by Amare, Mercy
He nods. “Yeah. And Zoe is a little... dramatic. She can't stand it unless there is some kind of fight.”
“I noticed. What a bitch.”
“Stephan, Scarlett!” I hear a voice behind us. We turn around to see Ginny and Britney walking up to us.
“Forget, Zoe. She's a major drama queen,” Brit said, basically saying the same thing Stephan did. “Hang with us tonight.”
I smile, because I'm genuinely happy to hang out with them. They seemed to like me when we first met, before they knew who I was. It's a good feeling. “Ok.”
Britney leaned closer. “By the way, I'm sorry about what I said... About not liking your music.”
I can't help but laugh. I really think I'm going to like Britney.
12:01 am
Hard to get.
Ginny and Brit walk me around, introducing me to people that they know... Which is practically everybody. They just call me Scarlett. A few people recognize me, but we all 3 deny and laugh about it. We say something like why would Scarlett Ryan be in Hope, Florida? People seem to buy this excuse.
All the girls hanging out are wearing provocative clothing. One girl is wearing a pair of short shorts and her thong is sticking out the top. Brit and Ginny make fun of her in secret, but I can't bring myself to laugh. If anything, I feel sorry for her.
A few guys try to stop us and get our phone numbers. Brit and Ginny readily gave out their numbers, which I later find out they are fake numbers. I can't help but laugh at the two of them.
“Why not just tell them you're not interested?” I ask.
They both burst out laughing, like the answer is completely obvious. Brit is the one who explains. “We never said we weren't interested. We just like to play hard to get.”
They both think it is clever, but I think it is kind of stupid. I keep my opinions to myself. Both Ginny and Britney seem to like getting attention from the guys. They don't care if it is good attention or bad attention. I don't understand it, but who am I to judge?
At one point in the night, I feel somebody grab my ass. I turn around and see a guy smiling at me. I quickly put my knee to his groin and smile as he doubles over in pain.
“Touch me again, and I will surgically remove your balls with a knife,” I tell the guy who has a mohawk and tattoos. Figures, typical bad boy.
“Bitch! You messed with the wrong guy!” He grabs my wrist hard, and pulls me toward him. As I get close to the guy, carefully take the heel of my shoe, and kick his shin as hard as I can. He falls over and I laugh. That is going to leave a bruise.
“No. You messed with the wrong girl. Fuck off you perv,” I say, using a fake sweet voice.
About that time, Stephan walks up behind me. “Hey, I'm about to race.” He looks down at the guy on the ground. “Is he bothering you?”
I smile. “Not anymore.”
Ginny, Brit, and I follow him over to his car. They stand a few feet away, waiting for me.
“So...” I hesitate, “are you sure I can't ride with you?” I give him my best pouty face. It always works with Alec, and I'm hoping it works with him.
“Scarlett, no.” He sighs. “I'm sorry. But I couldn't live with myself if I wrecked and you were with me.”
I feel the disappointment rush over me. I'm going to have to work on my sad face.
Stephan leans over and kisses my forehead. “Don't be sad.”
“I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me.” I bite my lip to keep from smiling.
A kiss on the forehead?
REALLY?
I don't think any guy has ever kissed me on the forehead, and I think I just swooned.
“That is hella distracting,” he says. “Now I can't stop thinking about your lips. I wonder how they taste.”
He leans closer, but I back away. “If you win, maybe you'll find out.”
Stephan laughs. “Tease.”
12:22 am
Best. Kiss. Ever.
It's not Zoe doing the flag here. There are actually two girls standing in the middle of the road. One of them is thong girl. The other girl is wearing a skirt equally as short, and a bikini top.
Wow.
What sluts.
I feel bad for my thoughts. I have no right to judge them.
Each of the girls are holding flags. They are holding hands and count down together. They wave their flags down, and all four cars zoom past them. I'm watching Stephan as he takes off, but out of the corner of my eye I see both of the girls start to make out.
“It's amazing what some girls will do for attention,” I hear Ginny say.
“They aren't lesbians?” I ask.
Brit laughs. “No. Ella, the girl with the thong, told me she wasn't even bi-curious. She just likes sex a lot, and says she fucks guys in the back seat of their cars between races.”
“Ewe. That is disgusting.” Stephan's, and the other guys' cars are now out of eyesight. I nervously watch for their return.
“Tell me about it!” Ginny says. “But the girl wearing the bathing suit top, she doesn't care – guy or girl. She even hit on me once.”
“Can you say daddy issues?” Brit laughs.
I look at the girls. Despite the smiles on their faces, I can see pain in their eyes. I wonder what their story is. What makes the girls just give themselves to any and everybody that wants them?
And suddenly, I want to smack myself. Why am I listening to Brit and Ginny? They love to gossip, and I'm not even sure what to believe with the two of them.
Everybody starts cheering and I look to see Stephan and two of the other cars coming back around. The fourth car is a lagging behind. There is one other car slightly ahead of him, but somehow, right before the end, Stephan pulls ahead. As soon as the car stops, I run over to him. He opens the door, gets out, and then throws his arms around me.
“I won. You promised me a kiss,” he says, and before I even have time to respond, he closes the gap between us.
