by Gemma Weir
My friends who are all sat at the table around us are morbidly silent, and even though I know she hasn’t spoken loud enough for anyone but us to hear, it feels like every person in the room has stopped speaking to listen.
“Carrie, dear,” I say in the most condescending voice I can muster, and loud enough that the tables closest to ours can hear. “Even if your twin sister wasn’t sitting in my lap, even if she hadn’t agreed to marry me this morning, even if you didn’t have a sister, I can promise you with every fiber in my body and every penny in my trust fund that I will never, and I mean never agree to marry you. So, I’m not embarrassing myself or my family or even your family. In fact, the only person who’s embarrassing themselves is you.”
Carrigan’s lips purse into a hard line and she blinks at me like a serpent assessing its prey. Her gaze moves from me to her sister and she smiles a chilling smile that makes me wrap my arm around the girl in my lap protectively.
“Apparently, congratulations are in order, sister, but I think you should check that ancient cell phone of yours. Mom wants to speak to you,” she says coldly, then she turns and struts away, her ass swaying provocatively with each step.
The moment Carrigan is back at her seat, Tallulah rips my arm from around her and jumps out of my lap and into the seat next to mine. I can see how badly her hands are trembling as she searches the floor around us for her backpack. “It’s in my locker,” I say.
“My cell phone is in there. This is only going to get worse if I don’t call her back. I’m so fucked, so fucking fucked,” she whispers, her voice shaky.
“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Olly says, having placed their food order and returned. He shocks me as he reaches out and lays his hand reassuringly on her arm.
The urge to punch him and fling his hand away from her comes out of nowhere, shocking me. What the hell? I don’t even know Tallulah, where the hell are these protective urges coming from?
“Arlo will fix this. He’ll explain it was just a joke that got taken a bit too far. It’ll be fine.” He assures her.
When she looks up at him, her eyes huge and full of hope, I have to force my fingers to unfurl from the fist I’ve clenched them into. My cell phone rings, at the same moment that the server arrives with the food, and a plateful of my favorite chicken with mushrooms in truffle oil is placed in front of me.
Nodding my thanks to the server, I pull my cell from my pocket and snarl when I see my dad’s name on the incoming caller I.D. I look pointedly to Wats and he nods, shuffling over to take my seat as I stand up and head to the exit doors, answering my phone as I go.
“Hi, Dad,” I say smiling.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” He demands, not even bothering to say hello before he’s shouting.
“There’s nothing wrong with me. In fact, today has been a pretty great day so far,” I answer churlishly.
“Don’t be a smartass, Arlo. I’ve had the Archibalds on the phone demanding to know what you’re playing at. They seem to think you’ve very publicly proposed to some girl on the front steps of the school.”
I can’t help the bitter laugh that falls from my lips. “Some girl,” I snap. “Jesus, that fucking family. Did you know that Carrigan was a twin?”
“A twin?” Dad asks, his voice annoyed. “What?”
“Yep. Carrigan has an identical twin sister. Her name is Tallulah, you’ve met her.”
“What are you talking about? I think I’d know if they had another daughter,” My dad hisses.
“Yeah, it was a surprise for me too, but they do. You met her last Friday night, because she pretended to be her sister and came to our house to dinner in her place. That girl I proposed to this morning was Tallulah, Carrigan’s twin sister.”
There’s silence on the other end of the call, until finally Dad speaks. “Arlo, this isn’t funny.”
“That’s because I’m not joking,” I say.
More silence follows. “And you’re in a relationship with, what did you say her name was?”
“Tallulah, Dad. Her name is Tallulah and…” I open my mouth to tell him the truth, to confess that this was all a joke, but instead I say. “Yes, we’re in a relationship.”
My dad’s exhale is slow and ragged. “So why didn’t I know about this? Was that what our chat last night was about?”
I take a minute before I speak. If I tell him we’re really engaged this won’t be a joke I can play off further down the line. But for some reason, I still say. “Yeah, I needed you to understand that I was never going to marry Carrigan. I just didn’t want to say it was because I was in love with her twin.”
