The Spare - Part One (The Kings & Queens of St Augustus Book 1)

by Gemma Weir

  With my back resting against the wall and a cigarette perched between my lips, I stare at the door to the darkroom. Does anyone other than her ever use it? Is she meeting someone in there?

  A wry smile spreads across my lips. Is the perfect little heiress using the darkroom as a place to ride some unapproved cock? As I hold back a snicker of amusement, the door cracks open a slither. My body tenses and straightens as I sway forward an inch wanting to see who’s in there, who she’s meeting.

  The door creeps open another inch and I strain my eyes, not breathing as I try to identify the person who’s trying so hard not to be seen. If feels like months before the door moves again and when it does, the cigarette falls from my lips.

  “How the fuck?” I whisper as Carrigan emerges from the room.

  How is it possible that she got here before me? She was with the nurse when I left and there’s no way she could have gotten into that fucking room without passing me. As I watch transfixed, she scans the hallway, then scurries out of the doorway, closing and locking the door behind her, sliding the key inside her blazer.

  Something about her is off. She’s not strutting the way she normally does. No, she looks nervous. I’ve known Carrigan Archibald for over three years and apart from Friday night at my house and today, I’ve never seen her look anything less than calm and confident. In fact, most of the time she has this aura of smug superiority that annoys the crap out of me.

  Hidden in my spot against the wall, she has no idea that I’m here and as I watch, she pulls in a deep breath, scans the hallway again, then reaches for the straps of her backpack and hoists it up higher on her shoulders. Her body curls forward as she lowers her head and moves, gaze on the ground, her familiar blonde hair shielding her face so that at first glance you would have no idea it was even her.

  She is going to kill me. They’re all going to kill me for my moment of rebellion. The feeling of freedom and excitement has faded and now all that’s left is the reality; that I ignored her and now they’re going to kill me.

  Keeping my gaze firmly fixed on the floor, I rush along the hallway until I reach the imposing double doors that lead into St Augustus’ impressive library. Pushing into the expansive space, I make my way straight for the private study room I have my detentions in. Right now, I should be in class—either mine or Carrigan’s—but I’m not and the reality of that is starting to dawn on me.

  If she has a test and fails it, which she would, because honestly, I don’t think she even studies for half of her classes anymore, then her grade point average will fall and all of this will be over. This charade we’ve been playing for the last three-and-a-half-years will be over and it will all be my fault.

  A thrill rushes through me at that thought, because my actions today could end all of this. They could change my family’s entire future. A giggle bursts from my throat and I lift my hand to cover the slightly manic sound.

  Wouldn’t it be painfully bittersweet if the reason my sister didn’t get her money is because I ignored her text message. What would my parents do? What would my sister do if her life wasn’t solely directed by our great grandfather’s wishes? Who would she be if she wasn’t being forced to play by his rules?

  A strange peace settles over me as I imagine my sister becoming a better person. Could this be a turning point?

  Exhaling slowly, I lower myself into the chair and drop my backpack to the floor at my feet. There’s another twenty minutes until the end of the period and it’s better to hide out in here than risk being found wandering the corridors, so I pull out the worn paperback from my bag, opening it at the bookmark and start to read.

  When the bell rings, I slide my bookmark into the new page and place the book back in my bag. My cell is still turned off in my backpack, where I plan to leave it. Whatever the damage my act of defiance has done, it’s too late to change it now, so fuck it. Call this payback for her going AWOL on Friday night.

  Pulling my bag onto my back, I make my way to the library doors and wait until the hallway is almost empty before I emerge and make my way to my next class. By the time the last bell rings, all of my bravado has evaporated and I’m brimming with nerves at having to go home and face my sister and parents’ wrath. Amazingly, this is the first time in years that I’ve ignored them. When I’ve even considered it in the past, I’ve always been hit with so much guilt that I’ve just done what I was asked, rather than feel like I was letting them down.

