Beautiful Sacrifice

by Jamie McGuire

  "Falyn," Taylor said through his teeth, "I see you've met my brother Tyler."

  "Tyler?" I asked, wiping his lips from my mouth.

  "My twin brother," Taylor clarified.

  Tyler wasn't exactly happy either. "You know her?" he asked, rubbing the bright red handprint on his cheek.

  "Yeah," Taylor said, taking a step toward his doppelganger. "Tyler, meet Falyn."

  The moment my name came out of Taylor's mouth, things began to happen very fast. Tyler looked at me, and Taylor swung, his fist catching his twin square on the same cheek I'd already assaulted. Both men fell to the ground, a blur of punching and grabbing.

  Dalton and Zeke were happy to stand back and watch.

  "Hey!" I yelled at Taylor's crew. "Make them stop!"

  Dalton crossed his arms and shook his head. "I'm not jumping in between two Maddox brothers. I want to live."

  A crowd began to form around us, and Darren rushed over. When recognition hit, a similar resignation softened his face.

  "Darren!" I yelled. "Do your job!"

  Darren's eyebrows shot up. "Have you seen these two fight?"

  I shook my head.

  "I have. They'll quit when they quit."

  "When will that be?" I asked, not sure who was punching whom.

  "All right! All right! You're gonna get us arrested, fuck nugget!"

  The brothers stood up, bloody, their shirts ripped. I tried to remember what Tyler was wearing when I'd first seen him. I couldn't. They were both wearing T-shirts, one white and one blue. As they stood in front of me, I couldn't tell which one was my friend and which one I'd just kissed. It was unsettling.

  I pushed past them, making my way to the exit.

  "Falyn!"

  A hand cupped my shoulder and whirled me around. There he was, my friend Taylor, in a blue T-shirt with red droplets around his collar and a split lip.

  I sighed, touching a place near his eye that looked like carpet burn. "You okay?"

  "Yes, I--"

  "Awesome. I'm going home."

  Taylor followed me outside, interrupting my getaway just a few feet away from the door. "Falyn, whoa. Stop!"

  Reluctantly, I stopped.

  "I'm sorry, okay? I had no idea that was going to happen."

  I crossed my arms. "You have an identical twin brother. How was I supposed to know? You even have the same tattoos!"

  "I told you that!"

  "But you didn't tell me you also had the same face!"

  His shoulders fell. "I know. I should have told you. If I'd known you were coming, I would have given you a heads-up, but ..."

  "But what?"

  "The twins thing. It's so stupid, and it's worse for us because we look so much alike. He's just my brother. We're not the same person. But when we're together, it's like we're starring in a freak show."

  "Whatever. I'm going home."

  "Falyn." When I didn't stop or turn around, he caught me by the wrist and pulled me against him. "Falyn."

  I looked up at him. His features were so severe that they might even be frightening if I didn't know him better.

  "It really fucking bothers me that my brother kissed you before I did."

  "What makes you think I would ever let you kiss me?"

  "You let Tyler kiss you." His expression softened. "You thought he was me, didn't you?"

  I pulled away from him and crossed my arms, pissed that he was right.

  "So ... do you still want me to kiss you?"

  "If I can slap the shit out of you after, sure."

  He thought about it for half a second. "I think it'd be worth it."

  I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile. "I'm glad it wasn't you. It was disappointing."

  "He's a bad kisser?" Taylor asked, amused.

  "No. There was just ... nothing"--I referenced the space between us--"there."

  "Huh. Now, I'm curious."

  "I'm not kissing two brothers in one night."

  Taylor looked down at his watch. "We are now four minutes into tomorrow."

  "No."

  I walked down to the street corner and pressed the crosswalk button. Taylor followed me, staying quiet until we reached the front door of the Bucksaw.

  He chuckled as I turned the key in the lock.

  "C'mon. Aren't you a little bit curious?" he asked.

  "Nope."

  "I am," he said, following me inside.

  I shook my head. "I don't exist to satisfy your need for competition with your twin."

  "That's not what this is."

