She’s better off without me, and I know I won’t reply to her. I can’t. So, I bury my thoughts on my former best friend just like I try to bury everything else.
“We’re here.”
“Thanks,” I mumble to the only taxi driver I’ve been able to find since I moved to this town as I climb out of the car. He nods and pulls away from the curb. Truth be told, he’s not actually a taxi driver. He just works at the motel I’ve been holed up at since last week. A shitty phone call from my father made it very clear that I was expected at school today and that my accounts have been frozen unless I return to his house and start living there. I watch as the middle-aged man drives away in his beat-up truck; I couldn’t exactly ask Marcus to drive me. He’s been great the last few days, checking in on me, sending me funny texts, and even coming round and eating with me a couple of times, but I definitely couldn’t ask him to drop me off at the high school. Part of me knows whatever we have going on would end the minute he found out I’m seventeen.
I look up at the school I spent one morning in a whole week ago and haven’t been back to since. In my room this week, watching TV and drinking the bottle of vodka the guy behind the reception managed to get for me, I managed to convince myself I wouldn’t have to come back here. Overall, I’ve had a good week. All I’ve done is drink alcohol and watch movies and daydream about going back to the UK, and it was great. It made me feel like I could make my own choices, like my decisions hadn’t been taken away from me—and then my dad called, made his feelings perfectly clear, and ruined it all again for me.
I cross the road and pass through the gates of the school, heading up the path. If last time people were looking at me curiously as the new girl, this week they’re flat-out staring, and it’s enough to make me want to turn around and run…but I’ve realised that’s the problem I have: I don’t have anywhere to run to.
I climb the steps to the main entrance, schooling my features into a blank, disinterested look, and I don’t bother looking around. I look straight ahead as I brush through the crowds and enter the school.
And that’s when I stop.
Almost immediately, I spot Ethan at the end of the hall, surrounded by his friends. He’s talking to Finn about something, looking intense, but it’s like he can sense me looking and he glances up. His eyes lock with mine, something like relief flashing across his face before a scowl takes over and he steps away from his friends.
I look away, trying to remember where Pippa said my locker was and hoping I left at least a pen and paper in there before I bailed last time. I take a step in the direction of where I think it might be.
He’s by my side in a second. “Where have you been?”
I try to brush past him, but he’s not having any of it. He grabs my arm and pulls me back, whirling me around.
“I mean it, Biz. Where have you been?”
“Don’t call me that,” I scowl, reaching into my bag and pulling out my schedule. I wrote my locker number and the combination at the bottom, and I scan around looking for number 89. I’m at the wrong end of the hallway and start to make my way down it, walking past his friends, who are not even trying to pretend they’re not watching us with interest.
“Biz!”
“What?” I ask as I reach my locker. I start to fidget with the lock, trying to open it, but it doesn’t work. I’ve never had to use a locker like this before; we didn’t have to use them at all in my old school.
“Where the hell have you been for the last week?” he demands, his voice low but nevertheless laced with anger.
I give up trying the combination and turn back to him. “Did you tell Dad?” He presses his mouth into a thin line, and it tells me everything I need to know. “Thanks a lot.”
“I didn’t know where you were!”
“I texted you and told you I was fine.”
He snorts in disbelief. “You think texting me on Saturday morning with five words—literally, I’m fine, leave me alone—is good enough? Then following it up hours later just saying I’m staying somewhere else for now, see you later—do you really think that’s okay?”
“Look, I’m sorry okay? I wasn’t thinking.”
He runs his hand through his hair and his jaw tenses. “I spent all Friday night driving round looking for you. So did those guys,” he says, waving his hands back to his friends, who are definitely listening to this conversation. I glance around. Most of the students in the hall seem to be listening. He’s certainly not being quiet. “I rang you a million times and you think telling me you’re fine a day later and then showing up here almost a week later is okay?”
“I didn’t ask you to do any of that.”
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he tells me, throwing his hands up in the air. “You have got to be the most selfish—”
“Oh stop it, Ethan,” I snap, losing my patience as I glance around. “Do we really need to make another scene for everyone to witness?” That seems to get through to him, and he glances around, embarrassed at the amount of faces on us. I guess he was too pissed at me to even notice.
He grips my arms and hustles me to into a nearby empty classroom. He’s not done bitching at me—he just doesn’t want everyone to hear it. “You need to tell me if you’re not coming home. I had no idea where you were or who you were with.”
It’s my turn to snort in disbelief. “You’re not my dad, Ethan.” He looks slightly stricken at that, like he thinks because he’s my brother he has a right to be protective over me. “And newsflash: our actual dad wouldn’t care.”
There’s not much he can say to that. He knows it’s true.
“But speaking of Dad, did you tell him?”
The look on his face tells me everything I need to know. I shake my head in disbelief.
“I didn’t know where you were.”
