The Stolen Twin

by Michele PW (Pariza Wacek)

  Tommy stared at me. “He grabbed you?”

  “Yeah, technically … ”

  “He shook you?”

  “Well, yeah, but he didn’t hurt me that much … ”

  Tommy scowled. I had the feeling he wouldn’t mind shaking me himself. “Kit,” he said in a carefully controlled voice. “Why are you defending him?”

  “Yeah,” Elena piped in. I glared at her. She snapped her mouth closed.

  “I’m not defending him. Really. But I’m getting a very strong vibe that you’d like to use this guy as a tackle dummy and I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Especially right before a game.”

  He looked a little mollified. “Why didn’t you come back in the library? I would’ve helped you.”

  “Kicked the shit out of him, you mean.” I paused to gulp more beer. “Not that it would’ve been all bad, but you have to admit it’s not the greatest press to have the star quarterback punching out some nerdy graduate student.”

  Tommy frowned. “Quit worrying about me and my football career. You’re what’s important. If anything had happened to you … ” his voice trailed off and he dropped his gaze, muttering something under his breath.

  God, he was gorgeous. I could feel my heart soften even as my electrified emotions jolted through my veins. I sighed loudly, hoping to cover my feelings. “Look, he was between me and the door, and I thought running down the stairs would be better than trying to go around him. I was wrong. I realized that about halfway down. I should’ve gone back in to you.”

  He raised his head, locking his dark green eyes with mine. “Yes, you should have.”

  Those eyes. So poignant, so warm, so sexy. Caressing me, drawing me in. I could feel myself getting lost in their green depths. I forced myself to turn away. “Need to use the bathroom. Back in a sec.”

  Quickly, I slunk into the crowd. I will not allow myself to get involved with him again, I chanted to myself. I will not allow myself to fall in …

  “Hello, Kit.”

  I spun around. David stood there, smiling, holding a beer.

  Anger sizzled through me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He looked hurt. “Is that any way to greet a boyfriend?”

  I gaped at him. How dare he have the gall to look hurt. “David, let me make this very simple for you. You’re not my boyfriend.”

  He reached out and caressed my arm. “Of course I am. Look at all we share.” His voice was so warm, so tender. “I mean, we both lost sisters, we both suffered with Cystic Fibrosis in our families. It’d be a shame if other people knew all our secrets, wouldn’t it Kit?”

  Did he just say what I thought he did? “Are you threatening me?” My voice rose with each word.

  He squeezed my arm. “I would never threaten you. I’m simply letting you know how things stand between us. Keeping the lines of communication open. That’s a good thing in a relationship, don’t you think?” His nails dug into my skin, hurting me.

  “Get your fucking hands off her.” Tommy burst in, yanking David’s arm off me and pinning it behind his back. David gasped, dropping his beer, his face draining of color.

  “Tommy,” I said.

  Tommy ignored me, tightening his grip on David. At least that’s how it appeared, since David’s face was ashen, his mouth stretched in a grimace.

  “I think you owe the lady an apology,” Tommy said. His teammates started to circle us. “And then I think you should leave.”

  David gasped again and made a squeaking noise. Tears glistened in his eyes, two bright red spots bloomed on his otherwise pale cheeks. I wondered how I ever could have found him attractive. A bully and a coward. Revolting.

  “This is between Kit and me,” he squeaked out.

  Tommy jerked his arm higher and David cried out. “Wrong answer,” Tommy said. “Want to try again?”

  “Kit, I … I … I need to talk to you alone.”

  “Hey, I don’t think you’re getting with the program here. Do you need the Cliff Notes?”

  “Tommy, please,” I said, afraid he might really hurt David. Not that I didn’t think David deserved it, but I didn’t want anything to happen to Tommy.

  “Kit, remember the roses,” David squeaked, his voice breaking. Tears spilled down his face. “Sixty-five.”