  "This isn't about you being jealous?" I asked, turning to face him. "It doesn't bother you that you'll be walking back to Cowboys, knowing he kissed me and you got the shaft? I don't want you to kiss me for rivalry or ego."

  "Just to get you to Eakins, right?" As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he regretted them. He reached for me. His hand cupped my shoulder, and he brushed my bangs from my face. "I am a royal fucking skag. Sorry. I'm just pissed."

  "I knew there would be conditions. I don't want anyone holding anything over my head. I left my parents, Taylor. I can walk away from you."

  His brows pulled together. "Don't you think I know that?"

  I sighed. "I want to go to Eakins, and I don't want something like petty jealousy getting in the way of that."

  He took a step back, his expression changing. As if his anger was just barely contained, he kept his voice low and controlled as he said, "I'm not jealous. I fucking hate that his mouth was on yours. I've never felt that heated toward one of my brothers, ever, until tonight. I've been trying to play this off, but whatever this is ... it's not petty, Falyn."

  I shifted. "It was just a stupid kiss, Taylor. I was overly friendly because I mistook him for you, and it piqued his interest."

  Taylor looked away, his jaw working under the skin. "I know it wasn't intentional. Doesn't make me feel any better." He sighed and then rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm gonna ... I'm gonna go. You make me feel ... not myself."

  "Okay. Well, good night."

  My casual demeanor only made Taylor more agitated, and he approached me, stopping a few feet away. "I know what I said before, but I like you."

  "C'mon, Taylor. You barely know me."

  He nodded, pensive. "Not for lack of trying." He backed away and pushed through the door.

  The turn in conversation stunned me. In an effort not to screw up, I'd screwed up. My feet slogged toward the back until I heard a quiet low voice in the darkness.

  "Hey," Chuck said from the last barstool. He took a drink from a beer can.

  "Jesus!" I squealed. "That's the second time someone has scared the shit out of me today!"

  "Sorry," he said simply.

  "You okay?" I asked.

  "Yep. Just had to meet a delivery truck running late. Finally got everything put away. You know how Phaedra is about order."

  "Where is she?" I asked, knowing she would usually be at the cafe to help when a truck came after-hours.

  "She's not feeling great. I think she's still shaken up about ole Don. His obituary was in the paper today. The funeral is on Monday. You should go."

  "Are you guys going?"

  He shook his head. "I'm not. Phaedra was hoping you'd go with her."

  I brushed my bangs from my eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go."

  "She's a little worried about you."

  "Me?"

  "Yeah, you. And now, I am, too. Is that boy bleeding from you or something else?"

  I sighed and sat on the stool next to Chuck. The darkness and emptiness seemed to amplify our voices.

  "He got into a fight with his brother. They're twins. His brother kissed me. I thought it was Taylor. Taylor punched him. The brother hit back. It's messed up."

  "I gather."

  "He's going to take me home with him sometime. To Eakins. I think."

  Chuck crunched the empty can in his hand. "Does he know?"

  "No," I said simply. When Chuck made a face, I raised my hands, palm
s out. "He doesn't want to know."

  "Not that you'd tell him if he did."

  "Probably not."

  "Falyn--"

  "I know. I know. He's going to figure it out eventually."

  "That's not what I was going to say. If that's really what you want, Phaedra and I want to help."

  I shook my head and stood. "No."

  "Falyn," Chuck pleaded.

  "We've talked about this. You've already done too much. You've given me a job and a place to live."

  "You barely let us do that," he said, arching a brow.

  "Thank you for even considering it. But Taylor is the plan."

  "He seems like a good kid."

  I nodded.

  "And you're a good kid. I think he probably deserves to know what he's in for ... and you probably know that, too. I'm sure that's difficult since you've spent so much time not talking about it. But the fact remains the same. If he's going to take you out there, he should probably know to hold your hand."

  I thought about that for a moment. "You're worried about him not knowing ... not for him, but for me."

  "It's going to be a rough trip, kiddo."

  "I hear what you're saying," I said. "I'll sleep on it."

  Chuck pressed his lips together. "Good idea."

