Get Even

by Amanda Heath

  He was there, sitting on my apartment stoop waiting for me with sad eyes after Tate left. He held me against his chest and let me cry for I don’t know how long. I remember his black eye now, one he must have gotten from Tate.

  My breathing becomes shallow and I think I might faint.

  I see him paying for my car to get fixed when I thought Sarah made him do it. But I had called him that day, not her, because she was at work. I see him standing right behind me whenever Tate was around and how tense they always were.

  Now…

  I see me on top of him and that star-filled gaze as I kissed him to get back at Sarah. The way his dick got harder and his fists tightened on the bed to keep them from touching me.

  I see his pissed-off face the morning after I left Tate’s the first time. I see my shirt and bra neatly folded on the end table. I see him glaring at Tate when Tate first came back into our lives. I see him telling me to stay away from Tate because it was nothing but heartache waiting to happen.

  I feel Max surrounding me after Sarah died. I thought it was because he was hurting and needed comfort, but he was actually comforting me. I see the conversation we had the night I slept next to him. How he told me he loved her but he couldn’t forgive her for the things she did. How she wasn’t as good as me. I was mad at him for saying that, but I was blind.

  It seems I was blind to a lot of things.

  Nine

  Max

  The first time I ever saw Farah Gentry I was in awe. It was all in her eyes. She may have this gorgeous face but you can’t even take all that in because you’re too involved with looking at her eyes. They remind me of light blue skies right after a summer rainstorm. Then you have this deep denim blue outer ring around her irises. I love those eyes. You can find anything you want to know in them. I found myself looking into those so many times over the years, just getting lost. They rarely ever stared back because she was too obsessed with my brother. I didn’t blame her one bit.

  That’s the thing though; I’ve never blamed Farah for anything. I know guys who take out their frustration in the wrong way. You have this feeling you can’t express and you have no idea how to get rid of it. You spend all your time pissed off because you said the wrong thing and now the girl wants someone else.

  I screwed up though. I was cocky that first day I met her. I thought I had everything she could ever want. I mean, I’m sexy and I’m not afraid to admit it. My father was a sexy devil himself back in the day and I have his face. But so does my older brother.

  I didn’t pay attention to those eyes that first day. I was struck with their beauty, yeah, but I didn’t look into them too deeply. I just wanted her to notice me, give me a shot at everything she was, is.

  Then I did look into them and I figured her out in seconds. She’s probably denying that claim but, nonetheless, it’s the truth. She hides those shadows well but I’ve gotten good at finding them. My brother is the king of hiding his shadows. He thinks by dressing professionally and keeping his secrets close that he’s mysterious or some shit. He’s not. Back then, all Tate wanted was to get laid and hurt people. He couldn’t stand all that anger and despair he had inside of himself. He wanted everyone to hurt just as much as he did. I think it’s pointless, the way he lived his life but I couldn’t talk sense into him, no one could.

  Farah and Tate were never right for each other. Farah had been hurt enough. I could see that in her eyes. She hid this overbearing pain and depression, I’m not sure if she even realized it. I knew Tate would hurt her, I knew he had the power to destroy her. I couldn’t stop it, even though I saw it coming from miles away. People will do what they are going to do. You can talk to them, you can tell them what’s going to happen if they follow the path they’re on, but unless they have the willpower to change or see what’s in front of them, there is not a damn thing you can do about it.

  I saw what Tate was doing from the moment we both met her. We always had this weekly dinner at Roadhouse. We lived together, we were best friends, but then again, we weren’t. What best friend would take the girl you’re into right from under your nose?

  I wasn’t surprised, though, because like I said, Tate liked to hurt people. He wanted all the pain he felt surrounding him to be in those he had in his life. That’s probably why I took a lot of it. I was the little brother he never wanted.

  That’s probably when Tate’s pain started. The day my father married my mother and then had me. I wonder if he felt looked over or left out. I know my mother tried to be there for him, tried to be a mother to him because his own was so far away. He wouldn’t let her though and that’s his fault. My mom is the shit.

  Then there was Sky. She was this little beauty he met when he was fifteen. They lost their virginities to each other. They spent every moment they could together and, to this day, I’ve never seen my brother that happy. Sky completed him. She made him whole. I know they were young but they were it for each other. She was the sweetest thing that ever lived. She was his exact opposite and would never have hurt a fly. She made him better without a cost to herself and he cherished the ground she walked on.

  They had to go to that party though. They had to get drunk. Tate had to get her home before her parents woke up and she would have gotten into a lot of trouble. Her parent’s probably would have made them break up.

  The police say he fell asleep at the wheel and slammed into a light pole at eighty miles an hour. I think he knocked the power out for six blocks. Sky’s airbag didn’t deploy and she slammed her temple hard enough into the dashboard to kill her.

  Tate didn’t find out until the next day when he woke up. It still brings tears to my eyes when I think of what my parents had to tell him. He screamed for so long they had to sedate him. I was thirteen at the time and I’d never seen anyone break like that before. He didn’t speak for weeks and for years he had this vacant look in his eyes. By the time I was eighteen and ready to start college, he woke up a little. But who he woke up as was not the person who lost Sky that day.

