12. Gulliver
GULLIVER
“What the fuck?” I whisper beneath my breath as the four of us watch Izabella fucking Rhodes disappear down the corridor.
“That did not go like I thought it would,” Kip says, all traces of amusement gone from his voice.
“What happened?” Thorn asks, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between us.
“Izabella is nothing like her sister,” Davis announces, his voice filled with an emotion that I can’t quite identify but that sounds almost like admiration.
“Not going to lie, my dick’s kind of hard right now.” Kip laughs, reaching down to adjust his junk while he stares at the empty hallway in front of us.
Reaching over, I slap him around the back of the head. “Tell your dick to fuck off, that’s my fiancée,” I growl a moment before a confused laugh falls from my lips.
“Oh shit.” Thorn snickers. “How the fuck did you manage to evade marrying one Rhodes and end up engaged to the other?”
“It’s the perfect plan,” I say airily. “There’s no way I can ever marry Penelope now. Not even high society would overlook me being engaged to one twin, then changing to the other. I just need to make sure that everyone notices Izabella, and then Penelope won’t be my problem anymore.”
“But what about Izabella?” Davis asks.
“What about her?”
“If what she just said is true, you’re kind of fucking her over.” His normally smiling mouth slips into a frown.
“Don’t let the innocent act fool you. She spent hours at my house pretending to be Penelope. She’s an actress, just like her whore of a sister.”
But is she? Even though I didn’t know it was Izabella and not Penelope that night, I knew there was something different about her. If she really is an actress, then she’s not a very good one. But regardless, Izabella is still a Rhodes, and I need to use her to get rid of her parents’ obsession with me. And she’ll be fine…won’t she? Ignoring the pang of guilt that settles low in my stomach, I tighten my resolve.
“Come on, we need to get to class and start spreading the good news.”
The morning classes drag, but as I walk into French, a frisson of excitement fills me. I share this class with Penelope, and I’ve been looking forward to seeing her. Davis nudges me as he walks in behind me, and I know he sees her too.
“Hey, sis,” I call loudly, ensuring everyone in the room hears me.
She ignores me until I pause by her desk, forcing her to acknowledge me. When she looks up, a scowl is etched across her face, morphing her usually polished appearance into an ugly mask that somehow suits her better than her normal expression.
“What?” she snaps. “Are you really still playing this game?”
I laugh. “There’s no game, sis. I love Izabella, and we’re engaged. Why aren’t you happy for us? Our parents have been planning to entwine our families together, and now they’re going to get their wish.” I’m being obnoxiously loud, but I want to make sure that the entire class can hear every word I’m saying.
Penelope shakes her head. “How does your dad feel about your engagement?” she asks, poison dripping from every word.
“He’s over the moon. He can’t wait to spend more time with my beautiful fiancée. She made such an impression when we all had dinner together on Friday night.”
Penelope’s face falls, and she pales slightly. Smiling widely, I reach out and squeeze her shoulder as I pass her, making my way to my usual seat at the back of the class, just as Madam Allard glides into the room.
“You’re playing with fire,” Davis warns me in flawless German.
“There’s no fire left anymore, I just pissed on it,” I reply in the same language. Most kids at GAA speak more than one language, but Davis and I are fluent in both French and German. He also speaks some Swedish and a little Spanish, thanks to traveling with his parents.
Davis shakes his head, and I watch as his amusement fades. “What about Izabella? It kind of feels like you just threw her under the bus again. We both know Penelope isn’t going to let her sister get away with basically stealing her fiancé, even if you never actually agreed to marry her.”
“What’s the worst Penelope can do?” I ask nonchalantly.
When the bell sounds for lunch, I pack my laptop into my bag and follow Davis out of the room. My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, and as I pull it out, I see I have a message from Thorn.
Thorn – She’s in trigonometry, room 215.
With a grin, I pat Davis on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
“Where are you going?”
“To collect my fiancée so we can have lunch.” I laugh.
“Good luck,” he calls to my back as I turn and hurry in the direction of her classroom.
Searching the sea of faces, I expect to find her with the other kids who have just come from trig too, but she isn’t in the hallway. If I had her cell phone number, I’d call her, but instead I find room 215 and peer around the door. I’m expecting the classroom to be empty, but instead I find Izabella still sitting in her seat halfway down the room slowly packing her stuff into her backpack.
With her attention diverted, I take a moment to watch her. It’s weird to look at her and see Penelope’s face, but despite their identical appearance, I can already see the differences between the two girls. Penelope sits up straighter, always wanting to preen, always wanting people to see her. Izabella is the complete opposite; she’s almost hiding. Her hair has fallen forward, covering her face, and she’s bent over the desk, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.
