9. Izabella
IZABELLA
Anxiety and terrified nervous energy thrums through my veins like Pop Rocks as I sit in my room and wait for the fallout from everything that’s happened today. Our secret is out because of me. I’ve been upstairs for over an hour now, and I know Gulliver left a while ago because I watched him stride down the front steps and climb into a town car.
I don’t understand why they haven’t come upstairs to scream or shout or punish me yet. I actually think this fearful waiting might be worse than the accusations, implied guilt, recriminations, and shaming that I’m expecting. But everything is too calm, too quiet.
Maybe they managed to convince Gulliver that it’s not a big deal. All he knows is that there are two of us and that I’m basically a recluse. He has no idea that I’m helping my sister cheat at school so that she can maintain her grade point average. Knowing Penelope has an identical twin might have been a shock, but it’s not life-altering.
Some of the fear and tension dissolve, and I let my shoulders relax a little. Gulliver knowing that I exist, isn’t the end of the world. In fact, maybe it could be a good thing—a secret between him and my sister that will allow them to connect over a shared confidence.
Relaxing a little more, I pull my homework from my backpack and settle down at my desk to start it. None of it is due for a few days, but I need to be up to date on my own work because, despite my moment of rebellion today, I know there’s no way I’ll be brave enough to ignore Penelope the next time she needs me to attend her classes for her.
I lose track of time as I busy my mind with algebra and iambic pentameter, until a knock at the door startles me, causing me to jolt and knock my notepad to the floor.
“Come in,” I call, expecting Mrs. Humphries to appear, but instead my mother steps into the room, her expression unreadable.
Slowly rising from my chair, I take a step away from my desk and swallow thickly.
“Would you like to explain how it is that Gulliver Winslow came to follow you home this afternoon?” she asks, her voice so calm and cordial that goose bumps pebble over my arms.
“I…I…” I stammer. “I was walking through school to meet Mark, and Gulliver came up behind me. He knew I wasn’t Penelope, and I just…” I trail off, unwilling to admit that I was shouting my own name out, to remind myself that I still existed.
“How did he know you weren’t your sister?” she asks coolly.
“I don’t know. He just knew. He said I moved differently, and I didn’t know what to say,” I blurt, the words falling from my mouth in a rush.
Her expression softens, and for a moment, I see a glimpse of the woman who’d bring me dolls from her trips and coo over how beautiful I looked in pretty dresses when I was a kid. But it’s gone almost as quickly, a coldness hardening her features. “You won’t speak to him again; you won’t make people aware of your presence at GAA. Nothing changes, do you understand?”
Nodding, I clamp my lips together to stop myself from speaking.
Smiling, Mom takes four purposeful steps forward until she’s directly in front of me. Lifting her hand, she runs the back of her knuckles over my cheek, tenderly pushing a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. She makes a soft chuckling sound, and the smile slips from her pink lips a second before she grabs the end of my ponytail and yanks hard enough that my eyes instantly water. “Don’t ever risk your sister’s future by ignoring her calls or messages ever again. Penelope is the key to everything, and I will not let you ruin her chances of success because you’re a selfish little cunt. No one is interested in you, child. No one cares if you’re at that school, no one cares what grades you get or what you plan to do after you graduate. You are nothing and no one of consequence, and if you are the reason your sister’s grades slip to anything below perfect, I will make you pay for it. Do you understand?”
Tears fill my eyes, pain blooms from my head, and my heart hurts from the anger and truth in my mom’s words, but I don’t cry.
A bright smile curls the corners of her mouth, and I see the true evil beneath her beautiful fa?ade. “I know you think you’re going to run off to England after graduation, but that won’t be happening unless you do as you’re told. From now on, you’ll attend all science, English, and math classes in your sister’s place.”
“But what about my own classes?” I cry before I can stop myself.
Sneering, Mom lets go of my hair and steps back, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her skirt. “Honestly, Izabella, how many times do I have to say it? No one cares about you.”
With her words hanging in the air, she turns and walks out of my room without a backward glance, but hours later, her words are still playing on repeat in my head.
“No one cares about you.”
It’s not like this is new information to me or that I haven’t felt like that for years, but to have her spell it out so blatantly hurts so much more than I expected it would. Would she still feel this way if Dad had been named as the beneficiary of the Rhodes’ fortune, or granddad, like he should have been? Would I just be one of the Rhodes twins then, instead of the inconvenient, unwanted second child?
Crawling into bed, I try to ignore the what-ifs that are taunting me. It doesn’t matter how things would have been if Great-grandfather had picked someone else to jump through hoops for his money. He picked Penelope, and the consequences of that choice have been snowballing ever since, making my sister more important and me more insignificant with every passing day. It doesn’t matter how much I wish things were different, they’re not. I’ve spent too much time literally walking in my sister’s shoes, and I’m glad it was her name, not mine, on that godforsaken will, but I never agreed to give up my future for hers.
Leaving after graduation was the key to reclaiming my identity, and having Mom threaten that has rocked me to my core. I was scared when Gulliver called my name, but a part of me was excited to have one more person in the world see me and know I’m not my sister. Now I wish I could turn back time and answer Penelope’s stupid text message. Then maybe none of this would have happened.
A wave of hopelessness washes over me, and tonight I can’t ignore it. I can’t pretend or distract myself, so instead, I squeeze my eyes shut and let a handful of tears fall. In the morning, I’ll be braver, stronger, but for tonight, I allow myself to be weak.