He has pictures of them both together. Them stood on top of Hampstead Heath in London, overlooking the city. Them by Buckingham Palace, doing the tourist thing. Him in his football uniform, grinning after a game with his arm wrapped around her as they both smile at the camera. They look proud of each other. They look happy. That picture tugs at something inside me. There are more recent pictures of me and her too, ones I had no idea she’d sent to him. I had no idea he’d seen us wearing matching overalls as we painted my bedroom, pizza boxes and coke bottles in the background. A tear falls as I remember that day, how much fun we had blasting music and singing along as we painted my bedroom a pale yellow because I’d decided on a whim that I needed a change.
I swipe away the tear as a light catches my eyes in the dark room. His iPad is on charge and I walk over to it without thinking. I swipe my finger, not really expecting to be able to get into it. When it asks for his passcode, I gingerly type in our birthday, thinking that might be it, but when it says that’s incorrect, I type in our mum’s and the screen unlocks, leaving his iPad open to me.
I don’t even know what I’m doing. It’s a huge invasion of privacy, but for the first time in a long time, I feel like I want to know my brother, like I want to see past the façade he puts on. I scroll to his messages and see hundreds and hundreds of them. Messages from Evie, suggestive and desperate, begging for another chance. Messages from Finn, joking and silly. Messages from his friends arranging to meet up in the evenings and sending stupid memes and such. Then I see my name and I scroll through our messages, unease settling through me as I see how many he’s sent that have gone unanswered. Message after message of him asking where I am, asking if I’m okay, if I want to grab some food, what my plans are and if I want to hang out—and they all get no response. When I scroll even further back and see his messages just after Mum died, I flush with shame. I gave him simple, one-word answers and the barest of details. My mum would be ashamed of me for my behaviour during that time. She’d be right to be.
I flick through a couple of messages from my dad, and it confirms that he has as little time for Ethan as he has for me. They’re short, to the point, without a hint of warmth. My father could be talking to anyone in these messages; you wouldn’t know he was talking to his son.
I’m about to turn away when a name stops me, when a name stops me and, without even realising it, I’ve scrolled so far back that I’ve come to messages from my mum. My fingers shake as I tap her name and the messages between them load. Tears start to flow freely down my face as I see their conversations in those last couple of weeks. He tells her he loves her, but from looking at their other messages, that’s not unusual; he tells her that when signing off every message. He tells her she’s going to beat this, she’s going to get better, she’s strong. He tells her at least every other day that he’s coming home, that he needs to see her, but it’s always her who says no, who tells him to stay in the US. She tells him she wants to watch him play and he can come home after that. She assures him that she loves him and is proud of him, but what she doesn’t tell him is just how sick she is. She doesn’t explain how her strength is deserting her and her body is failing to function. She just tells him she’s fine and she loves him, and a sob escapes my throat because he didn’t know. He didn’t have a clue just how bad she was, and it should have been me who told him, me who told him how important it was for him to come home, but I was so wrapped up in myself, so lost in my own grief that I didn’t even think he might not know, and I didn’t think to call him until it was too late.
It takes a minute for me to pull myself together, but I don’t turn away from his iPad. Instead I scroll back through their old messages, and I see hundreds between the two of them, stupid little tidbits about their days. Ethan telling Mum a grade he got in school, her telling him what she’s cooking for dinner and him asking about me. Him always asking how Biz is. There are video messages between them, too. Ethan filming himself whilst he’s out on a run, telling her what he’s got planned for the day. Him showing her his homework and asking if she gets it. Him walking down the corridors at school, holding out his phone so his friends are on screen and saying hi to my mum too. Him playing a prank on Matty in the locker rooms. Him tripping Finn as he walks down the corridor.
A vague memory comes back to me of Finn saying how they felt like they knew my mum too. This is how they knew her. Even though she was on the other side of the world, she was still very much part of his life. Mum always responds. Her smile is bright in the videos she sends to him, her walking down the street, her showing him what food she’s cooked up, her sending pictures of the London skyline, and her sending him videos of me—videos I never knew he would see. Me singing along out of tune to the radio whilst I butter my toast in the morning. Me holding out my arm to shield my face from the camera. All sorts of silly videos of me laughing and not knowing Ethan would see it.
And that’s when I start to cry. I start to cry because I was so completely, unequivocally wrong. Ethan didn’t forget about us whilst he was over here. Ethan was very much in my mum’s life, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he adored her, that he loved her more than anything and her death devastated him. And I’m the bitch who’s been giving him hell for the last year.
I finally step away from the iPad and head back to my room. I turn the shower on, strip off, and then step inside. I manage to stay standing for all of two seconds before I crumple to the floor, wrap my arms around my legs, and start to sob. I sob because of it all, because of my mother and the woman she was and the person I’ve lost and for Ethan, for the brother he has always been but I was too blind to notice.
I got it all wrong.
After what seems like an age has passed, I climb out of the shower and pull on my dressing gown. I need to do something, need to talk to Ethan, to actually talk to him about real stuff like what’s gone down between us, not just polite small talk by the fridge in the morning.
I need to make this right.
