Get Even

by Amanda Heath

  My sister left me at that party. You know the one. She was supposed to drive me home that night but she left with some friends and never came back to get me. Doesn’t sound like Sarah, right? That’s what I’m talking about. It scared me how she could change so quickly into someone I didn’t recognize.

  I never told anyone that little fact either. While my mother runs around blaming me for her mother’s death, in all actuality, you could blame it on Sarah. I had a ride home when I arrived at that party. It wasn’t my fault she abandoned me. But, then again, I was a sixteen-year-old girl; I shouldn’t have been going to parties to begin with, so it is my fault. The choices we make determine our whole lives. You take the wrong step; things take a turn for the worst and you’re left with the pieces. People love to blame everyone else for their choices but the only person they have to blame is themselves. That’s why I always smile when someone tells their kid to make good choices. It’s the best advice you can ever give. If I had stayed home that night, my Gran would be here right now. She would hold me through losing Sarah and Pops wouldn’t be out here alone while I lie in my misery.

  Another incident when she hurt me with her dark side is the night her ex-boyfriend beat me up. She went into the bathroom while he broke my bones and my spirit. I would never have left her to deal with that. She made that choice though; she made the choice to be with a guy like that. You can see it their eyes, men who take pleasure in hurting women. Plus, they’re too charming for their own good. I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what she was doing the whole time. Should I really blame her for going into that bathroom? No, I shouldn’t, because she was scared and she needed to get help. I’m just saying if our roles were reversed, I would never have gone into that bathroom. I would never have left her to get beat up.

  Those are all minor compared to the worst thing she ever did. I had always had this thought in my head that I knew my sister. I thought I could predict her actions and that we were the best of friends. But a few years ago that wasn’t the case. I’m not telling you this to make you hate her. In fact, I want you to see that she was human just like the rest of us. She was impulsive and had her faults. She made mistakes and sometimes she owned up to them and other times she didn’t. Sometimes she even blamed them on me. I did the same thing. We were imperfect but we loved each other and nothing could ever change that.

  Though it came real close.

  If you ever wondered how Max and Sarah got together, it was because of Tate. We’ll speak more of Tate later, now it’s all about Sarah.

  When I looked at Tate, long before I had sex with him, I saw a handsome guy with darkness in his eyes. I saw a complicated man I didn’t want to mess with because I knew it wouldn’t end well. I saw someone who I had nothing in common with and I pretty much didn’t pay much attention to him.

  Sarah though, she saw something else. Where Tate’s and my past held common ground and brought us together, Tate’s spark of darkness and Sarah’s pulled them together.

  She also saw a rich man who treated women with respect and I honestly don’t think she gave a shit that I was sleeping with him. No one was allowed to hurt me but Sarah, and she did that night five years ago.

  Tate and I had been sleeping together for about three months. He would wait for me to get off from work and then he’d pick me up and take me back to his apartment. Things would get nice and heavy. I felt safe with him. I felt free with him. He didn’t mind that I was a little controlling in bed or that I was a little submissive. It just depended on my mood. Sometimes we would fight through our fucking until we both passed out from all the energy we spent.

  Then one night he was late picking me up. I should have seen that as an omen but I didn’t. I was stupid. Tate is never late for anything, especially when it came down to picking me up for our weekly night together.

  God I was so fucking stupid.

  When life throws you nothing but shit, you shouldn’t ever expect anything but shit. I hadn’t realized then what my life is or would become. I was blind to it because I wanted to be happy; I tried so hard to be happy. I thought Tate was it. I was slowly falling in love with the man and I thought those feelings were returned.

  Wrong.

  So wrong Farah, so wrong.

  When we got back to his apartment, Sarah’s car was there. That’s when alarm bells started going off in my head. I knew it wasn’t right, there was no reason for her to even be there.

  Tate got out of the truck and moved to my door. I locked it though before he could open it and attack me with his mouth, which is what he did all those other times.

