"Cheer up already! It's been a month! How much longer are you going to be down in the dumps?"
Carlos shook Kendall very hard, at least until he could hear Kendall's eyes rattle around a little. Kendall just slumped back in his seat and shrugged.
"You are aware that now, it's not just yourself that's being deprived because of this whole Marguerite thing? That the band, and our careers, are in jeopardy?" Logan informed him.
Kendall raised his eyes, but said nothing.
"Are we missing something?" James asked, leaning against the wall.
"Clearly, we are."
"Say something!" Carlos screamed.
Kendall shrugged again. "What can I say? You know, I'm seventeen years old, and from birth, I've only known about one little sister, but never two. How would you feel, if you found out you had a twin, and that you've lost almost two decades of loving her, and getting to know her?"
"Look, we'd be upset, alright? But you haven't seen or talked to the girl in weeks, so how do you expect to make up for lost time by sitting around moping?"
"What can I do, James? I'm practically never allowed to see her again, so excuse me for being 'mopey'."
"You're mom never really said you couldn't see her again. After she told you about everything, did she say anything about YOU not being a part of her life?"
"Not really... Not explicitly... But what does that have to do with anything, Carlos?"
"Absolutely nothing."
"Then why'd you bring it up?"
"I thought you'd be motivated. Come up with a plan or something." Carlos shrugged.
"Well, I don't think plans are really gonna work this time."
"Then what will? You're telling me, that you are gonna give up your dreams, your life here in Cali, and everything you've worked for, by sitting around watching it disappear, all for a girl?"
"She's my twin!" Kendall said loudly, standing up.
"Then go to her!" James yelled back.
They stood facing each other for a moment, fists clenched, breathing hard.
"Fine," Kendall said, hanging his head, and practically running out the door.
He knocked very hard on her apartment door. He felt like throwing up. No-one answered. He knocked and knocked.
"Marguerite, I know you're in there! I can't run anymore, please, just answer the door..."
She threw the door open. She looked very pale and nervous. The door was cracked in such a way so that he couldn't see into the apartment. He tried to peer around her shoulder, but she just shut the door on her foot in her haste to block his view. He put out a hand to steady her as she teetered on her tiptoes, face contorted in pain. She let out a hushed "ow" as she slipped out the door, slamming it shut behind her. She looked at him angrily.
"Why are you here? You already destroyed my life, so why bother?"
"Destroyed your life?"
"I came here, to Hollywood, for you! For Katie, for m-m-m..." She took a deep breath. "For Mom. For my family. I want my family, can't you see that?"
"I know..." He scratched his forehead. His mother had been going on as if life were normal again, and Kendall knew it was because she had trained her mind to drown out Marguerite, because the guilt of giving up her baby was slowly killing her. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what he could possibly say to his sister to help her feel better. To make things right. So he stayed silent. She didn't cry, and it made him feel a little better.
"Could... could you just come inside, and... talk? To me for a little bit?"
He smiled. And nodded, and followed her inside.
Her apartment was eerily clean. Too clean too sit down on the couch and put his feet up. So he sat on the edge stiffly and tried to look interested at the abstract paintings of dancers on the wall. He peered at her discreetly, but she only sat down on the floor and told him to loosen up. He didn't say a word, only did as she wanted.
She cleared her throat. "So I guess you better start at the beginning."
He just stared at her. "What?"
"Start at the beginning. I think the earliest memory you have will do."
He was still stumped. Not wishing to look like an idiot he cleared his throat. But didn't know what to say.
"Tell me about YOU, Kendall. Everything. Your life, friends, crushes, girlfriends, your favorite teacher, your favorite subject, you favorite COLOR! Everything. Starting with your earliest memory."
Kendall smiled and began.
They talked for a long time. He told her about his life, or what he could remember of it anyway, and she told him of hers. They both tried to imagine what life would've been like with each other.
"You're a hockey player?" she laughed. "Wow, I would never have known."
Kendall threw his chest out and said as manly as he could, "Because I look too strong to play? I mean I do hurt the other players with my brute strength..."
Marguerite laughed and laughed. Kendall drunk in her smile.
"Why are you here? Why did you leave Minnesota?"
"Well, I came here because I was given an opportunity to follow a lesser dream. Singing, performing, playing music." He shrugged and smiled. "I just never thought I would love it as much as I do."
"That's great! It seems like your life has been all smiles and hugs." Her smile was a little weak. "I'm so happy."
"Oh, believe me, it's had its downsides."
"Oh? Like what?"
"The usual. Heartbreak, letdowns, things not meeting your expectations..."
"Yeah. I know EXACTLY what you mean. I mean, just think. If I hadn't have gone to that private dance school I would've probably been in your class at your school. We could've known each other as friends and not known we were twins. How weird would that have been?"
"Yeah." But a little part of Kendall wished she had gone to his school, wished he could've known her before now. Maybe they would be able to take it all in more easily. Or maybe not. They would never know.
"What about you, though? I mean, I know you went to dance school and all. But what about your family? Your... erm, well your other family?"
She shrugged. "Something nagging me in the back of my mind always told me something wasn't right. I mean, they were all like eighty-percent Swedish. Tall and thin, blonde and blue-eyed. I think you can picture my uneasiness as I got older," she replied, gesturing to her dark red hair and freckles.
"Yeah," Kendall said slowly. "So... you always knew? Or you kind of knew? That you were adopted?"
"Kind of. I mean, at sixteen, you try not to think of serious stuff. I guess I hit seventeen and everything was suddenly glaring and begging to be questioned." She shrugged again. "It was gonna happen eventually."
"I guess you're right." He rubbed his arm sheepishly. "Hey. Can I ask you a... a question?"
"Anything."
"Do you miss them a lot?"
"My family back in Minnesota?"
"Uh-huh."
"My mom. A lot. My cousin Carly. She's my age. Only girl in her family." She smiled. "She's great. Like the sister I never knew I had."
Kendall decided now was as good a time as any to say what she probably had been wanting to hear since day one. Some kind of explanation past the one her own mother had been able to give her.
"Marguerite, I am so sorry. That mom didn't... that she doesn't... I mean, she doesn't not want you, that's not it at all..."
"Kendall, it's alright. I got as much a character profile from my mom as I need. I know it was hard for her, and I know she would do anything to forget about it. I just hope some day..." Her lip quivered. She shook her head. "I hope some day, we can be friends. She's everything I thought she would be."
Kendall found tears pricking his eyes again. He would not cry. Not in front of her.
"Don't cry, sweetheart," she said, rubbing his knee and giving him a smile. "I'm glad I have you, though. You're not gonna run out on me again, are you?"
"No," he said, putting his hand on top of hers. "Never again. I promise. I swear."
