sometimes they take it too far.”
That pisses me off. I hate it when people can’t even see they’re being dicks and justify it as having fun.
“Anyway, Ethan’s not like that,” Pippa carries on. “He’s the most popular person in this school.”
Understanding settles over me as I take in everything she’s just told me. I start to see the way Ethan is viewed over here, the way he’s praised and revered. That’s why he chose living over here over us. Over me.
Pippa clears her throat, and I realise I’ve zoned out again. “Sorry, Ethan’s the most popular guy in school?”
“Well, him and Finn.”
Finn…I remember hearing that name a lot when my mum would talk about Ethan, but I never asked any questions, never asked who he was. I never cared.
Pippa is pointing towards the banner again. “He’s the one lifting Ethan up, the one with the dark hair?”
The one with the dark hair and strong jawline, with the dark brows and golden tan.
Pippa glances at me. “Of course he’s totally gorgeous too. It’s honestly unfair when you see them together, which is all the time.” At my confused look, she explains. “They’re best friends, have been since Ethan moved here in middle school.” At my sceptical look, she starts to laugh. “I sound like a stalker, don’t I?”