Original Work: You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home, Chapter 3, Part 1

thefinalgirl (62)in #writing • 8 years ago

Chapter 3, Part 1

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve. Got. To. Be. Freaking. Kidding. Me.” When she found a sentiment, it seemed Emilia was going to stick to it. Those had been the only words she’d uttered since she’d set eyes on me nearly half an hour ago, though she did do a far amount of glowering and scowling, her expressions aimed not only at me but to our mother and anyone else unlucky to be around her.

Though I had to admit I understood where she was coming from. Though I had seen Emilia dozens and dozens of times on TV or in the magazines, being face-to-face with my identical twin sister was a bit of a shock; I’d only seen my reflection this clearly in the mirror, but now I was standing in the middle of an incredibly spacious kitchen, no mirror in sight, and I could see every one of my features perfectly. It was a little unsettling and surprising at first, but at least I had known about Emilia’s existence. I couldn’t imagine how Emilia was feeling, suddenly being confronted not just with a sister, but one who looked exactly like her. Though our meeting wasn’t exactly generating sitcom laughs at the moment.

Emilia kept giving me the once over, though I couldn’t tell if it was because she still couldn’t believe what she was seeing or because she wanted to strangle me right there on the linoleum. I hadn’t said much of anything since Linda and I had gotten back and I was feeling a little bit overwhelmed; if the abrupt meeting with my twin sister wasn’t enough, the size of the house where she’d been living was all it took to shock me into silence. I had to admit, up until this moment, I’d sort of thought houses like this only existed in TV shows and movies and were cleverly constructed sets. But obviously I was wrong and I’d only seen the hallway, a bit of the living room and kitchen. There had been a winding staircase that led to at least one upper level right to the left of the door and every inch of it had been perfectly polished and looked like it had never been walked on. The bit of the living room I had seen was so well furnished it looked like a furniture catalogue and I couldn’t help but notice the huge flat screen TV that would have immediately drawn the attention of every male I’d ever come across.

Given the awkward state of the conversation at the moment, I’d had some time to get to know the kitchen pretty well, especially because my eyes needed a break from staring at myself. I was finding it very doubtful that the kitchen had ever been cooked in, even though every appliance, right down to the microwave, was the latest and state of the art. Everything was just too clean and white, as though it was purely for appearances. I would have been floored to learn that Emilia could actually cook and I suspected this might be the most time she’d ever spent in this room.

It was quickly becoming clear that Emilia hadn’t had any idea that I was about to walk through the door, a fact that was starting to dawn on Linda. She turned to look at Garth Cook, who was doing his best to remain away from the any altercations, should they arise. Garth was a middle-aged man, perhaps a little younger than my father, with an expensive suit, though he somehow still managed to look casual despite his attire. He seemed perfectly at home in this huge house and I had the feeling one, if not several, of the large rooms I had yet to see belonged to him. Being well-kept was only one of many ways to inspire loyalty, but it was the most successful, as far as I was concerned. Not to mention the fact that he actually seemed to genuinely like Linda, because he kept staring at her when her attention was otherwise occupied, though when she turned to face him now, a frown on her lips, he quickly averted his gaze for a different reason.

“I thought I asked you to fill her in on what was going on.” Linda said, her voice level but letting Garth know that she was attempting to contain her emotions. “We had a long flight, plenty of time.”

Garth held up his hands, palms upward, a feeble shrug. “I tried, but she wasn’t listening.” I didn’t find it that hard to believe. “And I’ve been on the phone with Michaela Foxx’s agent all day, her car insurance agency, her brother…” He glared at Emilia to let her know that he wasn’t too pleased with the conversations he’d been having.

But Emilia didn’t seem to care much about Garth’s troubles. “He didn’t say anything about there being a clone.” She informed her mother in a sharp tone in a voice that sounded so much like mine but very different at the same time. I couldn’t come up with that much anger if my life depended on it, but I had the feeling Emilia did it all the time.

“She’s not a clone.” Linda moved toward Emilia, which seemed to relax Garth slightly. “She’s your sister. I know I should have told you a long time ago but-”

Emilia interrupted. “What she is doing here?” Her eyes darted over to me again and she scowled. Obviously my existence wasn’t what was bothering her, it was the fact that I was standing her house that was troubling my sister. “Somebody better explain to me what’s going on.” She crossed her arms over her chest, looking from Linda, to me, to Garth and finally back to her mother. “Now!”

At the moment, I really couldn’t blame Michaela Foxx for dumping her drink down Emilia’s dress.

“Emilia, I brought Scout here-”

Before Emilia could even finish a sentence, Emilia interrupted with a snort of laughter. “Scout,” She repeated. “What kind of name is that.” She scoffed, shaking her head and giving me a pitying look.