  She would be ashamed of him now. I know she wouldn’t have loved the Tate that walks around out there. She wouldn’t understand why he became who he is now. She wouldn’t have been anywhere near him.

  It hurt me when I walked into our shared apartment and found a black bra and a Roadhouse shirt lying on the hall floor. I wasn’t stupid, I knew who it belonged to. I wanted to run into his room and ask him why? Why would he do that to me? I’d talked about how much I wanted her. I told him I thought she had the potential to be my Sky. That’s actually probably why he did it. If he couldn’t have his Sky, then why the fuck could I have mine?

  The next morning I found Farah getting into a car outside while I was getting ready to leave. It felt like a shot to the heart even though I knew she had slept with my brother. I mean, I could hear them and I saw the shirt. That’s the first time I ever hated my brother.

  I went into his room after she left and I punched him in the face. That’s the first time I ever hit my brother and it wouldn’t be the last. He had no excuses to give me because Tate didn’t know what he was doing. That’s pretty much the only thing Farah and Tate have in common. They have no explanation for the reasons they do anything. They can’t see beyond their own pain to those around them.

  I walked around for six years in love with her. I had to see her pretty much every day once I started dating Sarah. I had to pick up the pieces when he left Farah and I had to pick them up again once Sarah died.

  That’s the thing about love though. You would do absolutely anything for the people you love, or at least I hope you would. Farah had a piece of my heart from the moment I met her. She has this quiet voice and beautiful soul. I watched her struggle every day for so long and I couldn’t tell her that someone did care. I couldn’t tell her that someone wanted her happiness above their own.

  But she didn’t want me. That’s a tough pill to take and it’s even harder to live with when the love just won’t go away. I used to pray it would end. I
used to pray that one day I would see her and she would just be my wife’s twin sister.

  That never happened.

  Why love Farah when I barely knew her or even after I fell for Sarah? Because Farah is the only person I’ve ever met who choked the breath right out of my lungs. She made my head spin and my dick hard. Her eyes spoke to me, her strength spoke to me, and her love for her sister spoke to me. There was no one more precious to Farah than Sarah. She also loved my stupid brother even though all he ever did was hurt her. She loves her parents no matter what they put her through. She loves my son just as much as Sarah and I do. She’d give her last dollar to a homeless man on the street if he asked.

  When life handed Farah nothing but shit, she went on. She lived and she never let that pain make her into something ugly. Love doesn’t care who you are or what life is giving you, it sneaks right in and bitch slaps you. It makes you crazy and stupid. It just doesn’t give a fuck if you can’t be with that person and it could care less if you also fall in love with that person’s twin sister.

  I don’t care if you don’t believe me. I don’t care if you shake your head right now and call me a liar. I loved both of those twins equally. Farah might be the one I fell for first, but Sarah snuck right up in there herself. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It did though and I made the best of it. I hid my feelings for Farah from everyone because I knew that was a disaster waiting to happen. I knew if Sarah or Farah ever knew, it would be the end of it.

  I couldn’t lose either of them in my life. I need them around to be happy and I needed them around to simply live. They completed me. Yeah, it hurt and I wished it would all end, but it never did.

  I wasn’t particularly nice to Farah. I didn’t want her to see. I didn’t want her to suspect. I didn’t want her to know because that would mean I could lose Sarah. I chose to hide it though, instead of being honest. It makes me a bad person because I never wanted to be considered a liar in my relationships. I wanted everything out in the open but it makes everything better that way.

  But I couldn’t hurt Sarah. I didn’t want her to think I chose her to be with because I couldn’t have Farah, because that’s not what happened. Tate chose for all of us. He took that decision out of everyone’s hands when he brought Farah back to our apartment and fucked her.

  He almost screwed it up that night. I lied about that too. I knew what they did in there.

  Looking back, I realize I lied about a lot of things. I never schemed though. I never manipulated. I never did any of the things Sarah and Tate did to hurt Farah. Yeah, lying and keeping things from her, that was wrong. That shouldn’t have happened.

  I couldn’t bear to hurt her though. I couldn’t see any more pain in her eyes. There was way too much as it was. It hurt me too and I will never forgive myself.

  While Farah kind of slapped me in the face with the way I fell in love with her, Sarah slowly crept her way into my heart. I didn’t see it coming and I had no way to stop it.

  I’m not going to lie and say I slept with Sarah that first night because I thought she was a good girl or anything. I knew she had issues and while I didn’t know what they were, I didn’t really care at that point.

  I slept with her because she looked like her sister. They might have been identical in looks but their hair was always different and they dressed completely different. Farah likes band t-shirts and blue jeans. She hardly ever dresses up or wears any different kind of shoe from chucks. Sarah on the other hand liked bright colors; skirts and jeans, and flats, high heels and tennis shoes. I slept with her that night because I could imagine she was Farah for one night.

  I know that makes me a shitty person but once we got going, I knew she wasn’t Farah and I couldn’t pretend she was. Sarah was always her own person. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her. And it was amazing until Farah stormed in. I guess she could see that Tate was acting weird and I found out later he told her they made out. I don’t think she knows to this day that Sarah and Tate slept together. I wish I didn’t know. The four of us make up one big fucked-up situation. I wouldn’t trade my time with either of them though.

