All That's Been Said

by Doherty, Emma

  After a minute or two, I’ve calmed down enough to be able to face Ethan, who is looking at me in bewilderment.

  “What happened, man?” Logan asks him from his spot at the foot of the bed.

  “There was a deer I think. I swerved, hit a pothole, popped a tyre, and slammed into those lights. I must have been going too fast.”

  That sets me off all over again because something as simple as a hole in the road could have killed my brother.

  Finn clears his throat. “Let’s give them a couple of minutes,” he says to Matty and Logan, cocking his head towards the door.

  I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek as they all troop out. I need to pull myself together. Me being so emotional isn’t helping anyone.

  My eyes find Ethan’s, and I don’t know what to say. What can you say to someone you’ve treated appallingly for years because you felt he betrayed you, only to realise it’s because of your own messed-up issues and he never did actually forget about you?

  “Before you woke up, Finn said you’ve been here the whole time. He said you’ve not left my side.”

  It breaks my heart to think he’s surprised at this, like he didn’t think that would be a given.

  “I was so scared,” I whisper, more tears sliding down my face. “I was so, so scared, Ethan.”

  “I’m okay.”

  More and more tears slide down my face as the emotion pours out of me.

  I stand up from my seat and sit on the side of his bed, staring down at him. He winces back up at me, still groggy but clearly trying to figure out what’s going on. “I thought I’d lost you,” I tell him. “I thought you were going to die and I was gonna be alone.”

  “Biz—”

  “And I hated myself.” I need him to know this. “I hated myself so much because of the way I’ve treated you, and I thought you were going to die without knowing I love you.” A sob escapes my throat. “You’re my twin, Ethan, and I love you the most out of everyone in this world, and I thought you were going to die and leave me. I couldn’t handle it.”

  More and more tears slide down my face as I again think about how close I was to losing him.

  “I couldn’t handle it at all.”

  Tears spring to his eyes, and I reach down and grip his hand, squeezing it tightly.

  “I know I’ve been the biggest bitch to you and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I promise you I’m sorry.” I let out a sigh. “Please don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  He squeezes my hand back. “I know you love me, Biz. I know you were just coping with Mum dying.”

  “I’ve been so horrible to you. All that stuff I said to you about not answering your phone when she was dying was terrible. I should never have said that. It was so unfair.”

  He nods. I think blaming him for that is the worst thing I’ve ever done to him and that’s saying a lot.

  “But it should be me that feels guilty. I’m the one that missed the signs. I should have sent her straight to the doctor when I saw her getting sick. If she’d have got there sooner then maybe they could have done something.”

  He blinks in astonishment at me. “Biz…what? Hang on…wait. Tell me you don’t think you’re to blame for anything to do with mum’s death?”

  I can’t help the loud sob that escapes and echoes around the room.

  “No,” he winces as he tries to sit up, squeezing my hand tightly. “She had cancer. And it’s so shit and it’s so unfair that she’s gone but it’s no one’s fault. It was just one of those things and no one is to blame. Especially not you.”

  I let out a shaky breath. I’m so relieved that I’ve finally gotten it out. That I’ve finally told him about my guilt and it’s good to hear him say it’s not my fault, he’s the only one whose words can absolve my guilt. Hopefully one day I’ll believe them.

  “You know that right? Please tell me you haven’t been thinking that this whole time?”

  I shrug. “I’m so sorry for how I’ve been with you.”

  “It’s okay.” And I can tell he means it. “Grief is complicated.”

  “No, before that, when you moved over here. I shouldn’t have cut you out. I should have asked you why you chose here rather than just ignoring you.”

  He lets out a small smile. “And do you know why I did that now?”

  I shrug, using my sleeve to wipe away the tears on my face. “I don’t care.”

  “It’s because it’s pretty hard living in your shadow, you idiot. You’re so smart and I’m so proud of you, but it’s tough sometimes. It’s easier over here. I can focus on sports and not feel like I’m behind just because I can’t keep up with your brain.”