“Where the hell have they been keeping another kid?” He mutters.
“In plain sight. She’s been at St Augustus the whole time. Only the Archibalds pretend she doesn’t exist. It’s so fucked up.”
“And you asked her to marry you?” Dad says slowly.
I can feel how wide my eyes are, but the words keep pouring from my mouth. “Yes, I asked her to marry me and she said yes. I was just waiting for the whole Carrigan thing to get cleared up before I asked her.”
My dad laughs and I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips. “Well, at least this way the Archibalds are still family,” he says, laughing again a little louder. “I’ll cancel my plans for the evening, then I’ll give Freddie a call and we’ll get a family dinner all set up for tonight to celebrate your engagement. Did you give her the Lexington diamond?”
“Not yet,” I hear myself say. I know I’m taking this too far, but I just can’t stop. I want to see the look on Mr. and Mrs. Archibald’s faces when I tell them I’m engaged to the daughter they hide away.
“Okay, well, I’ll go and get it from the safety deposit box this afternoon and you can give it to her tonight then,” Dad says, his voice back to his normal business-like tone.
“Sounds good,” I say. “See you later.”
“Bye, son.”
“Dad,” I call, planning to tell him the truth.
“Yeah?” he says.
“Olly, Watson, and Carson will want to be there too, they love Tallulah.”
“Sure, I’ll speak to their parents.”
“Okay, bye,” I say, ending the call and sliding my cell into my pocket, before I fall back against the wall with a thud. What the hell did I just do? I had so many opportunities to tell him this was all a lie, but I didn’t. So why didn’t I?
Honestly, I don’t know why. I don’t have any feelings for Tallulah. I don’t know her, but there’s something about her. I don’t know if it’s that she’s managed to stay hidden in plain sight for all these years, or if it’s just because she’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. But for some reason I couldn’t just deny it all.
I’m pretty sure I’ve just fucked us both over, but I don’t seem to be able to care. I’m not ready to let Tallulah become a ghost again, now I just need to convince her to play along.
The food the server delivers looks amazing, but I can’t eat when my stomach is twisted into this many knots.
“It’ll all be okay, I promise,” the curly-haired boy says.
“I’m sure you would say that,” I mutter, flopping back in my seat and sighing dramatically. “What’s your name?” I ask. “I think he introduced you earlier, but I’m sorry, I don’t remember it.”
He smiles and I notice the dimples that appear in his cheeks. “I’m Oliver Montgomery, but you can call me Olly.”
“Okay, well thank you, Olly, for the kind words, but as sweet as the thought is, you don’t really have any idea of how much shit I’m in because of you and your friend’s prank.”
The smile falls from his face and he tilts his head to the side. “I’ve never met an identical twin before,” he muses.
Pursing my lips, I arch my eyebrow at him, and he chuckles lightly. “All this time has everyone just been assuming you were Carrigan?” He asks, his voice sober and missing any trace of amusement.
“If you didn’t know any diff
erent, would you assume I was her?” I ask, my words skirting a little too close to the truth, but never actually admitting that we’ve encouraged the lie, that we’ve exacerbated the belief that she was an only child.
“I suppose I would,” he says, with a small grimace, “but then I had no idea Carrigan even had a sister.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“Yep, I have two older brothers and a younger sister,” he replies.
“And do all the other students here know who your siblings are?”
“I’d be surprised if they didn’t. Maybe not my oldest brother because he graduated five years ago and moved to Paris, but my other brother and sister, yeah, I imagine everyone here would either have met them or at least know who they are. St Augustus is a small school, Tallulah, and we’re all part of the same social circle, because our parents all do business together. So how is it we’ve never been at the same party, business dinner, cotillion, or some other event?” He asks, leaning into me slightly.
“She’s antisocial,” A voice says, and I twirl around to find Arlo standing behind me, his imposing body blocking the rest of the room from view.