They’re two sides of the same coin, so similar yet so different. For a moment, I wonder how it’s possible that Izabella went unnoticed for so long, but then she looks up, and all thoughts vanish from my head.
Her violet eyes sparkle as she focuses on me, and I swear the color seems even brighter today. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice the color of her eyes during dinner on Friday, but then I deliberately didn’t look at her for long enough to notice anything.
“Are you ready?” I ask, stepping into the classroom as the teacher lifts her briefcase from the desk and leaves, not sparing us a glance.
“Ready for what?” Izabella asks, tucking a strand of hair that’s hanging in her face behind her ear.
“Lunch.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she says politely.
“What do you mean you’re fine?” I ask, taking a step closer.
She sighs. “You’ve had your fun, Gulliver. I don’t want to play this game anymore, it’s not fun for me, and I don’t enjoy being the butt of your jokes, so go and eat and leave me alone.”
“Do you have lunch with the juniors?” I blurt, suddenly remembering that Penelope eats in the cafeteria and that I’ve never actually seen both girls in the same room until two days ago, so there’s no way Izabella can eat at the same time as her sister.
“No.” Her brow wrinkles in confusion.
“So, when do you have lunch?”
“At the same time as you.”
“But your sister goes to the cafeteria every day. She holds court with her minions, and I don’t believe that’s you pretending to be Penelope. So where do you have your lunch?”
“I bring lunch with me,” she admits quietly.
“But where do you eat it?” For some reason, finding out where she eats each day feels really important.
“In a study room in the library.”
“You eat alone?” I snap.
“I’m antisocial,” she says quietly, but it’s obviously a lie. There’s nothing antisocial about Izabella, but for some reason, she doesn’t want people to know she exists. Or maybe Penelope doesn’t want people to know her sister exists. But why? Why would it matter?
“Have you eaten alone every day since you were a freshman?” I ask, needing to know, but unsure why the answer’s important.
She shrugs. “Yeah.”
Anger fills me, and I don’t understand it, but I know I can’t let her sit on her own and eat a bagged lunch, not for one more day.
“Come on,” I snap.
“What?” she cries as I scoop her backpack from the desk and sling it over my shoulder. “Give that back,” she cries again, but I ignore her, reaching for her hand and dragging her behind me as I stomp out of the classroom.
“Gulliver, stop,” she demands.
I don’t stop until I reach my locker, then I release her hand only long enough to stuff her backpack and my stuff into my locker and lock the door.
“Hey,” she protests. “I need my stuff.”
“You can have it back after lunch,” I say curtly, grasping her hand again and heading toward the lunchroom.
“But my lunch is in my bag.” She tries to pull her hand away, but I just tighten my grip on her and drag her along with me, holding her a little tighter than I should but unwilling to let her go.
“Today, my dear fiancée, you’re going to have lunch with me in the cafeteria.”
“No, I’m not,” she snaps, yanking her hand to try to free herself.
“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling maniacally as I pull her toward me so fast that she stumbles forward, clumsily falling into my chest. Making the most of our positions, I release her hand and wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly into my side as I march us through the doors and into the cafeteria.
It feels like the whole room goes silent and all eyes turn to us, but I doubt it’s actually as dramatic as it feels. Without thinking, I spin Izabella in my arms until she’s pressed against my chest, then I dip my face to hers and kiss her.
After what feels like an eternity but is probably no more than a second, she cautiously kisses me back, and though I’d never admit it to anyone, I like it. She feels good in my arms, and it’s not just because she’s a beautiful girl with a hot body. There’s something about this invisible girl, and I have no idea if it’s because touching her and not her sister is the ultimate “fuck you” to her family, or if it’s something more, but whatever it is, I’m enjoying it.
Lifting her up, I hold her to me, our chests pressed tightly together. When I pull back, I hook my finger under her chin and lift her lips up so I can press a soft kiss against them before I turn and smile at the people that are watching our little display.
“She said yes!” I yell dramatically, scooping her off the floor and into my arms, striding across the room to my usual table.
There’s a smattering of applause, mixed in with a little laughter, but I ignore everyone as I lower her into a chair next to Davis, then take a chair from the table behind and place it next to hers, laying my hand on her thigh and gripping tightly to stop her from bolting.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks barely above a whisper, her eyes moving frantically around the lunchroom until they fall on Penelope.
“Because for some reason your twin sister has let you eat lunch alone for three-and-a-half years, and I don’t know why. But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s because she doesn’t want people to know you exist. So, I’m guessing me bringing you in here and making a scene has probably really pissed her off,” I whisper back.