  I am such a fucking idiot. I should have asked. I should have asked why he chose here, but I never bothered.

  “Also, I want to talk about Mum with you. I want to remember her with you.”

  He catches his breath. “I’d really like that.”

  “You remind me of her—all the time. You’re so alike, and I should have told you before.” A tear leaks down his face, and it just sets me off again. “She’d be so, so proud of you.”

  A smile passes over his face, and I know that means a lot to him. I should have told him way sooner.

  “It hurts how much you remind me of her and that’s why I didn’t talk about her with you, but I realised tonight how much more it would hurt if I couldn’t ever talk to you about her.”

  “I really miss her.”

  “I know.” I swallow back a sob. “Me too.”

  My mind goes blank for a couple of minutes as memories of Mum flood my mind, but I manage to force out a smile because now I can make sure I talk to him about her. We can keep her memory alive together and make sure she’s never forgotten.

  “I’m so sorry, Ethan, about everything. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

  “I get it.”

  I shake my head. “There’s no excuse.”

  He smiles back at me. “I just want my twin back, okay? Do I get my annoying, short-tempered best friend back?”

  I nod my head and, despite the circumstances, despite where we are, I smile the widest smile I have in months, because he does. He gets his sister back, and it feels like everything is finally right in my world again, like something has finally slipped back into place.

  Then, because I can’t talk anymore, because I’m too overwhelmed with emotion, I manoeuvre my body and lay my head down next to him, just like we used to do when we were kids, curling into his side despite the narrow bed. I don’t leave his side, not when the doctors come in, not when my dad and grandparents return, not even when Logan jokes that I should probably go get a shower. I don’t leave his side until I’m convinced he’s not going anywhere and everything is going to be okay.

  I can’t believe how many people are at this game. Everywhere I turn there are crowds of people, and not just teenagers. There are parents, grandparents, little children, professional people in their twenties, and when I say this to Pippa, she just frowns like it’s a silly observation and reminds me that she told me way back when she took me on my first tour of the school that over five thousand people come to the games every week. She does tell me there are even more than usual here tonight.

  The atmosphere is electric, and people are holding up signs everywhere, Ethan’s name plastered all over them. That’s why they’re all here—it’s Ethan’s final game at Northview High. It’s taken two long months of recovery, of him being irritated as he fights to return to full health, of his frustration at not being allowed to train again due to the physical demands of the game. Truth be told, he probably shouldn’t even be playing tonight, but there’s no way anyone could have stopped him. I spoke to his coach myself, and they’ve assured me Ethan is just going to start the game and then get taken off, and that coupled with the fact that his doctors have given him the all-clear is the only reason I didn’t kick up a massive fuss. Ethan deserves his moment in front of the crowd. He finally picked a college and despite
his injury his scholarship still stands; the coaches have seen him in practice and trust that he just needs time to regain his full physical peak, and I have no doubt he’ll do it. They’ve taken a chance on him being as good next year as he was throughout the last couple of years, and I finally get it: Ethan is really talented.

  The cheerleaders finish their routine, flipping and twirling through the air as the marching band play their tune, and I’m mesmerised by the whole thing. I don’t engage in conversation with Pippa or Paul, don’t hear Rachel or anyone else. I don’t even concentrate on the detailed explanation Pippa is giving me about the game. She’s trying to help me so I have a basic understanding of what is going on, but I’m not even listening. I’m not listening because it finally makes sense to me. This is what Ethan loves. He loves the buzz and the adrenaline of a night like this, of having thousands and thousands of people cheer you on, and he knows this is his way to succeed in life, to get away from our father and to succeed on his own. I understand now why my mum was so proud of him, why when she came home from a visit she would be buzzing with stories about his games and how proud she was of him. I always dismissed it and dismissed him, but she was right. This is special, and I suddenly feel incredibly proud of my brother.

  The crowd around us is getting impatient. You can feel it in the air. They start chanting his name.

