It Was You (3 page)

Because I want my own identity. My own life. Because I can't spend one more second with my sister.

“
I just do,” I said instead.

He studied me for a long moment, the frown deepening. “You have a dorm room. We've paid your tuition. That's a boatload of money to walk away from just because you've suddenly decided you don't want to go. And for no good reason.”

“There is a good reason,” I said. I just couldn't tell him. Or anyone else, for that matter. At least not anyone in my family.

He stole a glance at the thick silver watch on his wrist and sighed. “Look, I need to go. Come with and we can talk about it there or we can wait til this afternoon.”

I looked down at the sweats and grubby t-shirt I'd changed into and ran my tongue along my fuzzy teeth, unbrushed and still tasting of vodka. I wasn't going anywhere. Except back to bed.

“
It can wait,” I mumbled.

He shook his head. “No. It really can't. But it's going to have to.” He grabbed his keys off the table and shot me one last frustrated look before he left.

I let my head drop to the table, moaning as my forehead hit the wood.

“
Running scared, are we?”

The sound of Annika's voice startled me. I whipped my head up and instantly regretted the sudden movement.

She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a straw beach bag slung over her shoulder, massive white sunglasses perched on top of her head.

“
I thought you left.”

She smiled. “I did. But I came back. Can't go to the beach without tunes.” She fished her iPod out of her bag and held it up to demonstrate.

“So...” Her eyes narrowed. “Not going to State anymore, are we?”

I didn't answer, just dropped my head back to the table, slowly this time.

“Is this because of Kevin?”

My voice was muffled. “No.”

“He doesn't mean shit to me.” She laughed. “It was all in fun. Abs. No hard feelings, right?”

This time, I couldn't help myself and I didn't care if it would hurt. I rolled my eyes.

“I mean, he was there and I was buzzed and, well...” her voice trailed off. “Well, he is pretty hot...”

And I was interested in him. I liked him. Any self-respecting friend wouldn't touch their friend's crush. A sister should have tread even more lightly.

But Annika didn't tread. She steamrolled me every chance she got.

“
So what, then?”

“
What?”

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “What's your reason? For bailing school.”

I lifted my head off the table and stared at her. “You really wanna know?”

She adjusted the strap on her shoulder. “Of course. You're my sister, aren't you?”

I hated hearing it out loud. Sister. I didn't want that connection to her. And I sure as hell didn't want to spend the next four years having her sabotage my life every chance she got.

I lifted my finger and pointed it at her. “You.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Me?”

“
Yeah.” I nodded.  “You. I don't want to live in a dorm with you. Near you. I don't want to go to the same school with you. I'm not sure I want to be in the same town as you anymore.”

She laughed. “Oh, Abs. You really should have done theater in school. Sooo dramatic.”

“And you really should have taken an ethics class,” I fired back. “Or a 'How to be a better sister' class. Because you suck. And I'm done with you.”

“
Done with me?” She smirked. “Writing me off forever? Whatever. We're sisters, Abs. More than sisters. Twins. I know you better than you know yourself. Remember that.”

I shook my head in disgust. “You don't know me at all.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, a satisfied look on her face. “Yes, I do. And I know one thing for sure.”

“
Oh, yeah? What's that?”

Her smile was treacherous. “You need me. And you won't last a single day without me.”

FIVE

I didn't need Annika. Her comment saying I did made me more determined than ever to show her—and everyone else—that I was better off on my own. Without her.

I dragged myself back upstairs and got in the shower, letting the heat of the water steam out my hangover. I dressed, forced down a piece of toast and four ibuprofen, and drove to my parents office. It was fifteen minutes from our house and along the way, I saw their faces smiling back at me from two bus benches and one billboard. It didn't weird me out anymore. Actually, I couldn't remember a time that their faces weren't plastered around town. They'd been in real estate before Annika and I were born and their business had grown steadily over the years. They were a power couple in the real estate world, working ridiculously long hours, sometimes together, sometimes tag-teaming so one of them would always be available for their girls. I might not have had both parents at Back to School nights or after school games, but I always had one. When they weren't with me and Annika, they were working. Always working. I'd always wondered if they ever got tired of spending nearly every waking minute together, but it seemed to work for them.

Their office was in a long, single-story stucco building near the bay. The windows of their corner office were polished clean, the sun glinting off the mirrored glass. I pulled into the small parking lot next to my mother's red BMW. My dad's matching black one was three spaces over.

I crossed the lot and opened the door to the lobby. Annika and I had spent more weekend afternoons than I could count playing there when we were kids, an array of games and puzzles scattered on the front table. It wasn't just to keep us entertained but a shrewd move on our parents' part to show potential clients they understood what it was like to manage a family.

I craned my neck, checking the office my parents shared. My dad was at his desk, his tie loosened, an open can of Diet Pepsi next to his elbow. A small stack of brochures from the Open House were piled in front of him, along with a scattering of manilla folders.

He looked up from his desk when I walked in. “Thought we were doing this later?”

“
I changed my mind,” I said. “You were right. It can't wait.”

He set his pen down. “Might want to bring your mother in here, then.”

“I”m here,” my mom said from behind me, laying a hand on my shoulder. She smiled at me. “Heard you come in.”

“
I shared with your mother your...change of heart,” my dad said, not bothering to hide his disapproval.