Izabella nods slowly, the sparkle in her eyes dulling to matte purple instead of the vibrant pop of color it was only moments ago. “So, all of this is just about my sister?” she scoffs quietly. “Of course it is.”
I don’t know what she just decided in her head, but she visibly nods, then shrugs. “If I’m here, I might as well enjoy the food. What’s good?” she asks the table, ignoring our incredulous looks. For the first time since I pulled her out of the car this morning, her expression is all Penelope, she’s completely disconnected, and it’s easy to see that she’s trying to act like her sister, mimicking her haughty attitude.
Silently, Kip hands her a menu, and she spends a long, silent moment perusing the choices as we all sit and watch her. When she lowers the menu and finds us all still staring, she blinks slowly, dropping it to the table in front of her.
“What would you like to eat, Izabella?” Kip asks.
“How do we order? I can do it myself,” she immediately replies.
“You’ve really never eaten in here before?” he asks.
She shakes her head.
“It’s an app, but I can order yours if you tell me what you want,” he offers, ignoring my scowling glare.
“Oh, okay. I’d like the blackened salmon and a garden salad, please,” she replies easily. “And a lemonade if they have it.”
Nodding, Kip smiles, pulls out his cell, and orders her food. What the hell? Kip isn’t the guy who orders food for a girl. He normally makes whoever he’s fucking that day order for him. He’s a douche. I mean, he’s my friend, I love him like a brother, but he’s not the type of guy who takes care of anyone else, especially not a stranger.
Incredulous, I turn my attention back to Izabella, but she’s not looking at me anymore. Her eyes are scanning the room, taking in the faces of the people who are watching us, some sneaking discreet glances and others outright staring.
When her sister stands and sashays across the room toward us, Izabella tenses, slouching in her chair as if she can somehow make herself invisible before Penelope gets here.
“Izabella, I sent you a text, but you haven’t replied. Come with me, I need to speak with you,” Penelope says, her voice coldly polite, with an edge of anger so sharp, Izabella actually cringes.
Acting without thought, I reach for Izzy, scooping her out of her seat and into my lap. “Penny, why do you keep trying to steal my fiancée away from me? I told you, you’re going to have to learn to share her now.”
Penelope’s eyes narrow into barely more than slits, and she leans forward, bracing her hand on the table beside me. “Do you think this is funny? This little performance is pathetic, Gulliver, and honestly, I thought this type of behavior was beneath you. You’re embarrassing me, my parents, and you’re embarrassing your own family too. For goodness’ sake, what will people think of poor Izabella when you and I announce our engagement? Even though it’s obvious this is all just a bit of fun to you, people still look to us to set an example for how to behave appropriately,” she hisses, never once even looking at her sister.
My friends, who are all sitting at the table around us, are morbidly silent, and even though I know she hasn’t spoken loud enough for anyone but us to hear, it feels like every person in the room has stopped speaking to listen.
“Penny, dear,” I say in the most condescending voice I can muster, and loud enough that the tables closest to ours can hear. “Even if your twin sister wasn’t sitting in my lap. Even if she hadn’t agreed to marry me this morning. Even if you were the last creature with a cunt left alive on the planet and me marrying you was the only way to ensure the survival of the human race, I can promise you with every fiber in my body and every dollar in my trust fund that I will never, and I mean never, agree to marry you. So, I’m not embarrassing myself or my family or even your family. In fact, the only person who’s embarrassing themselves is you.”
Penelope’s lips purse into a hard line, and she blinks at me like a serpent assessing its prey. Her gaze moves from me to her sister, and her lips curl into a chilling smile that makes me wrap my arm around the girl in my lap protectively.
“Apparently, congratulations are in order, sister, but I think you should check that ancient cell phone of yours. Mom wants to speak to you,” she says coldly, then she turns and struts away, her ass swaying provocatively with each step.
The moment Penelope is back in her seat, Izabella rips my arm from around her and jumps out of my lap and back into the seat next to mine. I can see how badly her hands are trembling as she searches the floor around us for her backpack.
“It’s in my locker,” I remind her.
“My cell phone is in there. This is only going to get worse if I don’t call her back. I’m so fucked, so fucking fucked,” she whispers, her voice shaky.
“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Kip says, reaching across the table and laying his hand reassuringly on her arm.
The urge to slap his hand away and then punch him comes out of nowhere. What the hell? I don’t care about Izabella, she’s a means to an end, that’s it. So where the hell are these protective urges coming from?
“Gulliver will fix this. He’ll explain to your parents that this was just a joke that got taken a bit too far. It’ll be fine,” he assures her.
When she looks up at him, her eyes huge and full of hope, I have to force my fingers to unfurl from the fists I’ve clenched them into. My cell phone rings at the same moment that the server arrives with the food, and a plateful of my favorite wild mushroom and truffle oil pasta is placed in front of me.