  Like always, I hang back as the rest of the students rush from the classroom, eager to get home. Just like when we arrive, Carrigan likes to make sure she makes a grand exit, so Greg arrives to pick her up at the steps, then takes her home and circles back for me thirty minutes later.

  Some days I waste the time in the library, others I hide amongst the seats in the sports stadium. Today I need to be outside, so I quickly move to the doors that lead out of the main building and follow the path that will take me to the bleachers.

  St Augustus isn’t really recognized as an outstanding sports facility, but we do have an impressive lacrosse team who compete and win a lot. The team practice most days, but I doubt they’ve ever seen me sitting at the far side of the stadium.

  Climbing the steps, I stop about halfway up the bleachers. I walk a third of the way along the row and shrug my bag from my shoulders, placing it on the floor before I push down the folding seats on several of the chairs and lay down across them.

  Staring straight up at the sky above me, I let the soft white wispy clouds soothe me into a temporary calm. The cooling air that warns fall is on its way makes goose bumps prickle across my skin, but I ignore it, wrapping my arms across my chest and watching as the clouds form pictures in the sky.

  When I hear the familiar shouts of the coaches calling for the players to take a break, I know it’s time to go. Usually I have an alarm set on my cell, but as it’s still turned off, I’m relying on the fact that the practices run on the same schedule every day.

  Sitting up, I exhale slowly. I don’t want to go home. People who live normal lives, with normal families, with normal jobs assume that it must be great to be rich; to never worry about paying bills or affording the things they want, and it is. But no one considers that having money comes with its own set of issues.

  I know I must sound like the poor little rich girl, but some days I wish all our money would just be gone, that we were forced to be just average. God knows, since my great grandfather died, I’ve wished a million times that he’d never brought this curse down on my sister.

  Reaching for my backpack, I slowly make my way back down the bleachers and toward the front of the school. When I spot our town car idling at the curb, I falter, and genuinely consider just walking away. It was only a couple of days ago that Greg was offering to help me run away from my life, my family. I could take him up on his offer, get as much money as I can from my credit cards and just start over somewhere new. I could reinvent myself, choose a new name and then not be ashamed or worried to tell people what it was.

  A bitter scoff falls from my lips. It’s pathetic that part of my fantasy for my new life would be being able to tell people my name. I haven’t introduced myself to a single person in over three years. Three years. How is that even possible? How have I gone for literally years without ever having to tell anyone who I actually am?

  “My name is Tallulah Archibald,” I whisper to the air around me. “I am Tallulah Archibald,” I say a little louder.

  “I’m Tallulah-fucking-Archibald and I’m sick of no one knowing I fucking exist,” I shout, as a tear I didn’t even know I had formed rolls slowly down my cheek.

  “Hello, Tallulah.” A deep male voice behind me says and I spin around so quickly my eyes dance, wide and horrified that someone heard me.

  My chest lurches up and down as I stare into the face of Arlo Lexington, my sister’s soon to be fiancé.

  “Err,” I say, unsure what the hell I should do. Should I laugh off what he overheard, or perhaps just pretend I di
dn’t just scream my name out loud because I’m pissed and I assumed no one was around to overhear me?

  His smile is chilling, and I swallow as a shiver of fear pulses through me.

  “Tallulah,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue as his eyes rake over me, taking me in from my head to my feet. “Identical,” he murmurs, so low that I know he’s saying it to himself rather than me. “How?” He asks.

  I open my mouth to lie, to laugh and tell him I’m Carrigan and I’m practicing for an acting lesson, or anything that would justify what he just overheard. But before I can say a word his eyes harden and narrow and he moves forward so quickly I don’t have time to think before he’s in my space, his fingers wrapped around my chin as his other arm wraps around my back, holding me in place.

  “Whatever lie you were just about to tell me… don’t. I know Carrigan; the way she moves, the way she acts, and you don’t move like that, you don’t act like that. So, no fucking bullshit, who the hell are you, Tallulah?”