My mom ushered me to one of the chairs across from my dad and she took the other. Her hair, the same shade of brown as mine and Annika's, was swept into a loose chignon. A stray strand tickled her cheek and she reached for it, coiling it around her finger. It was a nervous habit, one she often did when she was discussing something she didn't want to talk about.

“Where is this coming from, Abby?” she asked, her finger tightening around the strand of hair.

I shifted in my seat. I couldn't tell them that I hated their other daughter. Not just their other daughter, I amended silently. My identical twin sister. It would sound too petty, too ridiculous.

And, if I was being honest, this was more about me than it was about Annika. I was the one who wanted to change directions. Shift gears. I was the one who was asking for this. I thought about my conversation with Tana, the one I'd used the night before to convince myself to go and seek out Kevin. I was the one who'd said I wanted a change, that I wanted to take some risks. Changing my mind about going to State a week before classes were due to start definitely fell in that category. But I was the one who needed to take responsibility for changing my mind. Even if the decision was fueled by my twin sister's behavior, I couldn't blame it on someone or something else.

“
This isn't me saying I don't want to go to college,” I said quickly, looking at each of them. “I do. I promise. I already have a plan.”

“
Okay, but back up,” my mom said. “I think your dad and I would like to hear why.”

I leaned back in my chair. “I just don't want to keep doing the same things.”

My mom released the lock of hair wound around her finger and it sprang back to her scalp like a tightly sprung coil. “What do you mean?”

“
Half of our class is going to State,” I said. “Half of the kids I know at other schools are going to State. It's going to be like high school all over again. I mean, I already know most of the girls in my dorm because we all live here in San Diego.”

My mom reached for the lock of hair again, considering my words.

“You've both always said that college was the time to grow up, to experience new things, to try new things,” I said, gaining confidence. “If I'm with the same people in the same place, how is that going to happen?”

My dad's expression was stern, but Mom was nodding.

“I want to enroll at Mesa this semester,” I said, naming the local community college. “Earn my GE's.”

“
And there won't be familiar faces there?” Dad asked, frowning.

I stared past him, at the wall covered with framed pictures of some of the houses they'd sold over the years. Beach cottages, condos, sprawling mansions in La Jolla—they'd probably moved close to a thousand houses in their twenty years.

“No, there will be,” I admitted. “But different familiar faces.” Not the athletes, I wanted to say. And not the people I'd hung out with—with Annika leading the pack—over the last several years.

They both looked at me, waiting for more.

“It'll be cheaper,” I added. “To do GE's there. And while I'm doing that, I'll figure out where I want to go to school.”

Dad's frown deepened. “Are we talking out of state? That'll jump the cost of tuition significantly.”

“I honestly don't know,” I said. “I've never even really looked at other schools. I haven't even looked at UCSD or USD. But my point is I want to look. And if I do decide to go out of state, this would give me time to get a job and save the money to help pay for it.”

“
You don't need a job, honey,” Mom said. “Your dad and I have always said we'd pay for college and we mean it. Wherever you go.”

That was a relief to hear because I really had no idea how I would save that kind of money if I wanted to go to, like, Florida or New York. Not that I did, but still. It was nice to hear.

“I'm more concerned with why this is just coming up now,” Mom said, touching my arm. “We've never heard a word about it.”

They'd never heard a word about a lot of things when it came to my sister. I didn't keep my mouth shut to protect my sister; I did it because I was pretty sure they wouldn't believe me. They saw us squabble and bicker, the stuff that was normal among siblings. But the back-stabbing? The underhandedness of my sister? The sinister side she unleashed only to me? They didn't have a clue.

“I think...I think I just realized it,” I said, which was true. “I just went with the flow. I wasn't thinking about what I really wanted. And it's just hit me this week.” I looked at Dad. “It's why I haven't packed. It's just been this thing, weighing on me. I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound crazy. I just knew something was wrong and I couldn't figure out what it was. Until now.”

My dad's look softened, but he didn't say anything.

“Abby, we aren't going to make you go if you don't want to go,” Mom said. “I think the one thing your dad and I will agree on is that you do have to enroll at Mesa or somewhere. You know how important we think college is.”

I did. They'd been harping on it since we were about twelve years old. Mom was the first to go to college in her family, taking night classes while she and Dad started out in the real estate business. Dad went at the same time and actually continued with a  master's degree after he'd earned his BS in real estate. They attributed much of their success to education and, considering their client list and the perks my sister and I had grown up with, it was hard to argue.

And I didn't want to.

“
I will,” I said. “I'm going up there tomorrow morning.”

My mom raised an eyebrow, then glanced at my dad. “Well? I think she's pretty determined.”

Dad ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Yeah. She is.”

I bristled at them discussing things like I wasn't there. I was eighteen. I didn't need their permission to change my mind. But I wanted it.

“I know you don't like it, Dad,” I said. “I know. And I'm sorry. I don't want to disappoint you. But I also don't want to start at State and be miserable and waste time. Or money. And right now, I'm afraid that's what would happen.”

He nodded slowly. “I know, Abs. I know what your saying.” He toyed with the tab on his soda. “Maybe we all just assumed you and Annika would go the same route. So maybe it's partially our fault, too.”

The stirring of excitement fluttered in my stomach. They were coming around to my side.

Which meant I needed to spring the next part of the plan on them.