  I stared at him, horrified. I couldn’t have heard him right. He wouldn’t dare. Not in front of all these people. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

  “Tommy,” one of his teammates said. “I think this guy needs to learn things the hard way.”

  “No.” I stepped forward as David opened his mouth. I saw it then – the expression oozing across his tear-stained, blotchy face. He would say it, in front of all these people. He would announce to everyone I had Cystic Fibrosis. He would do it, not just to save himself, but also to punish me.

  David smiled. Weakly, painfully, but nevertheless triumphantly. He knew he had won. I hated him.

  “Let him go,” I said. “Let me talk to him.”

  Tommy’s eyes burned me. “Kit.”

  I touched his arm. “Please, Tommy,” I said softly. “It’s not worth it. Really. Don’t put yourself in jeopardy over this.”

  Tommy’s eyes narrowed, his mouth flattened. I let my eyes plead with his. The muscles of his jaw worked. “Fuck,” he spat, releasing David. David crumpled to the ground.

  I stepped toward Tommy. “Thank you,” I tried to say, but he stalked away.

  The mood of the crowd had shifted. Rather than thirsting for David’s blood, they now wanted mine. One by one, their expressions melted into disgust before drifting away.

  I deliberately turned my attention to David, refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing my devastation. Choosing David over Tommy? Now who was humiliated?

  “What do you want from me?” I hissed as he steadied himself.

  He whipped his head toward me, eyes smoldering. “Leave with me now.”

  I recoiled from his hot eyes. “No. Talk now.”

  He seized my arm. “I said leave with me now.” I jerked my arm away, knowing I could no longer count on anyone for help. I was on my own.

  “I’ll step outside with you for a minute, that’s it.” I marched to the door. People stepped out of my way without seeing me.

  I stormed outside. The icy air burned my cheeks, but I barely felt it – the heat of my fury keeping me warm.

  I faced him. “We’re alone. Now talk, you fuck.”

  He advanced on me, stuck his finger in my face. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”

  I slapped his finger away. “I’ll talk to you any damn way I please. Now, what do you want?” His odd salty spice smell made me gag.

  He glowered at me, lips pressed together so tightly his mouth disappeared. Tears still streaked his face, wet and shiny under the street lamp, but his eyes were black with fury. Suddenly he paused, shook his head and closed his eyes. His expression smoothed itself out. I blinked a couple of times, wondering if I had seen what I thought I did.

  “Isn’t it obvious? You. I want you.”

  “Well, you can’t have me,” I snapped.

  He cocked his head. “Oh, but there’s where you’re wrong. I can.”

  “What makes you think you can?”

  David smiled smugly. “Because I’ll tell.”

  I swallowed, struggling to control my emotions. I felt nauseous and angry at the same time. “Tell?”

  “You know. Tell everyone you have Cystic Fibrosis.”

  Anger won out. “Let me get this straight. You’d tell everyone one of my secrets in order to keep me from breaking up with you?”

  He shrugged, his smile growing wider.

  I folded my arms across my chest. “Go fuck yourself.” I strode past him, returning to the party.

  “Kit, I wouldn’t kid mys
elf if I were you,” he called.

  I snapped my head around. “I will not be a hostage to my disease,” I shouted. “That’s something I’ve always refused to do. And I won’t be one in this situation either.”

  “It worked in there.”

  I didn’t answer. I had no answer. He was right, of course. Damn him. My fury was so great I felt like I’d choke on it.

  “Why don’t you think about it?” he said, his tone suddenly warm and intimate. “I’ll call you soon, okay?”

  “Don’t bother.” I stomped back to the party, ready to strangle him if he said one more thing to me. Luckily for him, he let me go without another word.

  Chapter 15

  “Well, last night went well, wouldn’t you say?”

  I glanced up to see Brandi pouring herself coffee in a rich, understated blue mug with Techron Industries on it in silver. Her father’s business. “Yeah, real well.” I went back to brooding into my own coffee.

  “Just remember, you did it to yourself.”