  “E-THAN! E-THAN! E-THAN!”

  Ethan is their star, their star wonderkid. He won them state, he’s one of them, and even though their shot at another state title is long gone, he has one last game in their beloved school colours and they want to show their appreciation for the guy who’s fought his way back from a hospital bed.

  Pippa nudges me and cocks her head to the end of the field where a huge paper sheet is being held up. The marching band start a drumroll and the crowd quietens as the announcer welcomes the team. They come running through the sheet and onto the field, and the crowd around me goes wild, everyone on their feet, stamping and cheering for the team. It’s honestly like nothing I’ve ever seen before and I’m fascinated.

  The players don’t immediately go to their positions as I’d expect. Instead they run towards the crowd in the stand, waving and returning their applause.

  “E-THAN! E-THAN! E-THAN!”

  It takes me a minute to spot him. He’s stood farther back with his helmet off, just taking in the moment, hearing everyone chant his name, a smile playing on his mouth. I find myself smiling too. I’m glad he’s getting this. I’m glad he’s getting his moment.

  The crowd are getting louder, more insistent, and Matty turns and grabs hold of Ethan’s arm, pulling him forwards, past the rest of the team. Everyone goes crazy, screaming and cheering for him, showing him just how much he means to them and how happy they are that he’s better and back on the field. Ethan looks embarrassed and turns back to his team, who are also applauding him. He shakes his head and then once again turns to the crowd, smiling up at them.

  But he’s doing something else too. His eyes are scanning the rows. Starting at the back, his eyes are quickly flitting over everyone, left to right, working his way from the top to the bottom.

  “He’s looking for you,” Pippa whispers, and she’s right. He’s searching the crowd, looking for someone, and I know it’s me. I didn’t tell him I was coming. I didn’t tell anyone, and he’s looking to see if his only real family has come to support him on his last game of high school.

  The referee blows his whistle and the players disperse, getting into their various starting positions. The crowd calms down a bit with the anticipation of things about to begin, and then it’s suddenly silent…everyone eagerly waiting. Ethan turns away and starts heading towards wherever it is he’s supposed to be, but he doesn’t see me. There are too many people, and he’s too far away.

  He trudges towards the centre of the field, Finn beside him, and his shoulders look slumped. He’s lost some of the spark he had a minute ago. He thinks I’m not here.

  Fuck it.

  I stand up, press my fingers to my lips, and whistle as hard and as loud as I can. I ignore the stares from the people around me and pray he can hear me.

  His head whips up immediately and he turns around, looking back at the crowd. It takes a second, but I see the moment he spots me, the moment he realises I’ve turned up, when he sees I’m here and a smile spreads across his face.

  I raise my hand and wave at him.

  He waves back.

  The End.

  Want to see what happens when Rachel finally drags Izzy to a Maths Meet and they make the state final? Click here for the exclusive excerpt.

  Want to see how Ethan’s friend Chase gets on with his fake girlfriend? Read on for an excerpt of The Stand-In-Boyfriend

  Livy Chapman is in love with Jessie Stephenson. It’s that simple. She has been for years but he only see’s her as his best friend. His best friend who copies her homework, relies on her to bail him out of trouble and who he hooks up with other girls in front of.

  Enough is enough and when Chase Mitchell, star of the soccer team, and all round Mr. Popular steps in and convinces her that they can do each other a favour by pretending to date, Livy is just crazy enough over Jessie to agree to it.

  I mean, Chase is just her stand-in boyfriend. Nothing could go wrong. Right?

  Preview of The Stand-in-Boyfriend

  “Stop drooling.”

  My head jerks in the direction of the voice and I see Sophie Steele, my best friend since forever, smirking at me. I roll my eyes like her comment doesn’t bother me, but the heat in my cheeks gives away my embarrassment. “Shut up.”

