by Kellie Bean
But as we watch one video about the attention we get in Fairview, then another about Rhiannon's thoughts about standing out when you don't have that same "there's no one else in the world quite like you," edge, it's clear that these videos are pretty personal. Unusually so, for Rhiannon. She's always been the hardest sister to get to open up, but there she is, talking to the internet like the people watching are her closest friends.
The next video has everyone laughing, and I can't help but join in. She's going on about how she's never felt quite sure if she's really, definitely Rhiannon, and how easy it would have been for our parents to mix up babies sometime after we were born. How they always swore it was easy to tell us apart once they got to know us, but how sleeping babies or crying babies probably all look more or less the same. She doesn't seem seriously worried, just amused, considering all the angles like she always has.
After the fifth video, she pauses again.
"So, what's the verdict?" Her gaze settles on Mom, but it feels like she's asking all of us. "Technically, I can stop. I did what I wanted to, and I think this will be kind of badass on a college application, especially with this many views, but I do kind of want to keep going. It's a lot of fun, and I've met some really cool people who are making their own videos.There's a set of triplets in Venezuela who make music videos, covering pop songs, they're really incredible. And there's this big online community of people who are kind of obsessed with identicals."
"I guess that's my only concern," Dad says. "I don't want anyone showing up at the house looking for you, or getting too interested. There are some weirdos on the internet."
"Well clearly, Reagan's there all the time," Rhiannon says, teasing.
Dad scratches at the scruff on his neck. "This is serious, Rhiannon. If you love this, I love it, but I don't want you getting hurt."
"I won't, I promise. I don't say anything too personal. Do you have any idea how many towns there are called Fairview in the U.S.? Too many. And the newspaper here doesn't even put their stuff online. Besides, we'll all be moving in less than a year anyway."
"I'll tell you what," Mom says. "We'll have a closer look and give it some thought. But we reserve the right to pull the plug if needed." She looks at Dad first, who nods his approval of the plan.
"Deal!" Rhiannon says, beaming.
Things break up shortly after that as my parents and Aunt Grace head for the kitchen for a glass of wine, leaving me and my sisters alone in the living room.
Reece has a million questions, and as she peppers them at Rhiannon, I let her voice become background noise, focusing on Reagan instead.
"Are you okay with this?" I ask, trying not to talk too loud. Ray's face is hard to read right now, but she doesn't look angry.
"Yeah, I guess. I don't love the attention. But it's Rhiannon, and I'm pretty sure this is never going to be some sort of trashy gossip channel, or turn into her pranking us or anything. I guess it'll be fine."
"It will," I say, becoming more confident as the words leave my mouth. "She's good at this. And it obviously makes her happy."
"She may even be able to start making some money eventually. People are obviously interested. If the channel keeps getting bigger, you never know."
"Ooo, and then she'll get super famous, and people will start approaching all of us on the street, thinking we're her." I'm joking, but with the way Reagan's face contorts, I'm pretty sure I've gone too far. Part of me doesn't hate the idea of other people knowing who I am and coming up to say hi, but that would be the last thing Reagan would want. "Don't worry," I say, reaching over to nudge my sister. "It'll all be fine. We didn't even know this was happening before. It'll still be like that."
"Hello my favorite sisters," Reece says, bouncing over to us to kneel in front of the couch. "Have I told you lately how beautiful you both are?"
"Oh good, she wants something," Reagan answers.
"Only your beautiful faces. I tried to talk Rhi into letting me be on her channel but she's not sure. So," she says, drawing the word out, "I thought maybe it would be fun to have us all in a video. I mean, who can resist that?"
I look over to Rhiannon, who shrugs. "People have been begging to see you guys. I'd need to work out how to do something more in depth with one of you—"
Reece coughs.
"With Reece. But if you guys would be up for a quick just waving at the camera kind of thing, I think people would really love it."
Reagan groans and tosses her head back toward the couch cushions.