  "Night." I trudged up the stairs. My legs felt like wet noodles, complaining every time I tried to move them.

  I wondered if Taylor was as sore as I was. Tomorrow would be even worse--for more reasons than one.

  The end of the next shift approached quiet and slow, no low roar of conversations. The only voices breaking the silence were from employees and five customers.

  "It's almost September," Phaedra said, scowling at the wet sidewalk and the raindrops streaking down the front windows. "Why in the frickity frack is it raining so much?"

  Chuck shook his head. He was caught up with the entrees, having the rare opportunity to venture out into the dining area during dinner hours. "We need the rain, remember, honey?"

  Phaedra sighed and headed for the back. "I'm going to make some pies. Kirby, go home."

  Kirby huffed in defeat, pulling at her apron strings. "Good thing I have my car back." She grabbed her keys and purse before leaving out the front door.

  I plodded behind the bar, looking for something to clean.

  "Falyn?" Kirby called.

  "Yeah?" As soon as I looked up, I swallowed back the rising panic.

  Kirby was standing in front of her hostess podium with Taylor.

  "Hey, Tay," I said.

  Taylor laughed once, a dozen emotions scrolling over his face, none of them amusement. "Hey, Ivy League."

  I noticed one strap over his shoulder. "What's with the backpack?"

  He set the pack on a stool toward the center of the bar.

  "I brought you something." After a short pause, he tugged on the zipper, pulled out a small white sack, and set it on the bar.

  "A present?" I said, trying not to show my nervousness.

  "Don't open it until I leave."

  "Where are you going?"

  "Not work."

  "Oh."

  "It's raining, Falyn. We're dragging up."

  I made a face. "I don't speak hotshot. What does that mean?"

  "There's enough moisture on the ground that the local guys can handle the area. I'm leaving."

  "But ... you said you were here until October."

  He shrugged, defeat on his face. "I can't stop the rain."

  I stared at him, speechless. The passing rain clouds were becoming night clouds, darkening the sky.

  "Don't give me any shit about your present, okay? For once in your life, don't be a huge pain in the ass."

  "Whatever you say," I said, deflated.

  "Whatever I say?" he said, blinking.

  "I guess I'll see you around." I pulled the sack off the counter and put it behind the bar.

  "Falyn--"

  "It's fine," I said, inexplicably scrubbing the bar with a dry cloth.

  He sighed. "We're not doing the stupid misunderstanding thing. I'm coming back. We're going to do what we said we'd do."

  "Mmkay."

  "Don't do that," he said, his shoulders falling.

  I stopped scrubbing and painted on a smile. "If we do, great. If not, I'll figure it out. I'm not your responsibility."

  He narrowed his eyes and zipped his backpack closed before slinging it over his shoulder. "You're going to miss me."

  "Not at all."

  "Yeah, you are. You're pissed because you're going to miss me like hell."

  "No," I said, shaking my head and continuing to not clean the counter with the cloth in quick circles. "That would be a total waste of time."

  "Stop being a hard-ass," he quipped. "I'm going to miss you, too."

  My quick circles slowed.

  "That's why I'm coming back next weekend to get you. To take you home. My home. To Eakins."

  "What?" I looked up at him, my eyes instantly glossing over.

  "I wanted to leave tomorrow, but Chuck said the funeral--"

  "Next weekend?" Tears spilled over onto my cheeks in twin streams.

  Taylor's expression changed from smug to desperation. "We can go tomorrow. I just thought--"

  "No," I said, wiping my face. "No, next weekend is perfect. But"--I pointed at him--"don't promise."

  He shook his head. "Fuck no, I'm not promising. I'll promise not to if you want."

  I climbed over the counter and jumped on him, throwing my arms and legs around him. "Thank you!" I kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

  Taylor chuckled, trying to cover his surprise. His hand settled on the back of my hair, and he pressed his cheek against mine. "I'll see you in a week."

  I relaxed my grip on him, and he lowered me to the floor. Out of pure excitement, I slid my hands between his sides and his arms, and I clasped my fingers together, squeezing him. "You make it really hard not to get my hopes up."