“Dad called me, you know,” I tell him, stepping in closer, letting him know exactly how pissed off I am with him. “He called me himself, on my actual phone, for the first time since Mum died just to tell me in no uncertain terms that I had to get back to the house and back to school or else I would regret it.”
Ethan pales. He knows exactly what our father can be like. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”
“I was in London for months,” I tell him flatly. “I didn’t go to school for weeks on end. I drank every night, woke up in random strangers’ beds, and when it got really bad even took drugs, and he didn’t call me once.” Ethan’s face pales. I don’t think he had any real clue about the extent of my lifestyle in London. “He didn’t give a fuck.” My voice drops even lower. “And then one call from his precious boy and he’s on the phone threatening to cut me off.”
He swallows hard. “It’s not because I rang him. It’s because you’re here. He wants to look a certain way to the people around here.”
“Do you know what it’s like to be me, Ethan? Do you have any idea what it’s like to have all your options taken away from you? To have your estranged father decide you can’t stay in your home anymore? In your school? Even in your own country? To have him make major decisions about your life and take away any of the choices you want to make?”
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I know this is hard for you and I know you don’t want to be here, but it was too much for you in London. You were a complete mess. You needed someone to look out for you. You couldn’t carry on like you were.”
My whole body stills as his words settle over me.
Ethan realises he’s messed up the second it clicks with me.
“It was you.”
He opens his mouth to say something but then snaps it shut again.
I blink as it all starts to make sense—how my dad didn’t bother with me for months but a week after Ethan left he started ringing up and bothering my mum’s friends who were keeping an eye on me, telling them I had to come here, threatening to bring in lawyers and have the police escort me to the airport if it came down to that.
“You’re the reason I
’m here. You said something.”
He presses his lips together again. I guess I was wrong. He wasn’t as oblivious to my lifestyle as I thought he was.
I hate him in this moment. Just for a second, I hate him for being the reason I’m here. I hate him almost as much as I hate myself.
Blind rage takes over, and I shove him with every ounce of strength I have. “You bastard.”
He stumbles back before he finds his footing, and anger takes over his features. “Yes. Yes, it was me, and I’d do it again. I went to London and saw that you were intent on killing yourself over there, so I told him he had to get you back here.”
My jaw drops open. “Killing myself? What are you talking about?”
“You’re a freaking mess, Biz. All you want to do is end yourself, and maybe you’re not going to put a knife to your wrist, but doing what you were doing and getting yourself into the states I saw you in is gonna end up with the same result.”
Well if that isn’t the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard. “You have no right to judge me. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“Because you won’t tell me. You won’t talk to me.”
“Are you surprised?” I demand. “Are you really surprised? We haven’t spoken properly in years.”
He rubs a hand across his face, and all the fight leaves his body. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“By having Dad make decisions for me? For taking away everything I know?”
“I was worried about you.”
I blink back tears. This feels like betrayal. Because whilst there’s no denying we haven’t been close in years, I never thought he’d go against me to Dad.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. I do not forgive you. I will not forgive you for this.”
“I was scared, Biz. I was scared something was going to happen to you.”
I let out a noise of disbelief. “I don’t give a crap if you were scared. You’ve messed everything up.”
Ethan stares at me for what feels like a lifetime but eventually nods and glances away. After a couple of seconds, he turns back to me. “What else did he say?”
“Who?”
“Dad, when he called you this week.”
“He cut me off, froze my accounts. He’s not going to give me any more money until I’ve been here for at least a week and I’m turning up to school every day. I literally have ten dollars left. I can’t even buy myself a meal in a diner.” I shake my head in disgust. I should be surprised that my dad’s done this, but I’m not…not when it’s my controlling, self-obsessed, arrogant father. I tilt my head to the side and refocus on Ethan. “Apparently he has people watching me.”
He shakes his head. “He’s bullshitting you.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Well we both know money talks, Ethan, and he has a lot of it. This school will do anything he wants.”
He shakes his head, but I’m not done.
“You should know how important money is. It’s why you picked him, right? Why you chose to be over here instead of at home with Mum?”
His eyes widen in disbelief and he turns pale. This is the first time I’ve ever called him out on this, the first time I’ve been angry enough to do it. “Tell me you don’t actually think that.”
The bell rings, and I’m glad. I’m over this, completely over this argument. The door to the classroom bursts open and a couple of kids start walking in but then freeze in the doorway, obviously wondering if they’re interrupting something. I can see some of Ethan’s friends waiting for him outside.
“Come on, you know me better than that,” he insists. “You’re my sister—you’re my twin.”
I make my way towards the door as more kids stream in. I’ve had it with this conversation.
Ethan follows me outside while I try to figure out where I’m supposed to be. “I mean it, Biz. You know that’s not the reason. Look, now that we’re living together again, we can go back to how we used to be, how we were before.”
I don’t even bother to respond to that.