The moment his lips touch mine, I see fireworks. (Trust me, I know that sounds cheesy!) It's like his kiss, his touch... it's what I've been missing my whole life. This kiss... it's what a kiss is supposed to feel like.
He massages my tongue with his, and I can't help but moan with pleasure. He even tastes good. I push him against his car and get as close to him as I can. Every inch of our bodies are literally touching.
I forget that we are on a very crowded street. But then I hear people whistling and yelling at us, and we both pull back.
Stephan is breathing just as heavy as me.
“Wow,” he says.
Yeah, wow.
Best. Kiss. Ever.
Just then, I hear sirens.
“Get in!” Stephan yells at me.
And just like that, our magical moment is over. All the cars that were once lining the street are all taking off in different directions. We both jump in the car, and take off.
“That was awesome!” I say, as we speed away.
“And I won a lot of money.”
“Really?” I look at him questioningly. “You bet on the races?”
He nods. “Yep. You have to pay two thousand dollars to even race.”
“Wait, how do you have two thousand dollars? Do you have a job?” I wonder.
“No. When I turned 18, I got access to half of my trust fund.”
“So you are using your trust fund money to gamble?” I'm kind of in shock. Stephan seems like a smart, level headed guy, and what he's doing is very reckless.
He shrugs. “I haven't lost a race. In fact, I've won over 100 thousand dollars.”
“How do kids in Hope, Florida have that kind of money?” I ask.
“I don't just race here. I went to Miami a few times and raced. The pay out there is higher,” he explains. “And really, it's not even a big deal. I have a large trust fund, and losing a few thousand dollars isn't going to make a dent.”
“Still, Stephan, it's dangerous.” But fun, I add silently.
“Maybe I like danger,” he is jo
king, I think, but then his voice get's very serious. “You know how you feel when you're on stage performing?”
I nod. Suddenly, I am missing the spotlight. I haven't performed in a few weeks, and I miss it.
“Well, that is how I feel when I race. It's like my heart beats fast and slow at the same time. My adrenaline is high, and I feel in control. It's the one thing in life that I control, and it feels amazing.”
When he puts it like that, it makes me want to get in on the action. “Maybe I can race next weekend.”
“Can't do,” he smiles. “Next weekend, we are going to go to the races in Miami.”
“We?”
“We, as in you and me.”
I like this idea. “That sounds awesome.” But then I remember... “No, I can't. Alec is coming. He's bringing me my car.”
“So we will bring him, too,” he suggests.
“Alec will love it.”
I get home around 3am, and I go straight to bed. I have to get up early to meet with Andrew Davis in the morning, and I'm already dreading it. It's going to be a long day.
Saturday, September 12
Way too early AM
Picture of me.
I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing, and instead of hitting ignore and going back to sleep like I want to, I answer it. It's Andrew Davis, my P.I.
“Hello,” I say, trying to sound like I didn't just wake up. I'm pretty sure that I failed.
“Hey, Scarlett. This is Andrew. My car should be at your house in approximately 15 minutes,” he says.
“Ok,” I say, pushing myself up. “Can you maybe give me a clue about this good/ bad news?”
“Let's just say that you won't believe it until you see it. See you soon.”
I end the call and get up. Last night, I didn't even wash off my makeup before bed. I was much too tired. So I throw my hair up in a messy bun, wash away all left over make up, and get dressed in a hurry. I just put on a white sundress, and designer flip flops.
As I walk down the stairs, my doorbell rings. I go to the door, and hesitate. I need a minute because I know that no matter what the news is, it's going to change my life. I've waited nine long years for this moment. And it's finally here. Or at least, I hope it is.
I take a deep breath and open the door. My P.I. is standing there, looking like he hasn't slept in days. His face is scruffy, he has circles under his eyes, and his blonde hair is starting to grow long.
“Come in,” I say.
Andrew follows me into the living room, and sits down on my white leather couch. He doesn't say anything, he just looks at me, almost like he's puzzled.
“So, did you find Stacy?” I ask. I pace back and forth, and fidget with my fingers.
“I think you should sit down,” he instructs.
I don't hesitate, I sit. My legs feel like noodles. “Oh god, is it bad news?” I feel dread wash over me. I don't know if I can live with the news if she's dead.
He sighs. “I haven't found Stacy yet, Scarlett. I'm sorry.”
I feel relief for a second. No news means that she could very well be ok... But I'm also disappointed. I really wanted the news to be about Stacy. If the news isn't about her, then what is it?
“But, I found something else...” he pulls a large manila envelope out of his briefcase. “Did you know that you're adopted?”
It feels as though all of the oxygen has suddenly been sucked out of the room. “Excuse me?” I choke out. “I am not adopted.”
“You have another sister.” He opens the envelope, and hands me a photograph... It's a picture of me.
“Um...” I look back up at him. “This is me.”
“Look closer.”
So I do. The person in the picture looks exactly like me, but it's NOT me. Same long blonde hair, same blue eyes, same small body frame, and same smile... But the clothes are definitely not anything that I have ever worn. She's wearing a pair of jeans, but they're definitely not designer, and a t-shirt that is much too big for her. I also don't recognize where the picture was taken. It's definitely not anywhere I've been before.