  "If I disappointed you, I think Phaedra would murder me--right after Chuck slit my throat."

  I glanced over to Chuck, who was holding a knife to his own throat and pretending to slice it, not at all teasing.

  Taylor leaned over after I released my hold on him, and he kissed my cheek before backing away. "There's a phone in that sack. My number's already in it. Text me your travel info, so I can book the tickets."

  I quickly looked back at the bar. "Are you ..." My breath caught. "You're killing me."

  "Don't call me Tay. Ever again. Or the deal's off."

  I shook my head. "I won't even call you an asshole behind your back."

  Reluctantly, he continued toward the door, adjusting the backpack. "Send nudes!" he called back, flashing the peace sign before pushing his way out to the sidewalk.

  I looked to Chuck and Phaedra. "I don't even understand life right now. What is going on?"

  I ran around the counter and scrambled for the sack before tearing the phone from beneath the layers of tissue paper. I was fairly certain the three bare asses on the wallpaper belonged to Taylor, Dalton, and Zeke even though all three men's faces were obscured as they were slightly bent while they mooned the camera.

  I choked back tears and covered my mouth.

  "Who does that?" I asked to no one in particular. I looked to Phaedra, who had tears in her eyes, too. "I'm going. Next weekend, I'll be in Eakins."

  "I'm happy for you, honey," Phaedra said, holding out her arms as she walked toward me. Squeezing me tight, she patted my back. "But if he follows through on his promise, there won't be enough of him left for Chuck to slice after I'm through with him."

  She let go of me, and the phone in my hand buzzed. The name on the screen read, TAYLORBEAST. I swiped the screen over and read the text.

  Stop missing me. It's embarrassing.

  I shook my head and slid the phone into my apron. I would return it the moment we were back from Eakins, but his kindness was overwhelming.

  For the rest of my shift, it was impossible not to be d
istracted by images of rolling into town and realizing my own atonement--from a respectable distance--without anyone being the wiser. I'd dreamed about it for so long, and knowing it was just a week away was almost unbearable.

  Closing up might take twice as long without Kirby there to help, but we were so slow that I started well before Phaedra flipped the sign and locked the door.

  I counted my tips and separated them out for Kirby, locking her portion in the cash register, and then I headed upstairs, waving to Pete and Hector as I passed.

  Falling onto my couch, I pulled my new phone from my apron and held it in front of me with both hands. Taylor had sent more texts.

  Well crap. Now I miss you. Thanks for being a bad influence.

  What time do you get off?

  Just text me when you're off.

  Waiting sucks.

  With my thumbs, I typed on the touch screen.

  I hope you weren't driving.

  Immediately, three dots appeared, having their own little dance party on the screen.

  What the heck does that mean?

  Then a message popped up.

  Nah, I let Dalton drive.

  Oh. It means he's typing.

  I typed again, wondering if he could tell that I was replying.

  Everyone home safe and sound then?

  Yep.

  I wasn't sure what to say after that. It had been a long time since I communicated with someone via a phone screen. I was out of practice.

  The phone clunked against the coffee table when I set it down, and I decided on venturing out to the thrift store soon to see if they had phone cases. I'd never checked before. Maybe Kirby had an old one I could use.

  The phone buzzed again.

  What is your travel info?

  You're booking now?

  As good a time as any.

  Are you sure?

  Yep.

  I typed in my full name and birth date.

  Imogene? That's the worst middle name ever.

  ?

  I can't spell that.

  You just did.

  Always making things difficult.

  You can thank my mother for that. What's your middle name?

  Dean.

  Easy enough.

  That's what all the girls say. Will book tonight.

  I put the phone on the table again and then settled back against the couch, propping my legs on the throw pillow. I was getting text messages on a cell phone, and I was going to Eakins, Illinois, in a few days. My life had felt completely different before, and even though it was scary, I'd known it was for the best, and this felt the same.

  The room was quiet with muted throbs of bass coming from Cowboys down the block. I thought of Taylor Dean two-stepping, hiking, watching VHS tapes, and doing laundry. I thought about how wonderful life could be if I could add closure to it all.