  “Her twin,” I whisper, the truth rolling off my tongue before I can stop it.

  His eyes widen and his full lips part. “Twins,” he says on a gasp, then he laughs, the sound low and bitter. “Twins, how the fuck? What?”

  “Identical twins,” I say, my voice no more than a whisper.

  “Miss Archibald.”

  I recognize Greg’s voice and instinctively move to turn toward the sound, but Arlo’s grip on me tightens, stopping me. “I’ll just be a minute, Greg,” I call, my gaze locking with Arlo’s again.

  “Tell him you’re going to get a ride with me,” Arlo hisses.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you fucking can and you will. I want answers, Tallulah, and I’m not letting you go until I do. So you either come with me, or I come with you. Your choice.” Arlo snarls.

  I consider his demand for a long second. I could go with him, but I have no idea what I would say. Where or how I would even start to explain all of this. “You can come with me,” I blurt and I can see the shock in his expression. He wasn’t expecting me to say that. Hell, I wasn’t expecting to say that either, but this isn’t my problem, it’s Carrigan’s and my parents’. Arlo is their first choice, so they can be the ones to explain all of this madness away and I’ll do what I always do, I’ll step away from the spotlight, because none of this is about me, it’s about my sister anyway.

  I turn to move, but his grip on me holds me in place as his eyes stay locked with mine, searching for something from me. I’m not sure if he finds his answer, but his hold on me loosens and I move away, stepping toward the open car door.

  When I look at Greg, I find his hands clenched into fists at his side and he looks at me warily. I try to offer him a reassuring smile as I reach the door, placing my hand on his arm and squeezing lightly. “Arlo’s going to be joining us,” I say quietly, hoping that my voice doesn’t quiver, then I slide into the car.

  I don’t speak to Arlo on the journey back to my house and he doesn’t ask me any questions. It’s as if he’s sensed that I wouldn’t answer them anyway and is resigned to waiting. When we pull into our driveway my heartbeat speeds up and nausea pools in my stomach.

  Both of my parents’ cars are in the driveway and I swallow down the fear that is building quickly. By now they’ll know that I ignored Carrigan and didn’t take her place in class. That on its own would make them furious, but they are going to lose their minds when they find out that I accidently outed myself to Arlo Lexington. He knows I exist; he knows there are two of us, and I think he knows it wasn’t my sister who had dinner at his house the other night.

  When the car comes to a stop and Greg kills the engine and opens his door, I can feel my entire body shaking.

  “Why are you shaking?” Arlo asks. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Ignoring him, I keep my eyes fixed on our front door through the car window, feeling like I can feel my parents’ eyes boring into me even from this distance.

  “Tallulah, fucking answer me,” Arlo growls, grabbing my arm roughly and demanding my attention.

  “I don’t have answers for you,” I say, my voice so quiet I can barely hear myself. My car door opens and Greg’s worry-filled eyes find mine. “Miss Archibald, Mr. Lexington,” he says.

  “Thank you,” I say, pulling my arm from Arlo’s hold and sliding out of the car. Arlo immediately follows me, and I hear the car door close behind him as I pull in a deep breath and stride purposefully to the front door.

  It swings open and Mrs. Humphries greets me, her normally tight smile barely perceptible and giving way to slack-jawed shock when she sees who’s with me. “Miss.” She stops herself before Tallulah falls from her lips. “Miss Archibald, welcome home. I didn’t realize we were expecting company. “Mr. Lexington,” she says smoothly, nodding her head once at Arlo, before turning her attention back to me. “Your parents,” she starts.

  I hear the stomping of heels along the marble floors before I spot my mother marching toward me. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” she hisses as she appears in the hallway, her lips pursed in an angry snarl.

  Almost skidding to a stop, she takes in me and then Arlo who is now standing at my side and the snarl evaporates from her lips and morphs into a glorious smile. “Carrigan, darling, you didn’t tell me you were bringing Arlo home with you. What a wonderful surprise,” she coos, sounding every bit the loving mother.