I exit my bathroom with a renewed sense of purpose, quickly drying my hair and dressing. I go to the living room and switch the TV on, flipping between channels, thinking I can distract myself until he gets home. After thirty minutes, I realise what a dumb idea that is because he could be out all night. Instead I decide to just call him so I race back up to my room, grab my phone, and notice I have 14 missed calls from Finn, Matty, and a number I don’t recognise. I also have eleven new messages, all in the space of time since I got off the phone to Kristen.
I glance up in confusion, uncertainty racking my body as another message from Finn comes through and I click to open it.
My whole body turns cold.
Finn: Where are you? You need to get here now. There’s been an accident. It’s bad, really bad.
I drive like a woman possessed to get to the hospital, skipping red lights and breaking the speed limit, but now that I’m here parked up under a streetlight in the hospital car park, I can’t move. I can’t move because I can’t go in there and face what they might tell me. I can’t lose someone else. I can’t. I won’t survive it.
I try once again to open the car door, my hand shaking so badly it doesn’t make it anywhere near the handle, and I give up, dropping it back down onto my lap. I can’t do it, can’t go in there. That feeling of complete helplessness I felt when my mum was dying has come back. My twin could be in there, fighting for his life, and there’s not a thing I can do about it.
The passenger side door opens and someone slides in next to me, but I don’t turn my head to look at who it is. I don’t have the energy right now to think about anything except how terrified I am that Ethan won’t make it.
“I saw you pull in here nearly twenty minutes ago.” Matty. It’s Matty who’s beside me. “I’ve been waiting for you to get out of the car.”
I shake my head. “I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t go in there.”
“You have to, Izzy. He needs you.”
I finally turn to face him. He’s
pale and his eyes are swollen like he’s been crying. “Have you seen him? Is he okay?”
Matty hesitates, and my whole body goes still.
“Matty?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“He hadn’t woken up by the time the ambulance arrived, and they took him straight into surgery. That was an hour or so ago. We haven’t heard anything since.”
Panic takes over and I gasp, sucking in air, trying to get oxygen into my lungs.
Matty reaches out and takes my hand. “He’s going to be okay, Izzy. I know it. Ethan’s strong. He’s a fighter.”
“Finn’s message…” I manage to stammer out. “He said it was bad.”
Matty stares at me for a moment and finally nods his head in agreement.
I don’t even know what happened, how he’s ended up here. “What happened?”
Matty blinks rapidly, trying to control his own tears. “We were at Bob’s and heading over to Davidson’s place for a party. Ethan wanted to run home to grab something so he left first. We followed around twenty minutes later and came across his truck. It had flipped over and the passenger side was caved in. I don’t know what caused it.”
I start to cry again, really sobbing, letting out gut-wrenching tears.
No. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening to Ethan.
Matty leans over, unbuckles my seatbelt, and hauls my body up against him, giving me a bone-crushing hug. I cling to him, not caring that my legs are getting pushed into the gear stick and my body is bent at an awkward angle. All I care about in this moment is getting some comfort. “I can’t lose him,” I choke out. “I can’t lose him too.”
Matty shushes me, smoothing his hand over my hair and rubbing my back. It doesn’t make me feel better. Nothing could make me feel better right now.
After another couple of minutes, he sets me back in my chair and reaches for his door, opening it. He looks back at me. “Come on, Izzy. We need to be in there.”
I’m in a complete daze as I walk through the hospital, blindly following Matty as he leads me to where I need to be. He pushes through a set of doors and I see what looks like the whole town is in the waiting room. News must have spread like wildfire about his accident. Every single seat is filled, kids standing along the walls, looking nervously at each other; teachers from school and his football coach, sat looking serious; and his football team, looking completely distraught. Finn’s family are there too. I spot his parents and a couple of his brothers stood to the side, talking in hushed voices as Marcus enters the room with a cup of coffee, and if I wasn’t so terrified right now, I might even think of how proud I am of Ethan that he can draw such a crowd and have so many people worried about him.
Everyone looks up as a collective when I walk in, and for one terrifying minute I think they know something I don’t, think they’ve heard something about Ethan, and it takes everything in me not to turn and run away.
Finn is in front of me in a second, pulling me into his arms and giving me a hug whilst everyone else looks on. I look into his eyes and take a deep breath. I know Finn will tell me the truth. He’s always been the one who will be honest with me. “Is he dead?”
“No,” he says sharply, adamantly. He grabs my shoulders and looks intently into my eyes. “No, he’s strong. He’s gonna get through this.”
I manage a small nod as he tugs me to his side and leads me over to the vacant seat he was sitting in. He turns and sinks down into it, pulling me onto his lap. I don’t even think to fight it or think about the fact that his family is in the room watching us. I slump back into his warmth and let his arms wrap around me, holding me close, rocking me back and forth as I try not to think about Ethan in a hospital bed.
“The doctors said they’d give us an update shortly,” he murmurs.
I nod my head.
“And my mom called your dad. He was in New York so he should be here soon.”
I hadn’t thought about my dad. It didn’t even occur to me to call him. It must be bad if my dad’s coming back.
“He’s going to be okay,” he tells me. “He’s going to be okay.”