  It was the bright reddish purple thing on his neck. We had decided two weeks before this that we were exclusive. We didn’t want a name to our relationship but we knew we didn’t want anyone else. Or so I thought on his part.

  “What are you doing?” Tate asked, and I always found that funny because how stupid did he think I was?

  I raised both eyebrows and pointed to his neck. “Fuck!” he bellowed, turning around to kick the shit out of Sarah’s car.

  “Why are you kicking her car? Huh, Tate? Did you do something you shouldn’t have?” I screamed through the car. It was the very first time we fought. If I had known the kind of anger and resentment the two of us would share, I would have run in the opposite direction the moment I met him.

  “I didn’t…I didn’t know she left a mark,” he had said, tears starting to appear in his eyes.

  That’s how you know a man is seriously sorry for something. It may not last or ever appear again but right that moment, Tate was sorry for what he did. It didn’t matter though because it was done. It was done the moment I saw that hickey. I didn’t care if my sister had given it to him or not. He let some other girl touch him when he said he wouldn’t.

  “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what you meant to do,” I had whispered, tears filling up my own eyes. “You can’t do that Tate. You can’t tell someone you only want them and then throw it all away.”

  His hands had reached up to his hair and he pulled at the strands even though they were barely long enough to hang onto. “I thought she was you! Goddman it!”

  That sent me into hysterics. How could he have ever thought Sarah was me? I didn’t answer him though; I had just reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I called a taxi service, even though I didn’t really have the money to spare.

  I let out a shocked scream when he appeared right out the passenger side window. His hands were against the glass and I wanted so hard to just put mine up against his. “She came in my room. She came on to me. I thought she was you.” One tear ran down his face and I wanted so bad to wipe it away. “I really thought she was you.”

  “For how long, Tate? Huh? How long did you think she was me?” I had questioned, my voice sharp and full of anger mixed with pain.

  He closed his eyes and didn’t answer that question. “I didn’t fuck her. I swear. She’s in there right now, in Max’s bed.”

  My stomach rolled at that. Then I had the overwhelming need to slap the fuck out of her. So I unlocked the doors and got out of Tate’s truck. He tried to touch me but I stepped out of his way. “Don’t fucking touch me. You won’t ever touch me again.” I know it was harsh but I was hurt and pissed. Those are never good emotions to have at the same time.

  People get hurt.

  I stormed up the stairs and entered the apartment where Tate and I had shared all our memories. I still hate that fucking place. I ran down the hall, Tate was hot on my heels. I burst open the door to Max’s room and found my twin sister grinding her hips down on Max. They, of course, were both naked.

  I’m still ashamed of what I did next. Okay, no I’m not. They all deserved it.

  I had grabbed my sister’s long hair and yanked until she was flying across the bed and onto the floor. I didn’t take anything in except Max’s face. I wasn’t about to fuck him, so what was the point? Instead, I climbed on the bed and I got in his face.

  Then I kissed hi
m.

  Right on the mouth, right after he’d been fucking my sister. I used my lips, my tongue, my hands but not my body. Max responded not long into it. I was actually surprised by that. How quickly he got into it.

  I then broke away from him and looked back at Tate who was standing in the doorway, shock written all over his face. “How does it feel Tatum? How does it fucking feel?!”

  Then I looked down at my sister, still straddling Max. Her eyes were fucking wide and I could see the fear. She knew what happens when you push me. I’m sure you’ve figured out it doesn’t take much for me to lose it. I started rolling my hips while I was watching her eyes. “They aren’t twins, Sarah. You can’t fuck one, pretending it’s the other one.”

  Max was groaning underneath me and for some strange reason it gave me a twisted sense of pleasure. Also, it was really hard to stop because it felt good to me too. Let’s not touch that with a ten-foot pole anytime soon.

  Anyway, I had looked down at Max and said, “Thanks for letting me borrow you.” Then I leaned over and kissed him again, tongue and all.