  I thought I was crazy with the way I was pining after Farah, but when she kissed me after tossing her sister off of me, I knew I wasn’t. I knew what I felt for her was real the second her lips touched mine. Then she grinded on my dick and I about came all over her clothes, but I held off because even though I had her where I wanted her for a second, I still couldn’t tell her how I felt.

  Maybe I was a coward. Hell, what am I saying, I’ve been a coward since the day I met her.

  That night ended with Sarah leaving in tears and screaming at Tate, while I sat in my bedroom on the verge of tears because I couldn’t understand how everything got so fucking screwed up. Here we all were hurting the only person who didn’t deserve it. We were all monsters but in different ways.

  Tate and Sarah should never have slept together.

  I should never have slept with Sarah.

  And Farah should never have been put in that situation to begin with.

  I could have chosen to be depressed. I didn’t because I finally had a chance to get over Farah and move on with my life. I had the chance to finally find a girl who I could actually have without worrying my brother or her sister would screw it all up.

  Then Sarah changed everything. She started texting me. She surprised me because I kind of thought she was a huge slut. I know it’s horrible to say that about the woman who became my wife, but even she called herself that. You can’t sleep with two brothers willingly in one night and not expect some name-calling.

  In those texts though, she apologized for putting me in that position. She truly felt remorse for her actions and she wanted to make amends. So I started texting back and, before long, I knew everything I needed to know about Sarah Gentry.

  I knew her favorite color was yellow, her favorite movie was The Breakfast Club, her favorite type of music was pop and R&B, and I knew she loved her sister more than life itself. She liked to go for walks because they freed her head and she liked to drive her car fast because it gave her a rush. She thought my brother was a piece of shit and she hoped Farah never forgave him. She thought I was sexy and the nicest man she ever met and she hoped that maybe we could get to know each other better without the past affecting us.

  I wanted that too. She was funny and sweet. She was smart and so full of life. She had this love of life I had never seen from anyone before. She was happy just to wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night. She loved animals and had always wanted a cat but her mom was allergic and she didn’t have the time to get one since she moved out of her parents’ house. I knew she wanted to be a teacher because she had this English teacher in high school that inspired this love of it to her. She always said it was a great day when you walked into school happy to be there because someone was excited about teaching students and it showed.

  As the months passed and turned into a year, I knew without a doubt she was who I wanted to spend my life with. She was affectionate in bed and out. We held hands wherever we went and she used to kiss me when I walked in the door or when I walked out, even if we were fighting. I soaked it up because she made me feel whole, even if my heart wasn’t completely hers. She put the yin in my yang and I couldn’t ask for more.

  We did everything together. From sitting on the couch watching stupid romantic comedies to walking down to the park quietly so she could think. I moved into her apartment two months after we started dating and I couldn’t remember a time I was more in love. Even though Sarah and Farah weren’t speaking. I think in some ways Sarah was trying to replace Farah in her life. I’m sure she found me lacking.

  Some girls, you don’t know what they are thinking or if you can trust them because they keep all their secrets close to their heart. You never had to worry about any of that with Sarah. She would tell me every minute of her day when she got home and I was excited to listen. I could listen to her talk for hours.
I could watch her for hours too. The way she moved was magical, like there were clouds under her feet. I used to tell her regularly that she should have been a dancer.

  Then I found out about her parents and the hell she and Farah endured growing up. Fuck, it broke my heart and I wanted to go over to their house and hand them their asses. I wanted to protect her, so I refused to let her go over there without me. I couldn’t do the same for Farah but, then again, Farah never went over there.

  I couldn’t imagine the life they had growing up because my parents loved me unconditionally. They made sure I knew I was loved and they never made me feel like shit the way Farah and Sarah’s parents did. I knew I could count on mine; they couldn’t and that was fucked up. I promised Sarah if we ever had kids that we wouldn’t be like that. She replied that she knew because there was no way I could ever treat another person like trash. She said that a lot actually, that I was nice to everyone…well except for Farah.

  My mom instilled that in me. Treat others the way you want to be treated. And I do. I refuse to be mean to someone just because I feel like it or because it’s what everyone else is doing. I always had a problem with bullies in school and I got into a number of fights because of it.

  One day, Sarah was waiting for me on the couch in our tiny apartment and there was a little white stick sitting on the coffee table. She told me the birth control must have failed. She was in tears but only because she wasn’t ready for a baby. We weren’t married. She knew that I wasn’t going to run away just because I knocked her up, even if I didn’t love her, but I did. God, I loved her.

  I asked her to marry me on the spot because I didn’t want our kid to have a different last name from its mother. She said I was only asking because she was pregnant. Then I went into our room and pulled the box out of the dresser. I told her I’d been sitting on it for a while; I just couldn’t find the right time or day because we were both so busy with work and school. “I love you. I couldn’t ever imagine marrying anyone else and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Marry me,” I said gently while she cried. Those tears changed from sadness to happiness and we had sex all over the apartment because we just couldn’t stop touching each other.