“She looks so much like me...” I can't look away from the picture.
“This is Bridget Evans, and she is your twin sister.”
“My... my... tw... twin?” I feel my body start to tremble. How could I have gone 19 years without knowing that I have a twin sister? “No, certainly this is a mistake. She just looks a lot like me. She can't be my sister.”
“I assure you, it's not a mistake. Bridgett is your twin sister.” He takes the photograph from my hand. “What do you say about a trip to Columbia, South Carolina?”
I nod. I have to meet this girl. I have to know. “Let me pack, and we'll go.”
9:33 am
How could she not love you?
Since I have been traveling my whole life, I am very fast at packing. I throw everything together within five minutes, and by 9:33 am, I am boarding a private jet that Andrew arranged for us. I send Stephan a quick email.
Stephan,
There is some urgent family matters that I need to take care of. I do not know how long I will be gone. I'm sorry I can't say more right now, but I will update you as soon as I can.
Scarlett
I hit send, and then turn my phone on airplane mode. It feels weird sending him such a “formal” email considering how our relationship has grown, but I push it to the back of my mind. I lean back against the seat as the airplane takes off.
“Do you have any questions for me?” Andrew asks.
“Bridgett... What is she like?”
“I got to observe her for a week. She is a lot like you, but a lot different,” he replies. “It's the little expressions she makes, the things she says, her laugh, her body language... She truly is your twin. But she's different. She is not quite as outgoing as you are, she always has her nose in a book, and she can't sing. Trust me, I've heard her.”
I can't help but laugh. “She sounds awesome... I guess she got all the brains.”
I try to remember the last book I read, but I can't. It has been a long time, and just the thought of picking one up hurts my head.
“I wonder why she hasn't tried to contact me,” I say. “I mean, I've been in the spotlight for 4 years. Certainly she's seen me... Doesn't she wonder why we share the same face?”
“That is something that I do not know. You're going to have to ask Bridgett that question.”
Then a thought hits me... What if Bridgett doesn't want anything to do with me? Or what if she doesn't like me when she meets me.
“Are you sure she wants me to find her? What if she doesn't like me?” I ask. I've never considered myself an insecure person, but at the moment, I can't help but feel intimidated.
“Again, that's something you have to ask her... But, if I was her, I would never let you go,” he smiles. “Scarlett, she's your twin. How could she not love you?”
“I guess you're right,” I say, but I still worry.
2:30 pm
What do I do now?
Our plane lands around 1:30, and we drive straight to Bridgett's house from the airport. Now, I am sitting in a car, looking at her house, and trying to get up the nerve to get out of the car. I reach for the door handle for the twentieth time, and take a deep breath.
Bridgett's house is a small, one story brick home. It's in the suburbs, and it has a tiny yard. The houses are literally three feet away from each other. It is completely different than what I'm used to. Even before moving to LA, we had a pretty big house in Seattle.
“You can do this,” Andrew says, as I get out of the car.
I repeat his words to myself over and over again as I walk towards the house. As I get to the front door, it opens up before I get a chance to knock. A kid who looks about four, or five is looking up at me.
“What are ya doing out here, Bridgett?” she asks.
“Umm...” I'm not sure what to say to the child.
“Come play tea party with me,” she says, pulling m
y hand. I look back at the car with a what do I do now expression.
I stop her once she pulls me inside the house. “I'm not Bridgett. I'm Scarlett. Is Bridgett here?”
She laughs. “You're funny.”
Just then, I hear a voice. “Natalee, who are you talking to?” The voice sounds just like me. The little girl must have noticed too, because now she's staring at me.
I see Bridgett come around the corner of the hallway, and she stops in her tracks when she sees me. I feel my heart instantly stop, and then jump into overdrive at the sight of her. We both stare at each other, but it's not awkward. It's more like amazement. I'm not sure how long we look at each other, seconds, minutes? But neither of us say a word.
Bridgett is my identical twin. And if we were wearing the same clothes, I could swear that I was looking in a mirror. I'm even sure that our shocked expressions match.
“Whoa,” I hear the little girl say, breaking our trance.
Bridgett looks at the little girl, then at me. “Can I help you?” she says.
I still can't get over her voice. “I'm Scarlett Ryan,” I say. “And I think... we're... sisters... twins...”
She steps closer to me, her eyes never leaving mine. She has a determined look, and I can tell she's going to challenge me. I don't blame her. I didn't believe it, at least not until I saw her. Now, there is no doubting it. “When were you born?”
“July twenty seventh. I'm 19 years old,” I answer.
“Scarlett Ryan...” she says my name.
I have to ask. “Do you know who I am?”
She half laughs. “Everybody knows who you are. You're a rock star. And we can't be sisters. It's just a coincidence. The birthday, and the face...”
“Were you adopted?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she answers. “My parent's couldn't have children... Or at least not until Natalee came along.”
The little girl is still staring at the both of us.
“Natalee,” Bridgett looks at the little girl, “why don't you go play in your room for a little bit.”
The little girl complains, but she does what Bridgett says.