"Why haven't you told them?" Claire had been nagging me for weeks now and even though I repeatedly pointed out that I had no intention too, she still pushed it every time we were alone together. At least in this moment I could turn on my hair dryer and drown her out. Use it as an excuse for not continuing the conversation.
When we were little we used to tell each other everything. Our bond was unbreakable and even now I can always read her, even if it wasn't a shared talent. But something changed when we hit the double digits. Almost instantaneously, I began to hate her. The bond that had once been my fallback and reminded me of home became this black hole that devoured anything to do with my twin. Eventually, well by the time we were twelve I knew we would never be able to go back to the way it was. I knew I had to pretend that I didn't resent her very existence. It wasn't her fault. It was mine, always mine. They just wanted us to be model children. Something they could brag about during their business meetings and use our accomplishments as a way to raise their status amongst their own peers. Claire had a knack for never messing up. She never spoke out of turn, had never been late to class let alone ditch an entire day of school, she loved going to all the fancy dinners and willingly let our parents choose her future for her. Well not me. Not even when I was ten. Nine years later my relationship with our parents was pretty much non existent, but Claire still stood by my side. She was a good twin and I know I should be glad to have her…and I am, it's just after being compared to her for my entire existence I secretly wished she would be the one to mess up. Just once.
"Riley, you can't just leave and not tell them. It's not like you're going to Bristol for a visit, you're flying across the country. On top of being in another country, you dropped out of Uni to do it. They're going to find out and then they'll freak out."
Throwing down the hair dryer, I turned on my heels and faced Claire through the bathroom doorway as she sat on my bed with perfect posture. Swallowing my disgust I raised my hand to cut her off before actually speaking. "Claire, they're going to be mad whether or not I tell them first. At least if I'm in another country when I hang up in dad's face there's not much more he can do other than call back. By that time, my phone will be on silent and all parental calls will be blocked. Plus I didn't drop out of University, I just enrolled in online courses and I already have a degree so it's not like I'm really a complete failure. Even though I'm sure in their eyes I'll be whatever's worse than that and then I remind myself that's why they have you."
I watched as she twirled one of her long dark curls around her finger, nervously biting her lip. If mirrors never existed, twins would be the only ones in the world with a clue as to what they look like. Sometimes I found myself examining Claire trying to find something that distinguished us from the other, but when it came to looks, we truly were identical. Neither one of us had any kind of mark other than a freckle that was above both our left wrists. Luckily since our teenage years we've changed enough both personality wise and physically that no one seemed to confuse us much anymore. Although it was fun to make dad's colleagues think they had. That was one of the only redeeming factors of having been born into this family. Secretly I worried a lot about leaving Claire behind because even though we haven't lived together in seven years I was still close by if she needed someone. Our parents kept her locked up in their prison and on a pretty tight schedule. But maybe with me leaving she would be forced to open her eyes and decide if this, if what our parents had planned for her was what she truly wanted. I just didn't understand how she'd willingly be a pawn in their political games. How someone could pretend and agree to be friends with people you would never actually like because of their pedigrees. To me, it felt like being traded or upgraded. But as luck would have it, I was born with a mind of my own and where I thought I was lucky for it. My mom and Claire just thought I was a bitch…and I was but not because I was able to form my own thought but because I always had an opinion. Once when I had stopped by the house to see Claire, my mom was drunk in the foyer and just as calm as could be told me that when I was a little girl she thought I was a bitch because her punishments never worked. They took my door off the hinges and I offered to help. When she gave away my first concert tickets and backstage passes, I made sure I could be the one to give them to the people when they stopped by to pick them up. Of course during our entire talk she stared at the glass of pinot grigio in her hand, sipping it occasionally. Never once did she look my direction.
"I just wished things were different sometimes. You never come home anymore and now you're planning to go travel for a year." I could hear the sadness coating her words as she choked back the real things she wanted to say. "I know you think I'm stupid for putting up with them and we agree to disagree but there's a part of me that knows once you leave…you aren't ever coming back."
Covering my face beneath my palms I sighed and looked towards the ceiling. As if the popcorn paint would spell out what I needed to say to reassure my sister. To convince her that I wasn't leaving her, that no matter where in the world I was she would always mean the world to me. "I'm not trying to desert you but this is something I worked really hard on. I took all those extra classes in school and started Uni a year early so I could make this work. Yeah I get to travel but I damn well deserve it. I am one of three people who were chosen for this grant! Do you even realize how much work I put into my project idea? How many hours I spent perfecting my application? You should be happy for me and proud because I didn't use any of dad's connections to get it."