  Gliding straight over to Arlo, she leans in and peppers a kiss against his cheek, her hand pressed lightly against his chest. “Arlo, it’s so lovely to see you again. Carrigan is such a tease for not telling me you were coming.”

  I try not to look, I really do, but I can’t help tilting my head slightly so I can see the expression on Arlo’s face. For a moment, I wonder if he’ll just forget what I told him about me, about there being two of us, especially with how effortlessly my mother just called me by my sister’s name.

  “Well, I’m sure if Carrigan knew I was here she would have told you, but as I’m not with her, I’m with Tallulah, that’s probably why you weren’t expecting me,” Arlo says so sweetly that I flinch with something close to sympathy for my mom.

  Impressively, my mom doesn’t even show a glimmer of recognition at my name, or at the fact that Arlo clearly knows that I’m not my sister. Instead, she throws back her head and laughs. “Arlo, oh my goodness, what a joke. Who on earth is Tallulah?” Then she turns to me and smiles a smile that’s full of amusement. “Carrigan, what kind of games are you playing with poor Arlo?”

  Arlo’s expression falters for a second, right up until the moment my sister yells from the top of the stairs. “Is she back? Has she explained why she would be such a selfish little bitch?”

  Mom exhales a sharp breath and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, she looks at me and shakes her head as if this mess, this subterfuge, is all my fault. “Carrigan, come down here please. Arlo’s here to see you.”

  A bark of laughter bursts from my lips as Carrigan saunters down the stairs, all arrogant confidence and grace, so different from the aura that’s emanating from the girl at my side. I take a second to stare at her as she approaches, then look down to Tallulah. They’re absolutely identical. Same height, same face, same body, even down to the same hair style and makeup. The only difference between them is their body language, which is the polar opposite from each other.

  “Carrigan,” I say in greeting when she sees me standing next to her twin.

  Her lips part, but before she can say anything I interrupt. “So, you have a twin, an identical twin?”

  “Perhaps we should go to the sitting room. It’s a little more civilized than out here in the foyer,” Mrs. Archibald purrs, all familiar cordiality.

  Carrigan strides straight up to me, pushing between me and her sister as she slides her arm through mine and pulls me along beside her. For a few steps I let her guide me, until I realize that Tallulah isn’t following us, in fact she’s walking in the other direction towards t
he stairs. “Tallulah,” I call.

  Her feet stop moving, but she doesn’t turn to look at me.

  “Don’t worry about her, she doesn’t need to be involved,” Mrs. Archibald says dismissively, like her other daughter is a nonentity that can be completely ignored.

  “The hell she doesn’t,” I snarl. “I want her in there with us, while you explain what the hell is going on and why I had no idea that you have two children.”

  Mrs. Archibald sighs, like I’m being an irritating child. “Fine. Tallulah.”

  “I’ll just get changed out of my uniform.” Tallulah says, her voice quiet and meek.

  “If you’re not back down here in five minutes, I’m going to come looking for you,” I snap, annoyed that she’s leaving and honestly not convinced that I’ll ever see her again if I let her go.

  Carrigan tuts in annoyance, then doubles her efforts to move me out of the hallway and into the sitting room, but my eyes are snagged on Tallulah as she silently darts away. When she’s out of view, I extricate myself from Carrigan’s touch and stride forward into the sitting room, lowering myself into a chair facing the door.

  I’m amazed that neither Carrigan nor Mrs. Archibald look even remotely flustered about the fact that I just found out there’s another Archibald daughter that no one knows about. The more I think about it, the more shocked I am that I didn’t know. Tallulah was at school today and so was Carrigan. I’m fairly certain that Carrigan was in chemistry and that she was the one I walked to the nurse’s office, so why was Tallulah there? Is she a student too? If she is, how the hell did I not realize there was two of them? Does everyone else know and I’m the only one in the dark?