Firsts: Book One’s

by Moore, Portia

  She swallows hard.

  “Uhm. He has you saved as that in his phone.” She attempts to explain but I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about, and what the fuck is she doing here and why is she acting like she doesn’t know me?

  “This is Megan, she’s crashing with us.” Blue attempts to get up but falls back in his chair.

  “Megan?” I say it, as if it disgusts me. She glances at Blue and then back at me nervously.

  “I know this is unexpected, I hope it’s okay.” Her voice is small and she tosses the glass shards in the garbage. She walks over to Blue and puts his arm around her neck then looks up at me as if to ask for help. I take in every inch of her, same dark hair, but it’s shorter falling a inch of two below her shoulders instead of down her back how I last saw it and it’s straight instead of wavy, same pink pouty lips. But the satisfied grin that usually rests on them is replaced with a timid half smile. She has on an oversized jacket, a black top, and loose jeans with old tennis shoes that look too big for her feet. My girl wouldn’t be caught dead in this shit.

  “That’s all you have to say to me?” I ask, trying to hold on to the last piece of restraint I have.

  “Sorry I got so drunk, I had the worst fucking day,” Blue answers and I shake my head. I wasn’t talking to him but they both seem to think so.

  Am I crazy?

  “Babe, are you okay?” I look back at Theresa, who’s giving me her best come fuck me look. I have no idea in hell why she’s called me babe. We had sex TWO maybe THREE times and then she started showing up at my apartment and I had to shut that shit down fast. There’s only one girl who broke who my heart into a thousand damned pieces that I wanted to wake up to knocking on my door, that I prayed for to show up in the middle of the night. And she’s standing in front of me like she doesn’t have a fucking clue who I am.

  “Don’t call me that, Theresa,” I say, sounding colder than I mean too.

  “Oh I’m sorry, excuse me I didn’t mean to disrespect your little girlfriend here,” she shouts at me angrily.

  “Look, I’m not his girlfriend! I’m just trying to get my friend to bed,” Alana says pleadingly and I feel like someone stabbed me in the chest. No, no this can’t be the girl I knew. This isn’t my girl. My girl is all fire, like a whirlwind. If she saw me now there is no way she would just stand there, she wouldn’t let Theresa refer to her as my little girlfriend. I’ve got to figure it out. My heart is pounding. I take my phone out and while she’s distracted trying to help Blue, I snap a picture.

  “Oh I get it. Fine everyone get the fuck out then. Now!” Theresa screeches. She’s spewing profanity and Alana looks like she’s going to melt into a puddle and die.

  “You won’t even look at me!” she shrieks. I send the photo off to Devin.

  “I don’t know what your problem is but I don’t have time for it right now,” I tell her coldly. My attention has much bigger things to be on.

  “Mal calm down,” Tim, the other bartender, says as he’s coming out from the back.

  “Can we please go?” Alana—or Alana’s lookalike—pleads quietly. I stare at her a few seconds and shake the thoughts from my mind. I grab Blue by the arm and hoist him up and we all make our way out of the bar.

  “Wash away my sins!!!” Blue sings once we’re outside. It’s started to rain and he’s grinning like a crazy person. I glance over at Alana and she giggles and my stomach knots. That’s Alana’s laugh, sort of.

  I open the door and practically drag Blue’s ass up the stairs. I hate that he’s drunk. I need to know how the hell he knows her. We finally make it to my apartment door and I open it up and let them in. I help Blue over to the couch and he falls onto it.

  “Don’t throw up on my shit dude,” I tell him and he only grunts, slightly lifting his head up.

  “His things are in the car.” Every time she speaks my stomach does a flip. I turn on the lamp and it illuminates the room. She crosses her arms over her stomach like she’s protecting herself. Her eyes are strictly on Blue.

  “He found out his girlfriend was cheating on him tonight. Well actually, we saw them,” she explains, her eyes glued to the floor.

  Look at me ALANA!

  I scream in my head. As if she heard me, her eyes slowly meet mine before they lock on my chest.

  “So you’re not his girlfriend?” I ask again to make sure I heard her right. She looks confused.

  “No, we’re just friends,” and I think back to him on the phone announcing he was at my house and staying for a few days with some girl. I never thought it was THE girl, or a fucking doppelganger.

  “Uhm can I use your bathroom?” she asks casually. I nod slowly trying to figure out what the hell is going on. When I hear the door shut I run over to Blue and shake him.

  “Hey, hey! Where the hell did you meet her? Why are you calling her Megan?” I say, frantically shaking him.

  “That’s her name, leave me alone fucktard I need to sleep,” he slurs, pushing me back.

  “How’d you meet her!” I whisper loudly and he groans and attempts to push me back again.

  “Tell me and I’ll let you go to sleep,” I demand.

  “She’s Katie’s brother’s girlfriend,” he growls before grabbing one of my couch cushions and putting it over his head.

  “I vaguely recall the girl’s name he was into being Katie but what makes my stomach crawl is that he said she is some dude’s girlfriend. My lips are pressed so firmly together they hurt. I squint away the tears in my eyes. I head into my bedroom and slam the door.

  I know I’ve got to get it together. Maybe I’ve finally lost it, maybe this isn’t her, but no…it has to be her. There is no way she could see me after everything and pretend she doesn’t know me. She’s not a damned actress, and she wouldn’t come here to where I live and pull this shit. I crash my butt on the bed and try to think. It could be her sister. Alana grew up in foster care and had no clue who the rest of her family was. It’s possible, but what are the chances that her twin sister would end up here? If she is her sister she probably thinks I’m nuts, but then why would she look at me like that when I first saw her? She knew me, who I was. Or did I imagine it?