  She grins. “Your boy’s looking hot. Has he been hitting the gym?” I turn to my locker and start rummaging through it, picking out the books I need for homework and transferring the ones I don’t need from my bag to my locker. She leans against the locker next to mine, her eyes still focused down the hallway. “Someone really needs to tell him to stop wearing yellow though. That’s really not his color.”

  I hold back a laugh. She’s right—it’s not his color. I look back at him and see he’s heading our way. I ignore the butterflies in my stomach—which seem to be getting stronger every day—and instead focus on his face, which is covered in a huge smile as he stops near us. My heart actually pounds in my chest. This is what he does to me—Jessie Stephenson, my other best friend and the guy I’ve been in love with for years.

  “I thought today would never end,” he tells me in greeting.

  “Right?” I agree, turning away from Sophie and giving him my full attention.

  “Stephenson, you really need to stop wearing yellow. It doesn’t work.”

  “Bite me, Sophie.”

  I bite down on my lip to stop myself from laughing out loud. These two are always like this. The three of us have been inseparable since we met Jessie in middle school and let him join our little gang, but sometimes Jessie and Sophie are just one step away from ripping each other’s hair out. I’ve had to play peacemaker on more than one occasion.

  “I’m serious—you look like you got dressed in the dark.”

  Again I have to bite back the grin that wants to break out over my face. Yellow really doesn’t go with his auburn hair.

  He turns to me, eyebrows raised, and I feel a pang of pride that he’s not just taking her word for it and wants my confirmation. “There are other colors that look better on you,” I confirm.

  He flips us both a finger but laughs good-naturedly and turns around as we all file down the hallway and out the main entrance of Grove Valley High School, heading toward our cars.

  Jessie turns to me. “You don’t have practice?”

  I shake my head. “No, Coach canceled it because there was a history trip and a bunch of people aren’t back from it yet.”

  He nods and leads us over to some picnic benches by the parking lot, throwing his bag down on top of it before sitting down. I raise an eyebrow in surprise, expecting him to want to head straight home as usual, but instead he
positions himself so he can see the school entrance, and Sophie collapses into the seat next to him. I shrug and take a seat across from them, stretching out my neck as I do.

  “You guys got any food?” Sophie asks.

  Jessie shakes his head, barely shifting his eyes from the doors as I reach into my bag and dig around for one of the granola bars I always keep on me before pulling one out and tossing it to her. I turn my attention back to Jessie, but he’s focused on something behind me. I turn to see what he’s looking at, but there’s nothing unusual happening, just kids streaming out of school and heading home for the weekend.

  “Everything all right?” I ask.

  He turns to me. “Yeah, just glad this week is done.” He grins wide and my stomach actually flips. I don’t dare look at Sophie because I know for a fact she’ll be smirking at me. I can’t help it; I actually love him.

  I’ve always liked Jessie—always, ever since we met him when we first got to middle school—but it’s past that now. It’s to the point where I’m constantly looking out for him, thinking about what he’s doing, and hoping he’ll notice me as more than just his best friend. That’s what he sees me as: his best friend, Livy, the girl who can kick a soccer ball better than he can, the girl who ends up doing his homework for him (no matter how many times I tell him I won’t), and the girl he has no clue has been in love with him ever since Sophie pushed him over because he cut in front of her in the lunch line and I helped him stand up. I still remember that day, still remember seeing his dark brown eyes and freckles for the first time and feeling like his laugh was the best thing I’d ever heard.

  He started hanging out with us immediately, not caring that his best friends were me, a total tomboy, and Soph, the girliest drama queen you could ever meet. I thought he was the greatest thing ever. It took me a year or two to realize I had a crush on him, but I think Sophie spotted it from day one. After a couple of years, I finally admitted to myself that I didn’t just want to be his friend, and now I swear my crush is bigger than the entire country. Honestly, even I think it’s ridiculous how gigantic it’s gotten. Even though we hang out every day and I know I’m his closest friend, he still doesn’t recognize that I’m a girl, and no matter how many times Sophie tells me to do it, I just can’t make the first move and tell him how I feel.