  Then I broke away from him and left the room. Everyone inside was still slack-jawed and awed by my performance.

  I don’t know all the details, but that’s how Max and Sarah met. My sister was a bit of a slut before she met him, if you hadn’t figured that out. She was imperfect and I couldn’t love her more. She could bring me down just as much as she could raise me up.

  Though I didn’t speak to her for three months after that fiasco. And as much as I wanted to quit my job, I couldn’t because I needed it. So, thankfully, I bought my own car so I wouldn’t have to rely on Sarah for a ride anymore. I also refused to serve Tate and Max. They still came in for their weekly dinner but I stayed clear of them.

  I could see them around corners or hiding in plain sight and it fucking hurt. It hurt to see Tate and sometimes I wondered if I had the courage to just go talk to him. Then I’d realize that was weakness. I could serve them, be friendly, if it had been anybody other than my sister. I could be civil if only it hadn’t been Sarah.

  Three months was a long ass time to be silent towards a twin sister that’s been in your life since the moment it began. She was with them sometimes, sitting next to Max. I do know they fell in love a lot faster than Tate and I, considering Tate and I never fell in love.

  I did hate him though. I hated her too and even had room to hate Max as well. I don’t know why, really, he wasn’t a player in that game, he just got caught up because I can’t forgive wrong and I have to make it worse.

  Tate still texted me though. I never answered but I don’t think he really wanted me to. He still had a connection to me, even if I didn’t respond. I made sure my phone was set up to tell him I read the texts. I never cared though, about anything he had to say. I could only see the sight of that bruise on his neck and the way he couldn’t answer how long it took him to realize it wasn’t me, that it was my fucking twin sister.

  He would say things like: I thought of you today. Max was blaring that band you love so much. It made me miss you, doll face.

  Or: I saw you tonight, at Roadhouse. It broke my heart seeing you but not being able to speak to you. I kept wishing you’d look up and meet my eyes.

  Then: I think about you when I’m lying in bed at night. I miss the way my pillow used to smell after you spent the night. I miss the weight of your body on mine because for a moment in time you were mine.

  And: I generally feel like shit every fucking day. It took so much time and trust to get you into my arms. I still see the look on your face when I close my eyes. I can’t believe I fucked it all up.

  It drove me nuts, some of the things he said, considering we were only together for three months. I didn’t love him, how could I when I hated him so much. The truth was, I hated myself and I didn’t really hate any of them. I just pretended I did. I let myself get comfortable. I let myself get attached. I was stupid. I shouldn’t have gone home with him. I shouldn’t have given him the time of day.

  So fucking stupid.

  By the time three months had passed I was tired of listening to Alanis Morissette and Toni Braxton because there is nothing like a nineties mix tape to help you get over a break up. So I opened the door for my sister to come back into my life. I missed her more than I ever thought I would, especially after what she did. She KNEW what it was like for me. She knew why I wouldn’t let men into my life. She knew I had a horrible time trying to trust people. And she betrayed me the most.

  So, I had texted her and told her to come to Pops’ and talk to me. I told her I wanted to fix our relationship and I hoped that she did too. Luckily, Sarah wanted that. I don’t know what I would have done if she blew me off or refused to talk to me.

  She showed up three hours after my text message. Her car pulled into the driveway and I was sitting on the front porch in Pops’ rocking chair. I had told him she was coming over, so he hightailed it out of there. He’s not one for drama, especially girl drama.

  “Hey,” she had said, looking down at the ground instead of at me.

  “Hey,” I replied, hoping this whole encounter wasn’t going to be awkward.

  She had taken a big deep breath and sat down where I usualy sit when Pops is in the chair. She raised her knees and set her chin on them. “I could say any number of things to try to make it better but I won’t do that. I missed you too much to piss you off right now.”

