Original Work: You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home, Chapter 6, Part 3
Chapter 6, Part 3
I changed into an outfit that was all my own and neatly folded up the clothes I had gotten just hours before from Madison’s. It was time to cross into enemy territory, whether I wanted to or not.
Because of the music it took almost ten minutes for Emilia to finally answer the door. Or maybe she was just hoping whoever was knocking would go away. The door flew open and Emilia’s brows knitted together when she saw me standing there. I held out the clothes as a sort of peace offering. “I think these are yours.”
Emilia looked down at the clothes and then back up at me. She took them from my hands and tossed them over her shoulder. “Thanks.” We stood there for a minute, looking like mirror images of each other in our uncertainty. I wanted to say something to her, to make it seem like we really were sisters and not just two teenage girls who had been thrown together against our will. “What?” Emilia arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.
I shrugged. “Just wondering if you wanted to talk or something. Catch up?” That sounded as though we’d once known each other and had just been separated. “Get to know each other.” That sounded a little bit better.
“Sorry, Scout, I don’t really feel like talking.” The way she said my name made it sound like a nickname, like calling someone ‘partner’ or ‘buddy’ and not like she was addressing me. “Thanks for the clothes.” She slammed the door and left me standing in the hallway, feeling like an idiot.
Fine, if Emilia didn’t want to talk that was just fine by me. I didn’t really know what to say to her anyway. I didn’t feel like going back and sitting in my silent and perfectly white room and wondering for the millionth time what I was doing here, I headed downstairs, deciding to explore the rest of the house. By the time I reached the living room, I decided that poking around every room and cranny would be like prying and since no one else was currently in the living room, though the television was playing on mute, I figured I would stop the tour here for today. I let my eyes wander around the room as I headed toward the couch; there were pictures of Emilia up on the shelves and on the mantle, photos from years past to recently. These pictures were more intimate than the others in the upstairs hallway and the awards and mementos of recognition here were the type that a child would get in grade school: student of the week, best personality. I went to stand by the mantle, studying the Christmas photos, the pictures of Emilia dressed in various Halloween costumes, Emilia graduating from elementary school, right before she broke into the music business. There was a picture of Linda and Emilia in the middle, leaning against a ceramic mold of Emilia’s kindergarten hands; my father had one almost identical to this in his bedroom, only his didn’t read ‘I love you Mommy’ in barely legible script at the bottom. I’d never made anything with those words on it, even though I considered Beverly a mother and I wondered if Emilia felt the same way about never being able to address any projects to her father. At least I knew the story of my family and where my mother and sister had vanished off to.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone cleared their throat behind me and when I whirled around I saw Garth entering the living room, carrying a plate of pizza and a soda. “I did that so I wouldn’t scare you.” He apologized. “Guess it backfired.”
“It’s okay.” I said, abandoning the mantle now that I’d been pulled out of my reverie. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
Garth sat on the couch. “Enjoying the photographic journey through Emilia’s life?” He questioned with just a hint of a smile.
I sat on the other end of the couch. “It’s like being back home.”
Nodding, Garth smiled. “It has to be weird, I couldn’t imagine having another version of myself out there.” It was weird, only because I hadn’t grown up with a twin, just seen her from afar. Seeing myself…Emilia…walk into a room was still a little strange.
“I’m trying to adjust.” I replied truthfully.
Again Garth nodded knowingly. “There’s a lot to adjust to.”
Before I could assure him that was an understatement, the footage on the TV caught my attention and I focused my eyes on the screen. “Turn it up. Please.” I requested. Garth hit the volume button in time to hear the reporter interviewing Michaela Foxx as she walked down the street ask, “What do you think about Emilia Thompson’s press conference this afternoon?” Whatever Michaela said it was muffled by her motion or edited out by the network because the reporter was speaking again, “She said some pretty nice things about you. You’re talented, she’d like you to be friends-”
Michaela stopped in her tracks and interrupted the reporter. “Emilia Thompson is obviously faking and I’m sure she’s up to something. She’s not going to get the better of me, no one gets the better of Michaela Foxx. This isn’t over, I hope she knows that.” She looked directly into the camera and her dark eyes narrowed. “I’m keeping my eye on you, Emilia, just know that.”
I snorted at the TV. “Geez.” Couldn’t the bitch take a compliment? “So much for that apology.”
Garth shook his head. “There’s no apologizing to Michaela Foxx, or her manager, or her brother…” He took a bite of his pizza. “You know what they say: actions speak louder than words.”
I had the feeling I was going to have to have some pretty vocal actions to avoid stepping on Michaela’s toes.
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