The blond boy moves and Arlo slides into the empty seat at my side, handing me my backpack as he narrows his eyes and glares at his friend. “I wouldn’t worry about calling your mom. My dad’s going to speak to them.”
“Is he going to explain that this was all just a stupid joke?” I ask hopefully.
Arlo smiles and my stomach instantly drops to my feet. “No, he’s going to invite them for dinner tonight so we can all celebrate our engagement together.”
Laughter barks from Olly. “Dude,” he cries. “A family dinner might be taking this a bit far.”
“Taking what too far?” Arlo asks innocently. “All I’m doing is inviting my closest friends and my beautiful fiancée’s family to come together to celebrate us planning our future together.”
“What?” I cry, pushing out of my seat and standing on wobbly legs. “This is ridiculous. How the hell am I going to explain all of this nonsense.”
Before I even have a chance to blink, Arlo reaches out and yanks me into his lap again, his hand cupping my face so he can press his lips to my ear. “Calm down, sweet Tally. I’ll settle everything with your awful family. For now, I need you to play along for a little longer.”
Then he presses a trail of kisses down the lobe of my ear, to my neck, stunning me into silence with his gentle touch. A part of me knows I shouldn’t be letting him do this. I shouldn’t be going along with this farce or letting him touch me and kiss me the way he has, the way he is. But until he scooped me out of the car this morning and forced people to actually see me for the first time in years, I’d forgotten how good it is to just be me.
Since he shouted my name, my name, on the steps and started this dangerous game we’re playing, I hadn’t admitted how tired I was of being nothing but a spare. I know by tonight all of this will be over and I’ll be invisible again, but for now, I really want my own identity. I want to be Tallulah Archibald. I want to be seen, to be recognized, to be worthy.
So I don’t fight him when he reaches around me and cuts off a piece of my lunch, then holds up the fork for me to eat from. I don’t fight it when he touches me like we’re really in love, or when he walks me to my next class and kisses me in the doorway where everyone can see.
For the next few hours I enjoy hearing my name on peoples’ lips. I bask in the stares, looks, and whispers. It doesn’t matter that they don’t speak to me, that they’re no doubt being mean or gossiping about mine and Arlo’s stupid fake engagement. All that matters is that when they look at me, they see me and not my sister.
When the final bell rings, I’m almost a little sad for the school day to be over. I take my time packing away my belongings like normal, because even though everyone at school knows about me now, I still doubt Carrigan will want me to ride home with her.
I jump, startled, when Arlo suddenly appears in front of me. He grabs all my things and drops them into my backpack, then lifts it from the desk and drops it over his shoulder.
“Come on, sweet Tally, let’s go,” he says, reaching for my hand and entwining his fingers with mine.
I let him pull me out of the classroom, enjoying the way all eyes seem to turn to us as Arlo walks by my side, a wide smile etched across his beautiful face.
“My car won’t be here for another thirty minutes,” I say quietly.
“You’re riding with me,” he says simply, looking down at me and lifting his eyebrow in silent challenge.
“I need to let Greg know.”
“Who the fuck is Greg?” Arlo asks, whirling around to look at me.
“My driver,” I reply in confusion at his weird reaction.
“So text him, or better yet, tell him in person,” Arlo says, as he starts to run through the hallway, pulling me along behind him.
A giggle falls from my lips as we dash through the school; Arlo weaving us in and out of people until we burst into the bright sunlight. My smile and any hint of laughter dries up when I spot my sister chatting to a group of people at the curb.
“Hey, Carrigan,” Arlo shouts, so loud I doubt there’s anyone who didn’t hear.
Her head snaps up and she spins around to look at us, her lips pinching into an angry snarl when she spots me.
“Let your driver know that Tally’s riding with me, will you?” He calls, pulling me into his side and holding me tightly against him.
“Why can’t Tally,” she says, practically spitting the nickname Arlo has used a few times, “tell him herself?”