  I nodded, hearing the regret in her voice. I’d never abandoned her like that before. She had continually texted and called me. For the first two weeks she wouldn’t stop trying and it drove me fucking nuts. At that point I couldn’t stand the sight of her so that meant I couldn’t even look in the mirror without overwhelming pain attacking my insides. She showed up at Pops’ a number of times but she finally got the message. I wasn’t budging until I was ready.

  “I have no excuses. I just got so jealous, you know. You had this perfect rich boyfriend you couldn’t stop talking about. I looked at my life and all I saw was you. I didn’t have a man or a job. I’m still trying to make it through college and here you are, having it all figured out.” She paused to wipe away the tears that started streaming down her face. “I wanted to take it all away from you. I have never been jealous of you before and I handled it really badly.”

  Her words are like knives to my heart. I’ve spent my entire life jealous of Sarah and I never once ever did anything to her about it. Maybe I should have, maybe I should have tried to take the stuff in her life away from her. Then she could have felt the way I did.

  “Wish I could do the same to you, Sarah. I’ve wished all my life for the kind of love Mom gives you. I’ve wished for the money and brains to go to college. I’ve wished for my own apartment. I’ve wished for a number of things you had but,” I held my finger up when she opened her mouth, “I never once fucking tried to take it from you.”

  “I know, Farah. I know,” she said, like that solved everything and made it all better.

  “How long did it take him to realize it wasn’t me?” I whispered. I had to know. It’s just one of those things that would eat you alive until you couldn’t stand it anymore. I just had to know.

  She took a deep swallow and looked me in the eyes so I would know. I hated her eyes at that moment because I could tell she wasn’t going to give me a good answer. Her stupid blue eyes. “Five seconds.”

  I had closed my eyes and clenched my jaw, trying to keep my scream inside. “You should leave,” I told her, wishing I could sink into that chair, become that chair. Then the only asshole I would have to put up with is Pops.

  “I’m sorry, Farah. I’m so sorry,” she told me, getting to her knees and lifting her hand to touch me. When her skin connected with mine, I flung her hand away and not gently.

  I looked at her in her blue summer dress that made her eyes pop and her black flats with her big fat blonde curls and all I wanted to do was punch her in the face. Then I looked down at myself, my holey jeans, my DD band s
hirt and my big fat curls three different colors and I knew I would never be good enough for anyone. Not with Sarah in my life.

  I remember this feeling coming over me. It was refreshing and utopic. I’d live in her shadow and I wouldn’t have anything to worry about. No other guy would ever be able to rip my heart out again.

  That’s what my choices had been whittled down to. Either I had Sarah or I had a man. I mean, I couldn’t trust her around any guy I wanted. I guess it might have been petty, but I vowed to be better than Sarah that day. I vowed I would never hurt my sister the way she hurt me. I vowed to be the best fucking sister that ever lived.

  “You need to give me a few days. Then I’ll call you. I just can’t stand the sight of you right now,” I told her, standing up so I was towering over her while her knees got red and dirty from the hardwood floor of the porch.

  She nodded and got to her feet as well. “You…” she let out a breath and bit her lip. “You forgive me?”

  I put my hands up and cupped them around her cheeks; cheeks that looked just like mine. Hell, I wasn’t sure how she could look at me. “I forgive you, Sarah. I’ll always forgive you for everything you’ve done and are yet to do.” She looked relieved but my face was grim because I wasn’t done making her feel like shit. “I won’t ever forget a thing though. I won’t ever forget any hurt you give me. I’ll keep trucking on because I’m a better sister than you’ll ever be.”

  I know I was mean. I know I shouldn’t have said that. But we’re talking about real words and real human emotion. I had every right to be pissed and every right to give her hell. I just didn’t have the right to give her hell for forever. And I didn’t, because I’m not a dick.

  Plus, she never did anything else to hurt me except die and she couldn’t control that. I only wish she was still alive for one moment so I could tell her I never really held anything against her. I never got to tell her that or the fact that I forgave her seconds after because that’s what you do. You forgive because you love that person more than you love yourself.