"You don't have to if you don't want to. I'll script something for Reece and I later, not a big deal."
"No! Come on, this will be great," Reece argues, radiating excitement. "It'll just be like two minutes and it'll be so much fun."
It doesn't take long for the pressure to crack Reagan. Rhiannon also promises that we all get veto powers on the final video. We'll film it, see how it looks, and then we can decide if we actually want to post it.
Minutes later, we're all headed upstairs to do a quick round of hair and makeup before our big internet debut, while Rhiannon disappears into her room.
Ten minutes later, we step inside to find a pretty impressive setup, all surrounding Rhi's desk. The camera she's set up on her desk is just her phone on a small stand, but she's got lamps everywhere, all directing light at where I guess we're supposed to sit.
And now I'm nervous. Whatever happens next, the whole world will get to see. I mean, not that they will. But they could. And usually I don't mind attention, but the whole world...well, that's a lot of people.
Still, Rhiannon takes charge, and there's no denying that she knows exactly what she's doing. Before taking her usual seat, she directs all three of us to different spots standing behind her, working to adjust the camera to get us all in.
"Ready?" She says, sitting down. "I'm just going to ad lib an intro, then introduce you guys. You'll wave, say hello if you want to, and that's it. Super easy. We can film it a couple times if you want.”
She glances back, looking at all of us. "Last chance to back out."
But even Reagan stays put. Rhiannon's excitement is catching, and she's already explained absolutely everything that will happen. We've got this.
And with the touch of a button, we're recording.
I do my best to look natural and smile.
"Hey guys, Rhiannon here. I've got a surprise for you for today's video. Although I guess you can all see what it is. I showed my family my channel for the first time today and my sisters were awesome enough to agree to say hi to all of you awesome people." Rhiannon comes alive as she talks to the camera, explaining how nervous she was to show us what she'd been doing and basically recapping the entire night so far. I get the feeling that the people who are subscribed to her probably know Rhiannon's life lately better than I do. This is what my sister has been up to while I've been busy falling for Rosie.
But now's not the time for introspection. My attention is pulled back when Rhiannon calls Reagan's name. My sister gives a little squeak and waves. Next, Reece salutes the camera before quickly apologizing for looking like an idiot. Rhiannon promises her it's fine, still using her on camera voice. Then it's my turn.
"Hi guys," is all I manage, along with a little wave as I try to remember where Rhiannon told me to look.
And then it's done. Rhiannon hits stop on her phone and it's all over.
"Do you need us to film it again?" Reece asks.
"Nope, that was awesome. Totally perfect. It'll take me a bit to edit it, but I think you guys will like how it turns out."
And to my surprise, I do. Somehow Rhiannon manages to turn our improvised video into something pretty nice, highlighting each of us in turn. But the moments when she's talking and all four of us are in frame together are my favorite. She managed to cut all of the little moments when we paused too long, or Reagan looked particularly uncomfortable, and instead, we look great. Fun. The same, but different.
"You're really good at this," I say, leani
ng over Rhiannon's desk to replay what she's just shown us. Reece and Reagan crowd in behind me.
"Thanks!" Rhiannon answers, still watching the screen. She's grinning again, and my heart is about ready to burst with how happy I am for her.
"Yeah," Reece says. "This is awesome. You're killing it."
I move my foot to tap behind me, prompting Reagan. "Totally agreed," she says, managing to sound natural. "This is epic."
We're only there for a few more minutes before it's time to get ready for bed, but I enjoy every second of it. Times like this are maybe my favorite part about being a quadruplet. The support, the built-in team. Even though it's not me that we're celebrating right now, in a way it feels like it is.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The sound of a phone ringing startles me out of the algebra textbook I have open in front of me on the kitchen table.
Instinctively, I grab for my phone, but the screen remains blank. It's not mine.
The phone rings again. Right. Landline.
