The Originals

Page 34

Bet’s cool, and Harper seems to love the idea of pizza, so Sean and I set out to get food. We take my car, because his is parked in a good spot; he tells me directions to a pizza place in University City.
“We can’t go to my favorite place; Dave works there,” I say.
“Ah, the dreaded Dave,” Sean says. “Did Ella have fun at the dance?”
“I think so,” I say. “I haven’t had much chance to talk to her about it.”
“Did you have fun at the dance?” he asks, looking over at me before adjusting the music dial.
“The most fun ever,” I say honestly. “Thank you.”
We’re pulling into the lot of the pizza place when my cell rings.
“Get back here!” Ella whispers. “Mom’s home!”
“Oh my god!” I shout. A car honks behind me because I’ve just stopped driving in the middle of the road. I pull forward and to the side. “Why?”
“I have no idea,” Ella says. “I’m hiding in your bathroom. I ran up here when we heard the gate opening and saw that it was her. Bet’s downstairs—she told her that I went out for ice cream with Dave.”
“Oh my god!” I say again. “She’ll know.”
“No, she won’t; just act like me when you get home. And besides, you’re the one who’s all about taking risks lately. Wasn’t it you who said, ‘Mom’s lying, too, so who cares?’ ”
“It’s different when I’m the only one who’s going to get yelled at,” I say, blowing out my breath. “But I guess if she recognizes me, then tonight’s the night.”
“Okay,” Ella says. “If I hear trouble, I’ll come down. If nothing happens, I’ll sleep in your bedroom and you sleep in mine.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling sick about the plan.
We hang up and I update Sean, who looks a little too excited by the prospect of everything coming out. “It’s going to be fine,” he says. “Want me to go with you?”
“No!” I say. “That’ll make it even worse.”
He opens the door and starts to get out.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
He smiles warmly. “I’ll take the bus back home,” he says. “I need to get pizza for my mom, and you should go face the music. I think you’ll feel better afterward.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Sean leans back into the car and kisses me on the cheek. “I’m right,” he says before turning and walking away.
My stomach is in knots the whole way back up the hill. When I pull off the main road, I stop before I get to the gate to calm myself. There’s another car idling down the secluded lane; it’s probably one of our neighbors, and I’m sure they’re wondering what it is I’m doing.
I let the possible conversation play out in my mind:
Where have you been?
Out with a friend. Where have you been every night for the past… forever?
What do you mean?
Mom, I know about your office. I know you’re not a doctor. Where is that twenty grand coming from every month? And what do you do at night? Oh, and PS, is the Original still alive?
“Okay,” I say to myself in the rearview mirror. I take a deep breath and blow it out. “You can do this.”
I put the car into drive and cruise down the driveway, then park in our usual spot. I don’t waste any time getting out and heading inside; I don’t want to lose my nerve.
In the entryway, I stand alone, listening. Waiting. There’s a TV on in the rec room; the foyer and dining room are dim. I can tell from the glow through the doorway that only the under-cabinet lights are on: Nobody’s in the kitchen.
Tentatively, I kick off my flats. I turn and lock the front door as quietly as I can. Then, holding my breath, I tiptoe up the stairs. I peek around the corner to the rec room; no one’s there, but there’s a soda on the table and a book facedown on the arm of one of the couches. I turn and look down the hall; Mom’s bedroom light is on, but her door’s closed. In about four strides, I slip into Ella’s room, carefully shutting the door behind me. I jump when the phone buzzes in my hand. The caller ID says Home; it must be Ella. I answer without saying hello.
“You made it,” she whispers.
“I did.”
“Okay, change into pj’s; I’ll come to my room and we can switch. Your bed sucks.”
I laugh quietly. “See you in a sec.”
My heart is still racing: I feel like Mom’s going to step out of the shadows at any moment. I inch my way to Ella’s closet in the dark and step inside, turning on the light only when the door’s closed. Hastily, I change into sweats and a T-shirt, leaving my clothes in a crumpled mess on the floor. When I’m searching for socks, the closet door opens.
“It’s just me,” Ella says, palms up. “Sorry.”
“I think I just had a heart attack,” I say, sighing. Then, “What the hell is she doing home?”
“I have no idea,” she says, taking off my favorite sleep T-shirt while I hand over hers. “Bet came in after they talked and she said Mom was acting really weird. Asking what we did today. I guess she asked when I was going to be home like three times.”
“Maybe she knows we know,” I say.
“Or maybe she knows about Sean and she’s checking up on us.”
“This is getting insane,” I say, grabbing a rubber band from a hook and tying back my hair like Ella’s. “I mean, she’s starting to act like a prison warden, don’t you think?”
Ella just shrugs, but it’s weak. I know she agrees with me.
“Sean thinks we should tell someone,” I say.
“Like who? The police or something?”
“I think he meant his mom, but just someone,” I say. “He’s worried about us.”
“Are you sure he’s not just interested in seeing you more often?” Ella says. It comes off as a little defensive; she changes the subject. “Oh, hey, Bet said that Petra scanned some of her baby pictures. I guess it’s freakish how much she looked like us. She said she sent her school picture, too.”
“Bet seems pretty positive that she’s Beth,” I say.
“I don’t think she’s positive,” Ella says. “I think she just sort of wants her to be the Original. But it’s so weird: I mean, how did she end up with different parents… in Portland? Even though she looks just like us, I’m not completely sold. I think the only way we could ever know for sure is a DNA test.”
“How would we even do that?” I ask.
“Online,” Ella says like it’s nothing. “You swab your cheek and they’ll tell you if you’re a sibling match.”
“But we’re not si—”
Ella and I freeze when we hear someone come into her room.
“Bet?” she mouths to me. I shrug. We both watch the handle on the closet door turn. I glance down at what I’m wearing; I look like me. And thankfully so, because the next thing I know, Mom’s standing in the doorway.
“Oh, good, you’re home,” Mom says to Ella. She glances at me, then looks back at El. “What are you two doing in here?”