“Just let me know where you’re gonna be if you stay out from now on, okay?” He’s persistent; I’ll give him that. “I was really worried. I’ll do the same.”
A laugh nearly bursts out of me. I don’t care where he is, but I want this conversation done. “Fine. Whatever,” I tell him, just to shut him up. “I’ll text you.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just nods and then walks away, back to his friends as I watch him. He stops after five or so steps and turns back to me. I steel myself for whatever else he’s going to say, but all he does is walk back over to me, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “Here,” he mumbles whilst thrusting all the notes he has in there into my hands, and then he turns and walks away the corridor without another word.
It’s lunchtime before I have any interaction with anyone else. I’ve kept my head down all day and ignored any attempts by anyone to engage me in conversation. It’s not like they actually want to talk to me anyway; they only want to talk to me because of Ethan, and that’s the last thing I want to talk about.
My classes drag as I try to focus, but it’s all stuff I’ve done before. I sit there and daydream whilst the teacher drones on. Everywhere I turn it feels as though someone wants to talk to me, and when I see Ethan’s girlfriend waiting for me outside a class with the auburn-haired girl who was staring daggers at me the last time I was here, it’s all I can do not to groan out loud.
“Hey.” Evie steps away from the locker she’s leaning against, a cheery smile on her face that’s about as fake as they come.
“Hey,” I reply, but I don’t stop to talk, continuing down to my locker for my third attempt of the day to open it.
Pippa walks past and does a double take when she sees me. “Hey, you’re here.”
I smile. Yup, I’m definitely here.
“Are you okay? I’ve looked out for you this week but haven’t seen you anywhere.”
“Yeah, I’ve not been around.”
She nods. “I heard.” She looks back at me. “People have been talking about you all week.” I sigh. That’s the last thing I want to hear. She clears her throat as she looks around. “About what I said on your tour last week…” I frown, not understanding what she’s talking about. I can’t remember what she said on my tour. I was too busy trying not to be intimidated by everything I saw around me. When I don’t say anything, she blushes. “About Ethan,” she clarifies, her voice so quiet I have to strain to hear it.
“Oh.”
“I would, um, really appreciate if you didn’t—”
“I won’t say a word,” I promise her. “It’s not as if we’re exactly on speaking terms right now.”
She nods, too polite to point out that the whole school knows by now that I don’t get on with my brother.
“I’m sorry, by the way. I should have told you who I was before you started talking about him.”
She nods and blushes an even deeper red. She’s clearly really embarrassed. “Yeah, it would have been nice to know you were related before I started fangirling all over him.”
I smile. She’s totally right. I would hate if it were the other way around. “Your secret’s safe with me. I promise I won’t say a word.” I pause. “Although you should get better taste in guys.”
Her whole face turns scarlet, and I can’t help but laugh as she mutters something about going to the cafeteria then leaves me behind before I can ask her how I’m supposed to open my locker.
I turn back to it and try—for what feels like the millionth time—to open it up. I put in the combination Pippa told me and spin the lock just like she did, but it still doesn’t work.
“Need some help?”
I almost jump out of my skin at the close proximity of the voice and turn to my right to see Ethan’s friends surrounding me. Finn is standing there with the guy who kept calling me ‘pretty girl’ last week—Logan?—and another guy I saw sat at their table too. Across the hall are
a bunch of other guys staring at me, and they’re all wearing letterman jackets so I guess they’re friends from the football team.
“So you’re the famous twin then?” Logan asks, standing next to Finn with a wide grin on his face.
“We’re Ethan’s friends,” Finn tells me. “I’m Finn. This is Logan.” He nods at the guy who just spoke to me. “And this is Matty,” he finishes, pointing out a stocky guy who is typically handsome in a farmer kind of way. The guys across the hall start chiming in with their names too, and I know I’ll never remember them. Finn smiles at me. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
I allow myself to take in how good-looking he is for all of two seconds, noticing the stubble on his jawline, the bright shade of green his eyes are, and the mop of dark curly hair that sits on the top of his head and is short at the sides. Then I dismiss it.
Logan looks me up and down. “Ethan was totally holding out on us.”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well we all knew he had a sister, but he didn’t tell us you’re a total smokeshow.”
I stare back at him blankly. “I don’t know what that means.”
Matty clears his throat. “It means you’re hot—really hot.”
Logan grins wider. “Like the hottest chick we’ve ever seen at this school.” I roll my eyes. That’s hardly true, more like they’ve just known all the girls here for years and I’m someone new for them to try to hit on. “Seriously, and Ethan didn’t tell us.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Well I don’t know how they do things over here, but where I’m from, that would be weird considering he’s my brother.”
Matty starts to laugh, shaking his head in amusement. Finn cracks a grin too, but Logan looks mortified. “That’s not what I meant!” He looks around at his friends, holding his hands up and shaking his head. “You know I didn’t mean that. I don’t think about my sister like that.”
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