Even after two years in this house, I still forget that it came with a phone number that has belonged to the Fairview town doctor for more than fifty years. Mostly, the town's senior residents use it to get ahold of Mom, sometimes at the most random times of day, but mostly the phone sits silently on the wall, forgotten.
Even most old people have phones now.
"Can someone get that please?" Mom's voice hollers from upstairs.
Right. Actually answering the phone. I've been so deep into study mode that my brain is barely able to do anything else.
I reach the wall unit at the same time as the third ring finishes and answer, "Hello? Uh, Donovan household?"
"Hi there," a woman's voice answers. It's not anyone I recognize, and there's a trace of an accent I can't place. "I'm looking for Grace Donovan. Is she there?"
Okay. That was unexpected. I know Grace has her own phone; she's been using it to send us all pictures of her travels for years.
"Um, I'm not sure. I'll have to check. Can I ask who's calling?" It's strange how quickly I fall back into my own habits. I must have had this kind of conversation a hundred times as a kid, enough that I know the script by heart.
"It's Rachel," the voice answers. "I'm a friend of your aunt. Who is this?"
I recognize the name at once as a friend of Aunt Grace's who has turned up in a lot of her pictures over the years. I think she may have even known my dad once upon a time. "This is Reilly."
"Oh wow, well it's lovely to finally speak to you. Grace talks about you girls all the time."
"I'll go see if I can find her," I promise, before putting the call on hold, leaving the phone on the table.
With absolutely no idea whether my aunt is here or not, I start from the main floor and work my way up. Thinking about it, I actually have no idea who is and isn't home. It's Thursday afternoon and I've been studying pretty much since the second I got home. I'm pretty sure Rhiannon and Reece are both doing the same, since we all have the same algebra test tomorrow, though during different periods. I wouldn't be surprised if Reagan's here too, doing work for school in some form or another.
All of the rumors I've ever heard about senior year are turning out to be true. It's not long now before we're expected to start turning in our college applications, and it seems like every single one of my teachers is determined to give us as much of a preview of next year as they can. All of the homework, tests, and essays as they can manage, without any of the college parties or freedom that comes with actually finishing high school.
There's no sign of Grace on the main floor, and I head for the stairs, bumping into Mom on her way down.
"Did you leave the phone in the kitchen?" She asks.
"Yeah, but it wasn't for you."
Mom stops, doing a double-take. "Really?" Her streaked brown hair has recently been cut into a long bob, the curve of the style suiting her round face well.
"Yeah. Someone looking for Grace. Have you seen her?"
"She went to your room for a nap after lunch, but that was hours ago. I can't imagine she'd still be in there."
"I'll check anyway."
"Then I guess I'll go back to my book. I'll admit I wasn't looking forward to rushing over to Mrs. McNoil's again just to refill her prescription because she lost the last bottle. Again."
"Yup, go read," I say, already heading up the stairs. "I've got this."
A moment later, I knock on the door to my own bedroom, feeling a little strange about it. No one answers, so I step inside. It is my room after all.
And there's Grace, still fast asleep, a blanket tucked up around her face, and her pillow sprawled on the floor beside the bed.
"Grace," I say softly, waiting a moment before doing it again. At last, she stirs, groaning a little as she opens her eyes.
"What time is it?" She mumbles.
"Almost six. There's someone on the phone for you."
Grace sits up slowly, delicately, and reaches toward my nightstand for her cell phone.
"Nope. On the house phone."
"Really? Is it your grandparents?"
"Nope. Your friend BLANK. Maybe she lost your number or something?" Although that wouldn't explain how she had this one.
Grace's expression shifts immediately, closing itself off and becoming impossible to read.
"Tell her I'm not home," she says after a moment. "But that I'll call her later." Reading the confusion on my face she adds, "I'm just feeling super grimey and want to have a quick shower first, that's all."
"No problem. I'll pass along the message."
"Thank you, sweetheart."