  “Gee, thanks for the support. It’s so nice to have your roommates on your side.”

  Brandi sauntered over to sit at the table. Like me, she wore a bright-red UW sweatshirt and had pulled her hair back in a ponytail. “I’m only telling you because you seemed a bit clueless last night. I thought maybe you needed a little help figuring out what was going on.” Her eyes watched me over her mug, more green than brown, looking like pieces of chipped ice.

  I continued to pick at my toast, not bothering to answer.

  Last night had been a complete and utter disaster. After returning to the party, almost everyone ignored me. Tommy especially wanted nothing to do with me. The only person who acknowledged my existence was Elena.

  “Kit, I don’t get it. Why’d you do that to Tommy?” she had asked.

  “I didn’t want Tommy to get in trouble. I was trying to protect him.” Even to me it sounded lame.

  The way Elena studied me made me feel like a freak in a sideshow – a two-headed monkey or the world’s stupidest human. “That’s not exactly how it looked.”

  Obviously.

  Finally, after several unsuccessful attempts to talk to Tommy, I had called a cab. I spent the rest of the night huddled in my dark bedroom with a bottle of cheap red wine. I kept my pepper spray, noisemaker and cell phone all within easy reach.

  Brandi banged her mug on the table, the noise loud enough to yank me out of my thoughts. “Here’s a wild and crazy thought: maybe if you’d let Tommy and the rest of the football team beat the shit out of David, then maybe you wouldn’t have a problem with him anymore.”

  “Then Tommy and the rest of the football team would be in trouble for beating the shit out of David. That’s why I stopped it.” I crumbled my toast, a fine layer of crumbs covering the pale white and gold plate. Brandi owned this plate.

  Brandi’s eyes went wide. “That’s why you stopped it? Who the fuck do you think the cops would believe, David or the star quarterback?”

  “What are you talking about?” I said tiredly. “People would talk, the cops would hear … ”

  “About what? Do you really think people would choose a scum like David over Tommy?”

  I sat up. “And turn this into some sort of conspiracy? No thank you. The truth always comes out on these things anyway.”

  “What, are we in some made-for-TV movie or something? Truths get buried all the time. Besides, David is scum and Tommy would’ve been doing you a huge favor. Especially after that scene you threw in the Union. How do you think it looks – you crying that David won’t leave you alone, and then turning on Tommy because he tries to take care of it?”

  I studied my half-eaten, half-crumbled toast. Of course that’s how people would see it. They didn’t know what David had over me. Brandi was right. Truths did get buried all the time.

  “I know I handled that whole scene badly –” I began.

  “File that under ‘duh.’” Brandi picked up her mug, the silver rim winking at me.

  “And I want to make it right,” I continued. “I screwed up. I knew it the moment I did it. Now I just have to get Tommy to talk to me again so I can apologize.”

  Brandi shrugged. “Why would you want to do that? You’re the one who wants to break up. I think you got your point across pretty damn effectively last night.”

  I sagged in my chair. Oh, God, what have I done?

  Brandi laid her fingers flat against the table and inspected her bright red nails. “Coming to the game?”

  “That’s why I have my lucky sweatshirt on.”

  She stood up. “Hope for your sake it is lucky. We’re meeting the gang in a half hour.”

  I nodded, wondering what kind of reception I could expect.

  ***

  Chilly. That about summed it up. In fact, I think the weather may have been warmer than the greetings.

  I ended up being pushed off to the side, basically sitting by myself. I hunched over, my arms against my knees, breathing in the smells of stale popcorn, hot dogs and cigarettes, and alternated between hating David and feeling sorry for myself. For the first time, I regretted not pledging when I had the chance. If I had, I could expect at least some loyalty. Since I hadn’t, I wasn’t really one of them. But Tommy was. Therefore, Tommy had their support. And I got to sit at the end of the bench, miserable, and watch Tommy play probably the worst game of his life.