I glared at her. I didn’t take kindly to people remarking on my slightly unusual name. Would you? “It’s from a novel, a very famous one.” Obviously Emilia wasn’t much a reader. “Your name is from literature too.” Emilia and Shakespeare didn’t seem to be very well acquainted.

“Thanks for the lesson.” Emilia snapped with a roll of her eyes. “I feel smarter all ready.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. I wished I had a drink to throw in her face.

Linda quickly intervened. “Emilia, enough. This is very important.” Emilia grudgingly looked over at Linda, a scowl still on her face. “Your behavior is getting completely out of hand, your career is suffering and in this town, you can’t afford to be unpopular even for a minute, there’s always someone ready to snap up your spot.” Emilia’s face changed slightly, as though she knew the truth to what her mother was saying, but the scowl remained in place. “I don’t know how many times I have to sit here and give you the same lecture, but it’s obvious that my words aren’t getting through to you. I mean, ruining that girl’s car? What were you thinking?!”

“I didn’t ruin it.” Emilia retorted. “I just broke off the mirrors. She ruined my dress!”

Shaking her head, Linda held up a hand. “So I’m tired of talking to you, Emilia, because you’re not hearing me.” Emilia rolled her eyes. “You need some good press, you need people to like you, you need to clean up your image. Obviously you’re not capable of doing that yourself.”

Suddenly, Emilia’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious. Mom, please don’t say what I think you’re about to say.” Linda opened her mouth but Emilia cut her off with a harsh laugh. “You can’t be serious. You don’t actually think that girl right there can be me.” She laughed again, shaking her head. “That’s a riot.” I felt my eyes narrow into the glare of all glares but that only made Emilia laugh harder. “We might look alike, but we are nothing alike.” She informed me, the good humor leaving her voice.

“Exactly.” Linda said simply and Emilia and I both looked in her direction. I was surprised by that single word but Emilia seemed to be far more pleased than she had since I set foot inside the house. She seemed relieved and satisfied that Linda had realized this whole thing was going to be resolved so quickly. “We don’t want her to be you. We her to better than you.”

Obviously that was not what Emilia was expecting. Her mouth dropped open again, though there was far more genuine surprise on her face this time. She stared at her mother for several minutes, completely thrown by her words and lost as to what to say. Garth smiled, though he tried to hide his reaction; I met his eye and he winked at me.

“Now that I have your attention.” Linda remarked smugly. “Scout is here to do all the things you seem incapable of doing. She’s going to clean up your image but being the nice and polite person I tried to raise you to be.”

Narrowing her eyes, Emilia shook her head. “That only works if I agree to it. And I don’t.” Surprise.

Linda arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Emilia, there are measures I never wanted to take, though, in hindsight, I should have taken them a long time ago. Ever heard of house arrest?”

Emilia crossed her arms over her chest, scoffing. “You can’t force me to do this.” She said snippishly, sounding much more like a child than a sixteen-year-old girl. “I won’t sing.”

“We’ll see.” Linda replied and I had to hand it to her, she sounded pretty confident. But I thought that Emilia had a point; this whole thing would be for naught if she wouldn’t perform. Then it wouldn’t matter if she had the cleanest record in the state and had people stampeding over one another to buy tickets to her show; if there was no performer, there was no performance.

Seeing that she wasn’t intimidating her mother at the moment, Emilia turned her glare on me. “What’s in it for you, huh? Never mind, that’s a stupid question.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sure no one twisted your arm to get you here, who wouldn’t want to live my life?”

Now it was my turn to scoff. “Yeah, it’s very enticing. Nothing says fun like getting faced with charges of battery.” I rolled my eyes at her.

Emilia took a step toward me. “Listen, Scout.” The way she said my name made it sound like an insult in itself. She jabbed a finger at my face. “You don’t know a thing about me and you don’t have what it takes to live my life. So why don’t you go back to whatever hick town you came from; I’m sure your cousins are missing you.”

Okay fine, this was not the hospitality I was expecting. Not like I was anticipating Emilia to welcome me with open arms, but this was just too much. It was obvious to tell where I wasn’t wanted and I still wasn’t too jazzed about this idea in the first place; Emilia’s reaction was more than enough to tell me that it was time to just head home. “I came here to help you, because obviously, you need help, an intervention maybe. But now, I really don’t care what happens to you.” I picked up my suitcase, which had been sitting at my feet and slipped the strap over my shoulder. “It was great to finally meet you, sis, I’ll send you a postcard when I get back to the farm.”

Without another word, I marched out of the kitchen, heading for the front door, not bothering to listen to Linda when she called out for me to stop. Right before I reached the door, I heard her snap to Emilia, “I hope you’re happy now,” to which Emilia replied in the affirmative. Well, that was just fine with me; it was Emilia’s life and career, let her ruin it, what did I care? And when the news reports came in that Michaela had killed Emilia in some starlet grudge match, I wouldn’t feel bad about routing against family.