Nodding my thanks to the server, I pull my cell from my pocket and snarl when I see my dad’s name on the caller ID. Looking pointedly at Davis, I nod in Izabella’s direction. He nods back and moves over to take my seat when I stand up and head to the exit doors, answering my phone as I go.
“Hi, Dad,” I say deliberately and breezily.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demands, not even bothering to say hello.
“There’s nothing wrong with me. In fact, today has been a pretty great day so far,” I answer churlishly.
“Don’t be a smartass, Gulliver. I’ve had Barnaby and Trudy Rhodes on the phone demanding to know what you’re playing at. They seem to think you’ve very publicly proposed to some girl on the front steps of the school.”
I can’t help the bitter laugh that falls from my lips. “Some girl,” I snap. “Jesus, that fucking family. Penelope has a twin sister.”
“A twin?” Dad asks, his voice annoyed. “What?”
“Yep. Penelope has an identical twin sister. Her name is Izabella. You’ve met her.”
“What are you talking about? I think I’d know if they had another daughter,” Dad hisses.
“Yeah, it was a surprise for me too, but they do. You met her last Friday night because she pretended to be her sister and came to our house for dinner. The girl I proposed to this morning was Izabella, Penelope’s twin.”
There’s silence on the other end of the call until Dad finally speaks. “Gulliver, this isn’t funny.”
“That’s because I’m not joking,” I insist.
More silence follows. “And you’re in a relationship with…what did you say her name was?”
“Izabella, Dad. Her name is Izabella, and…” I open my mouth to tell him the truth, to confess that this was all a joke, but instead I say, “Yes, we’re in a relationship.”
Dad’s exhale is slow and ragged. “So why didn’t I know about this? Was that what our chat last night was about?”
I take a minute before I speak. If I tell him we’re really engaged, this won’t be a joke I can play off further down the line. But for some reason, I just can’t confess that this is all fake. “Yeah, I needed you to understand that I was never going to marry Penelope. I just didn’t want to say it was because I was in love with her twin.” The lie slips easily from my lips.
“Where the hell have they been keeping another kid?” he mutters.
“In plain sight. She’s been at GAA the whole time. It’s so fucked up. She’s a student here, she goes to class, only from what I can gather, the Rhodeses and Penelope all pretend like Izabella doesn’t exist. The girls even ride to school together, and their driver drops Penelope off first, then brings Izzy back just before homeroom starts.”
“What the hell?” Dad hisses. “And you asked her to marry you? Are you sure about this? How long have you known about her?”
I can feel how wide my eyes are, but the words keep pouring from my mouth. “Yes, I asked her to marry me, and she said yes. We haven’t been together long, but you’re always telling me to trust my gut. I was just waiting for the whole Penelope thing to get cleared up before I asked her.”
Dad laughs, and I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips. “Well, at least this way the Rhodeses will still be family,” he says, laughing again a little louder. “I was supposed to be having dinner at the club tonight, but I’ll cancel, and I’ll call Barnaby and set up a family dinner to celebrate your engagement instead. Did you give her the Winslow diamond?”
“Not yet,” I hear myself say.
I know I’m taking this too far, but I just can’t stop. I want to see the look on Mr. and Mrs. Rhodeses’ faces when I tell them I’m engaged to the daughter they hide away. I need them to see and understand that I’ll never have any interest in Penelope. And a part of me feels like they need to see that the daughter they hide away is important enough to flatten their bullshit house of cards.
“Okay, well, I’ll go and pick up the ring from our safe deposit box this afternoon, and you can give it to her tonight then,” Dad says, his voice back to his normal businesslike tone.
“Sounds good,” I say. “See you later.”
“Bye, son.”
“Dad,” I call, planning to tell him the truth.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Kip, Davis, and Thorn will want to be there too. They love Izzy.”
“Sure, I’ll speak to their parents.”
“Okay, bye,” I say, ending the call and sliding my cell into my pocket before I fall back against the wall with a thud. What the hell did I just do? I had so many opportunities to tell him this was all a lie, but I didn’t, and honestly, I don’t know why.
I don’t think I have any real feelings for Izabella. Except since I saw her that first time, I’ve felt this odd sense of protective intrigue, like I need to know why she is the way she is. There’s just something about her, and I don’t know if it’s that she’s managed to stay hidden in plain sight for all these years, or maybe I’m just reacting to the way my dick strains toward her like she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.
I’m pretty sure I’ve just fucked us both over, but I don’t seem to be able to care because I’m not ready to let Izabella become a ghost again. Now I just need to convince her to play along.