  Two interceptions, a dropped snap and what seemed like dozens of incomplete passes. I had never seen him play so badly before. What made it even worse was my sinking suspicion that I was at least partly to blame.

  “I’m surprised you showed.” Elena bustled over. She plunked down next to me, her stylish black coat buttoned all the way up and a purple-brown scarf wrapped around her copper-colored curls.

  “I’m surprised I did, too.”

  The offense fell short of the first down by two yards. The people around us groaned as the kicking unit ran out.

  “Tommy doesn’t look too good.” Elena rubbed her purple-brown gloves together.

  I sighed. “No, he doesn’t.”

  She bumped me with her shoulder. “Well, I’m sure it has nothing to do with you.”

  I looked at her in surprise. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because, if he was still pissed off, he’d be playing the game of his life. What better sport than football to let out all your aggressions?”

  I half-smiled. “Never thought of it that way.”

  She smiled and patted my leg. Defense took the field, determined to keep Minnesota from moving the ball. The fans helped by chanting “defense, defense.”

  “I think Brad is cheating on me.”

  It took a moment for her words to sink in. I was still stuck on “defense, defense.” Besides, of all things she could have said, I least expected to hear that. My mouth dropped open. “What?”

  Elena kept her eyes on the game. “You heard me.” Her voice was flat, emotionless.

  “Yeah, but I can’t believe you said it.”

  She didn’t answer, just concentrated on the game.

  I tried a different tactic. “Why do you think he’s having an affair?”

  She finally looked at me, her eyes as dead as her voice. “You don’t believe me.”

  “No, no, of course I do. It’s just … hard to believe. He seems so crazy about you.”

  The song “Who Let the Dogs Out?” burst out of the sound system. People around us started singing and dancing along.

  Elena raised her voice. “Yeah, in public he does. In private, different story.”

  Her face seemed to crumble, fold in on itself. I put my arm around her. “How long has this been going on?”

  “I don’t know. At least six months. I kept thinking it was all in my head, because he could be so sweet, especially in public. But then … things ju
st kept getting worse. More and more he made excuses about not wanting to spend any time alone with me. We haven’t had sex in I can’t even remember when. And then about a week ago, after the Halloween party … ” Her voice broke. I hugged her.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”

  She straightened. “No, I need to say it. I need to tell someone. I found an earring under our bed the other day. And … ”

  “It’s not yours,” I finished.

  Elena shook her head.

  “Oh God, Elena. I’m so sorry this is happening to you.”

  She sighed. “Yeah.”

  I hugged her again. “Have you said anything to him yet?”

  Her eyes darted back to the game. “No. I haven’t figured out how to bring it up.”

  A couple of Asian students, arms filled with popcorn and drinks, wiggled their way in front of us. One of them spilled popcorn on my lap – the perfect distraction. I brushed off the kernels, making a point of not looking directly at Elena. “Do you have any idea who she is?” Below my lashes, I watched her.

  Elena’s face went very still, her mouth straightened into a thin line. “No.”

  I went back to the popcorn. Elena had never been a good liar – clearly she didn’t take after her lawyer father.

  “Six months this has been going on?” I said, brushing off the last of the kernels. “Oh, Elena, you should’ve said something.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t want to believe it. I kept telling myself everything was all right and I was just imagining problems. And at the Halloween party he was so sweet, I was sure everything was fine between us. Then, two days later I found that earring … I felt so stupid. I finally decided I couldn’t keep lying to myself anymore.”

  The game was nearing the end of the first half. Minnesota had to kick the ball back to Riverview. A black-haired guy in front of me yelled: “Now do something with it, Niccels.” Niccels being Tommy, of course.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  Elena wrapped her arms around herself. “No. Not yet. What do you think I should do?”

  “Talk to him,” I said simply. A paper airplane landed in the hair of an African-American woman in front of us. She put her hand up, discovered the plane, then turned around to glare at us. I held my hands up. “Don’t know anything about it.” She scowled, scanned the seats and went back to the game.