  I’m so fucking high!

  I get a bottle of water and start to down it hoping to clear my head. If this is her though, and she’s fucking with me, coming here pretending she doesn’t know me and making me lose my mind again, I’ll kill her. She has no idea what I went through when she left. I head back into the living room.

  “Thank you for letting us crash here.” Her voice isn’t how it is normally; it’s a tad deeper, her words more pronounced. Her eyes avoid mine purposely and they should, if it’s her. Her gaze darts around the apartment, taking everything in.

  “You have a nice place,” she says, clearing her throat.

  “Do you have any sisters?” I ask her and she looks taken aback.

  “Uhm...yeah, actually. Two,” she says nervously.

  “What’s their names?” I ask her, hearing the desperation in my voice.

  “I’m sorry but is there a reason that you’re asking?” Her voice breaks as she rubs the back of her neck. My eyes go to her fingernails. They’re short and a light pink. Alana always wore her nails long and pointed. They would rip my back to shreds every night. I swallow the lump in my throat. “You look like someone I used to know,” I tell her, my eyes completely focused on hers, and they twinkle at me.

  “I’ve gotten that a lot today,” she says with a quiet sigh.

  “What are your sisters’ names? Do you have a twin?” I ask her, standing up from my seat and walking towards her. I notice her consciously taking steps away from me.

  “No…Is there a reason you keep asking me this?” she says bewildered, and I realize if this really isn’t Alana I’m freaking this innocent girl out. I take a deep breath and try not to explode. Around Alana that’s never been easy, but I don’t really know if it’s her yet. Everything in me is telling me this is her but…there�
��s something off and my senses being impaired isn’t helping.

  “Can I show you something?” I ask her, and she barely nods. I get out my phone and pull up the picture I kept saved of us. The only one I didn’t delete after I tried to erase her from my memory, after she left me with a fucking Dear John letter telling me to let her go, like I could just forget the person I expected to wake up to every day for the rest of my life, pretend she never existed. I look at the picture one more time and back at the girl standing in front of me. The resemblance isn’t beyond striking—it’s exact. I hold out the phone to her. She looks at me curiously before taking it and when her eyes find the picture her breath hitches. She looks at me, confusion filling her face.

  “How did you get this?” her voice disappears beneath her breath. My heart is fighting its way out of my chest. I don’t know what to think. Her eyes reveal fear, confusion, and panic…things I’ve never seen in her before.

  “I took it. I’m a photographer.” My voice is shaking like an earthquake. It’s a stupid thing to say. It’s a selfie photo of us, something a first-grader could have taken…but I consider it one of the greatest works I’ve ever done.

  I’m nervous, or more afraid, because I’m starting to think this might not be her. The woman I hoped she was. Her hands are trembling, no—her whole body is. I reach out to steady her and she jumps back from me as if I have the plague. My phone crashes to the floor.

  “I’m so sorry,” she apologizes as we both scramble to get it. Her dark hair is covering her face. Her cheeks have changed tint, a blush of color traveling down her face to her neck. I fight the images of my lips being there, trailing down her stomach and breast. I pick up the phone and stand, running my hand over my face.

  “I should go. I can’t stay here,” she says shakily, taking small steps away from me. I reach for her arm and she doesn’t snatch it away but looks at me, as if I’m a math problem, difficult and complex, her eyes full of fear and vulnerability.

  “I—don’t know what to say.” Her voice is just above a whisper, and my chest is tight, and I fight stinging water in my eyes waiting for her confession, for her to admit all of this is a lie. That she left me.

  “I lied to you earlier,” she says, her head falling to the ground. My face hardens. Anger starting to swirl within me.

  “Not lied, wrong word. But…truthfully, I just found out about my family today. That’s why I’m here actually…” She trails off, cupping the back of her neck.

  “I-I grew up in foster care.” I stop breathing.

  “I don’t remember anything about my family.” She motions to Blue. “Blue found out some things that led me to Chicago. My brother lives here…I hope he’s my brother, at least.” She’s talking so fast her words crash together.

  “I guess it’s possible that I have a twin sister.” She shrugs, confusion all over her face. My heart sinks. I nod. It would make sense. She looks like Alana, but there’s something so different about her. I swallow hard and step back from her.

  “Small world huh?” It’s all I can muster and it comes out clipped and hard. She puts a hand on her hip.

  “I have no idea why the girl in that picture with you looks like me.” Her head is bobbing from side to side, her breathing going faster and faster. My phone rings. I hit ignore.

  “You…was she, your…girlfriend?” Her words are cautious. I pull out my phone and read the text from Devin.

  You found her?!

  That’s all the confirmation I need. My jaw tightens. My eyes meet hers and I see them widen in fear.

  She should definitely be scared.

  “She’s my wife.” My voice lowers.

  You see, Alana, I don’t know what twisted fucking game you’re playing but your name’s not Megan. It’s Alana. And this game you’re playing is over. You mentally broke me, my heart, and everything in between. And now I’m going to break you…

  The sequel to HER releases on October 22nd

  If you’ve made it this far thank you SO SO much for reading.!If this is your first book by me check out my other books in the list below. I’d love to stay in touch! On Facebook? Join my reader group here! I have given away tons of stuff and you get the latest info on releases. Prefer Instagram? Follow me here.

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  Until next time, xoxoxo.

  Portia.

  Firsts

  Book One’s

  portia moore

  Also by portia moore

  The If I Break Series

  Before Him

  If I Break

  Before I Break

  Almost Broken

  Beautifully Broken

  Shattered Pieces

  Time Duet

  What Happens After

  The Trouble with Before

  Stand Alones

  He Lived Next Door