Trying to pull myself from his grip, I step forward when our town car rolls to a stop barely two feet from where Carrigan is stood, but Arlo tightens his hold on me, stopping me from moving.
“Don’t be a bitch, Carrigan. We’ll see you later, we’ve got an engagement to celebrate,” Arlo says, waving at her with a smirk as he turns us in the opposite direction, moving us to a shiny Range Rover parked at the front of the lot.
As we approach the car, it beeps, and Arlo releases me to step forward and open the passenger door, waiting for me to climb in before closing it behind me. While he circles the car, I take a minute to look at the inside, appreciating the novelty of being in the front seat, rather than the backseat of our family’s town cars.
My dad drives; but neither me, Carrigan, nor my mom have ever learned. The driver’s door opens and Arlo climbs in, smiling at me as he settles into the seat and presses a button on the dashboard. The car’s engine starts and a moment later we’re pulling out of the school and onto the street.
“Do you want a coffee? I’m going to pull through the drive-through coffee place.” Arlo says, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
“Err, yeah that would be great. I’m probably going to need it to deal with my family,” I say, instantly regretting my words.
“I find vodka works better for family drama,” Arlo quips, as he pulls into the drive-through lane and up to the window, turning to look at me. “What do you want?”
“Can I have a hazelnut latte macchiato please?”
“One hazelnut latte macchiato for the lady and a double shot Americano for me please,” Arlo says, handing over a bill and waving away the change when the server tries to give it to him. A moment later, the server returns with two to-go cups and hands them to Arlo, telling him which drink is which as he does.
“Here you go,” he says as he passes me my drink, guiding the car away from the coffee place with one hand as he lifts his cup to his lips with the other.
“Thank you,” I mutter, bringing my own cup to my lips and humming with appreciation as the sweet, creamy coffee touches my tongue.
We drive the rest of the way to my house in comfortable silence. I should be really mad at him for this weird position he’s put me in and for the inevitable argument that’s going to explode the moment I walk into my house, but I’m nowhere near as upset as I should be.
Maybe I’ve b
een overrun with apathy, or maybe I just don’t want to admit that I’ve enjoyed this little façade. I know there will be consequences for everything that’s happened here today, but I think that maybe the look on my sister’s face every time he’s told her we’re engaged might actually make it worthwhile.
I’ve always believed in karma, and maybe today was the universe’s payback for my sister using me. In a couple of days, Arlo’s escapades will have been forgotten, but I won’t forget. I’ll never forget that for a moment, even if it was a lie, I had something she wanted.
When we pull up outside my house, I wish that Arlo was a friend, then I could ask him to just drive away, to let me prolong dealing with the nightmare I know will be waiting on the other side of my front door. But we’re not friends, we’re not even acquaintances, so instead of asking, I dutifully unbuckle my seatbelt and reach for the door handle.
“Wait,” he says, bounding around the car and opening my door for me. He reaches in and offers me a hand. I take it, blushing, as I let him help me from the car. My backpack is slung over his shoulder again and I realize he must have grabbed it on his way to get the door.
Instead of handing me my bag, he shocks me when he reaches for my fingers and links them with his, like he did earlier. “Shall we?” He says with mock formality.
“Err,” I reply.
“Sweet Tally,” he says, smiling sweetly. “I don’t intend to just feed you to the wolves, then run off and leave you on your own.”
“Oh, I,” I stop, not really knowing what else to say. Obviously, he intends to come and explain the joke to my family. Then if this dinner actually does happen, they can all have a good laugh about it. It makes sense I suppose, and at least this way he can let them all know that I was as blindsided as Carrigan was about the entire thing.
He leads me by the hand to the front door and Mrs. Humphries swings it open, her eyes a little wide. “Miss Tallulah, Mr. Lexington.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Humphries,” I murmur, as Arlo walks into the house beside me.
“Mrs. Humphries, it’s lovely to see you again,” he says politely.