I close the door behind me again with a click as Mom calls out from her room. "Did you find her?"
I take a few steps toward the open door of my parents’ bedroom and take a step inside. "Yup, she was still sleeping."
"I swear, between Reagan and Grace, and your new late-night tea habit, nobody in this house is getting enough sleep anymore. You'd think you'd all know better with a doctor in the family. I'll talk to Grace though, see if we can at least get you access to your bedroom during the afternoon."
"I was studying in the kitchen anyway, it's not a big deal."
Mom closes the cover of the book she's reading, sticking her thumb inside to save her place. "You know, sometimes I'm not sure how we managed a kid quite as nice as you are."
"Just lucky, I guess." I can't help but smile.
"That must be it."
I leave Mom to her book and head back downstairs as the sound of the shower springing to life comes from behind me. Just as I'm about to turn back down the hallway, a flash of movement catches my eye.
Through the warped glass windows on either side of the door, I can see someone heading up the driveway. And I still have no idea where the rest of my family is.
I pause, waiting for whoever it is. When I open the door, I'm so glad I did. Rosie's standing on the other side with a box in her hands that she's fumbling to shift to her hip to free up a hand. She stops when she sees me, and a smile lights up her face.
"Hey!"
"Hey, sorry," I say quickly, moving aside so she can come in. "Two seconds, I've just got someone waiting on the phone."
As I close the door, Molly wanders in from the living room, her favorite napping spot, to see who’s at the door, yipping happily as soon as she sees Rosie. I like to think that my girlfriend is one of her favorite people, but really the dog likes everyone. I like to think she gets that from me.
I sprint back toward the kitchen, confident Rosie will follow me. I didn't know she was coming, but even if she's here for Reagan, I can't imagine a world where she wouldn't want to say hi to me first.
"Hello?" I say, answering the phone again.
"Grace?"
"No, sorry. Still Reilly. Grace isn't home right now, but I'll pass along the message and make sure she calls you back as soon as she gets in."
"Ah, okay." Disappointment rings clear through the phone line. "Well thank you for your help."
"Did you want her cell number?"
"No, no. I've got it. Have a great day, Reilly."
"You too."
I hang up the phone and spin to face Rosie, who is currently putting her box down on the counter.
"You're here!" I say, too impatient to wait for her to come to me. In the span of a heartbeat, I'm standing beside her, pulling her toward me so I can plant a kiss on her nose, and then on her lips. She giggles, pulling away for a moment before returning the kiss.
"It's nice to see you too," she whispers, her lips still close to mine.
"Are you here to see Reagan?"
"Nope!"
No! "Did we have plans? I'm so sorry. I can't believe—"
Rosie stops me, squeezing my hand. "This is a surprise, you goof. Everything's fine. I just knew you were in hardcore study mode and wanted to bring you something to help get you through it."
Rosie turns back toward her box, opening the lid to pull out what looks to be a brown blob of... something. It smells like food, but its shape is something of a mystery.
"It's banana bread!" She says when I don't respond.
"Oh wow! It smells incredible. Did you make it?"
"Yup, my mom gave me a recipe." And apparently didn't help her follow it.
That was a terrible thing to think, and I feel bad right away even though the thought never escaped my lips.
"Thank you so much! This is amazing. Seriously, it's like the nicest thing ever." And it really is. I can't imagine a nicer feeling in the world than knowing that while I've been stuck here studying for what is probably my least favorite class, Rosie was not only thinking about me, but wanted to do something nice.
"Did you want to try some?"
"Obviously!" And yes, I'm a little worried about putting a piece of that—bread?—into my mouth, but I'm more than happy to at least give it a try. And then eat the whole thing even if it's terrible.
Thankfully, for me and for any of my family who might happen to wander into the kitchen any time soon, it's really not terrible. It's even kind of good. Definitely recognizable as banana bread, which is a bigger baking feat than I'll ever be able to pull off.