"Did you use any of his connections?"
The way she said 'his' made me swallow a sudden urge to slap her across the face. I had to literally bite my tongue to keep my answer short. "No, unlike you I can do things on my own."
"But last Summer and during Winter break when you were with them your trying to tell me that you never mentioned the grant or project? Seriously?"
"No, I just told him it was a project for school and I wanted to use them as my center. It makes sense when you think about it. The whole reason I didn't tell him or any of them about the competition for the grant was so they wouldn't pull any strings."
"Well do they know now or are you planning on springing the news on them when they pick you up from the airport?"
"Roll your eyes again and I swear I'll slap you. And yes queen of twenty questions they have all been informed. They had to sign some paperwork for me and I had to sign some paperwork for them. I mean clearly I had to get managements approval or else I'd be stuck here all year and now I'm not."
"Can I tell our parent's after you leave what's going on? Don't you think mom or dad would think you winning the grant was awesome?"
Oh how I wish I could say what I really feel but Claire would never be able to handle it and I doubt she'd understand. The fact that she believes I still have a chance at making our parents happy without conforming to their beck and call amazes me. "No. No. No. No you can't tell them because I want to see how long it takes them to realize we're on two separate continents and no Claire, they won't think my grant is 'awesome," I mocked her with air quotes while rolling my eyes, "they don't approve of dreams and aspirations. Therefore when they find out about my super-secret project- all hell will break loose."
"Why does hell have to break out?"
"Because they'll realize that I still don't need them. That I never did."
The silence seemed to blanket the room, smothering me slowly. I hated these moments. Guilt always tried to creep its way in. That voice in the back of my mind that I once believed to be my conscience began its quiet interrogation. Well do you plan on coming back? What happens if they choose to publish your project? Don't you just once want to make your parents happy or proud? I despised that voice even if I knew it was my own. But I'm not sure it's my conscience talking or something else. I mean, I always assumed your conscience was supposed to help you…not try to destroy you with self-doubt. In all honesty I didn't need any help with that. I could handle self-doubt and loathing all on my own. The knot in my throat stopped me from continuing on, so I just walked past her making a point to look anywhere but at Claire.
"Since you refuse to tell me exactly what your project is I guess there's not much else to say. When does your flight leave?" I glanced over just in time to see her wipe tears from her eyes.
Taking a deep breath I sat down beside her on the bed, making a point to rest the side of my leg against hers. Searching for our connection, trying everything to make her understand that no matter what choices she or I made, we'd always be twins. "Later in a few hours, I arranged for a flight when Dad would be at the Foreign and Commonwealth Operations Gala where they're promoting him."
Her brows crinkled and for a split second I wondered if that's the face I made when Harry tried to explain the conversation he had with me when I was sleeping last Summer. "So you were planning to leave with or without winning the grant? I mean that gala was planned ages ago and you just received your letter a week ago."
"No Claire, that's why I waited a week to leave instead of booking the first available flight."
"Oh."
"Claire, I love you and I'm still going to love you when I'm in America. Please don't sound like this is the end of the world, at least it gives us an excuse to talk more on the phone."
"You rarely answer my calls."
"But I call you back and texting is easier if I'm in a crowded room."
"Do you need a lift to the airport? I can take you."
I shook my head and took her hand in mine. "No, I need you to go to the gala like you're supposed to and not say a word. Anne is going to give me a lift. Plus my bags are already almost all in her car."
"Of course." Claire scoffed rolling her eyes yet again.
"Look I refuse to get into this with you anymore or else I'm going to leave the country pist at you and I really don't want that to happen. So please just go get your hair and nails done, put on the stupid gown and remember not to say a word to anyone. I'll call you during my layover."
For a moment, as we slipped into a hug, I thought about staying. I never would but somewhere in the depths of my soul I wished at least a little piece of me wanted to stay. If not for mending my shattered relationship with my parents then for my bond with Claire which seemed to be breaking ever so slowly instead of gaining strength. But I couldn't, I didn't feel anything but excitement. And that voice in the back of my head reminded me again that I should hate myself for it.