I nod. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay. I repeat the words over and over again in my head, praying with every ounce of my soul that if I say it often enough then it will be true.
The next four hours pass in a daze. I don’t move. I stay planted in Finn’s lap with his arms wrapped around me whilst staring at the ground. I barely look up as people approach. No one really has anything to say; they just want to check in with me, let me know they’re here and hoping for the best for Ethan, but I don’t lift my head to meet their eyes. I can’t, because if I do that, I’m certain I’ll fall apart in front of them all.
I disappear into my own mind. I stop hearing what people are saying around me, don’t even listen to what Finn is saying. I can’t hear anything, and it’s only when a hush falls over the room and a silence settles that I snap out of my daze and look up.
A tall man wearing scrubs is standing in the doorway to the visitors room. He looks around. “Is his family here yet?”
Evie immediately jumps to her feet and rushes towards him. “No. His dad isn’t here. I’m his girlfriend. You can tell me.”
“What?” Matty snaps from his place next to Finn and me. “Sister doesn’t count as family?” he asks, his voice scathing.
The doctor looks around at that comment. “His sister is here?”
I can feel heads turn to me, and the doctor follows their eyeline. He takes a step towards me and then another as I shrink back against Finn, his face softening when his eyes find mine. I’m sure he can see exactly how terrified I am.
He stops in front of me and bends down so he’s on the same level as me.
“Are you Ethan’s sister?”
I nod, my whole body shaking. “I’m…I’m his twin.”
Sympathy crosses his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here or I would have sent someone out sooner.”
I don’t say anything to that. I just stare at this man in front of me, this doctor with pale brown eyes, laughter lines, and greying hair who has the power to destroy my world with his next words.
“Do you want to go somewhere and talk about Ethan?”
“Is he…” My voice cracks as I try to force the words out. “Is he… Is Ethan dead?”
It feels like the whole room holds its breath, but they don’t have to wait long as the doctor is determinedly shaking his head. “No. No, your brother is very much alive.”
My whole body sags, relief flooding me, and I feel like I breathe properly again for the first time in hours as sighs of relief echo around the room.
The doctor stands to face me. “Come on, let’s go somewhere quieter and I’ll explain about the surgery and what’s going to happen next. Your brother is still very sick.”
I stand slowly but don’t let go of Finn’s hand, my fingers tightly gripping his. I’m scared if I let go, I’ll stop functioning. I’ll stop being able to just about to hold it together. Finn feels like my lifeline right now. “Can Finn come?”
The doctor nods and looks around. “Is there an adult you want in there with you?”
“I’ll come in,” Sarah Sullivan says, and I’m so grateful she’s there as a symbol of support without me even having to ask.
“I’m coming too,” Evie insists from behind her, and when I glance her way, I don’t even think about objecting. Her hair is in a state like she’s been running her hands through it constantly, her eyes are swollen and red from crying, and her hands are shaking with nerves. She’s obviously terrified too.
“Okay,” I agree. I glance back at Matty and Logan sat in the seat next to Finn’s and nod at them. “You guys come too.”
The doctor clears his throat and I just know he’s about to object to me letting so many people come through, but I just shrug my shoulders. “They’re his best friends,” I tell him. “They’re like his family.” And it’s true. They’ve certainly
been better family to him than I have over the last couple of years, and I can see exactly how much it means to them as they stand and follow us out of the room.
Six hours later and I still haven’t slept at all.
All I’ve done all night is watch Ethan as he sleeps and watch the monitor and its steady rhythm. My dad appeared and immediately started demanding all sorts from the doctors, throwing around his money like that has anything to do with making Ethan better, and for once my grandmother (who showed up with him) gave him a stern talking to about his attitude and how this isn’t the time to shout and be demanding. To be honest, it’s actually been quite nice to see my dad like this. Not the douchey part—obviously—but the other part where he’s clearly terrified over Ethan and the only thing he can think to do is throw money about. It’s nice to see that he does care after all, that he’s not completely indifferent to us.
Now it’s just Finn, Matty, Logan, and me in Ethan’s room, waiting for him to wake up. The doctor explained that Ethan suffered an abdominal bowel perforation from the car crash but they’ve managed to repair the damage and he should have a relatively speedy recovery as long as he takes it easy. Evie’s mum came to take her home, but she’s adamant she’s only going for an hour or so and then is coming back.
I must have drifted off at some point because the next thing I know I’m getting shaken awake and there’s a chorus of noise around me.
I startle, immediately brought back to the here and now, and turn to see Ethan awake and looking over at me.
The relief is immediate. He’s awake. He’s going to be okay.
And then I start to cry.
Loud, heavy sobs that rack my whole body.
And I can’t make them stop.
I can’t make them stop because I nearly lost him.
Ethan looks alarmed and tries to move but winces in pain. “Biz,” he mutters, his voice dry. “Biz, don’t cry.”
Matty grabs the water jug one of the nurses left, pours some in a cup, and then holds it up to Ethan’s mouth so he can drink it. I try to pull myself together, wiping away my tears, trying to control my breathing and pulling my hair back from my face.
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