Donkey Doubled: A Twin Stepbrother Menage Romance Read online

  “They were talking about summer camps”, I say, without any hint of irony. “Backpacking through the woods, singing around the campfire, that kind of thing.”

  Marcy pulls a face like she’s chewing a wasp.

  “I know”, I say. “That was right at the heart of it last week, they’ve calmed down a bit since then.”

  “What will I do if you go away over the summer?” she says. “I’m already going to miss you when college starts in the fall.”

  “I’m not going away”, I say. “This is going to be the last chance I get to see Donkey for a full year, maybe even longer.”

  Marcy’s reaction doesn’t inspire confidence. She’s got the I know something you don’t know but I’m not sure exactly how to tell you look plastered across her face.

  “Marcy?” I ask, worried I’m not going to like what I’m going to have to squeeze out of her.

  “They want them earlier, that’s what people are saying”, she says.

  “That’s what who are saying and who wants them earlier?” I ask.

  “No, nothing, it doesn’t matter”, Marcy says, retracting it. “It’s just something I’ve heard.”

  I goad her again. “Marcy?”

  “Donkey, they might be leaving before the fall.”

  “School doesn’t start until the fall”, I say. “Why would they be leaving before then?”

  “I don’t know”, Marcy says, her hands up. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe I got it wrong, it’s just what I heard. You know, pre-college practise or whatever, I don’t know. Maybe it’s to adjust to the change in advance.”

  “Adjust to the change in advance?” I repeat back to her.

  “It’s what I heard”, Marcy says. “Anyway, I’m sure it’s all bullshit.”

  I let this sink in for a while. It’s not like I know anything about this process, but as much as I understand it, nobody starts school in advance, especially not before the first year. Donkey may be some of the most promising athletes in the state, if not the states as a whole, but even so it would be a little unorthodox.

  Whether it’s true or not, I really don’t want to think about it. It doesn’t help my current predicament and it certainly won’t help my broken heart if on the day I achieve my liberation, I find Donkey have already upped and moved without even saying goodbye.

  Marcy suddenly looks like she wants to change the subject and for whatever reason, it makes me think of my notebook again. We’ve already been over this once, but I know it can’t have just disappeared into thin air, and if I don’t find it first, someone else will. If they do, being trapped in here permanently might not seem like such a bad option after all.

  “Do you remember if I had my notebook in the party?” I ask her.

  Marcy winces. “I know you put it in your bag in the car”, she says. “After that, I have no idea. It could be anywhere between the hill, Alex’s house and here, and believe me, I’ve looked in all of those places more than once for you. As far as I can tell, it’s disappeared completely.”

  “Missing presumed dead”, I say, solemnly, hoping to hide my anguish.

  “At least no one’s mentioned it yet”, Marcy says, “that’s got to be a good sign, right?”

  “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to take it out.”

  All I wanted to do was read Marcy that stupid sex scene I wrote, the last thing I expected was to lose it. A sex scene that couldn’t have been any more obvious as to who it was about. I mean, I could have used code names to hide my fantasy, but no, in order to make it as real as possible, I had to use real names, real places and real feelings, at least from my own perspective.

  “So, when are they going to let you out?” Marcy asks, changing the subject again.

  She doesn’t need to tell me she’s already thinking about leaving, and I don’t need to ask her to know it’s not because she doesn’t want to stay. I can read Marcy like a book, and when she’s got a man on the go, she can’t do anything to hide it.

  “At the end of the week”, I say. “Although I’m not sure I’m ready to face people yet anyway.”

  “Who do you need to face?” Marcy asks, “School’s over, you’re a college virgin now.”

  “Don’t remind me”, I say, the word virgin cutting agonizingly through my belly. “And I’ve got the summer to get through first, which means trying to find a job without going insane.”

  “Call me when you get your cell back”, Marcy says, “We’ll take some little bottles of rum up to Monument Hill again.”

  “Yeah, right”, I say. “I’ll only do that if you can promise me Donkey will carry me back down again, take me to their bedroom and do what we should have done last week.”

  “You shouldn’t have drunk so much”, Marcy says, and then with a knowing smile. “I was absolutely fine.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to know what you got up to”, I say. “Whatever it is, I hope there isn’t a video circulating round the internet.”

  “Hey”, Marcy says. “I’m not the one with the dirty mind around here.”

  “No, just the dirty body”, I joke.

  Marcy’s at the door. “Seriously”, she says. “It isn’t as bad as you think. The video, the party, Donkey. You’ll see before too long that it doesn’t really matter.”

  But it does matter, I want to say. It matters more than anything else in the world. It may seem like a silly little crush or even an infatuation, but it isn’t, it’s more serious than that, a thousand times purer and more important.

  “Just don’t forget about yourself in all of this”, she adds. “The last thing you want to do is chase something you’ll never get your hands on and miss a whole world of other opportunities.”

  “The party?” I ask.

  “A handful, Jenny.”, Marcy says wistfully. “Not twins, but definitely not Kevin Peabody either. You missed out.”

  I look at her apologetically. Not for me, but for the fact I might have disappointed my best friend without even realizing it.

  “Call me when they break your chains”, she says, and then she’s out of the door quickly before I have a chance to respond to her.

  Chapter Twelve

  I’m writing when the doorbell rings, jotting down thoughts into a brand new notebook, this time making sure to keep the content clean and completely impersonal. It’s not a complete reflection of my feelings like that, but until I regain my confidence it’s going to have to do. My original notebook still hasn’t turned up, and each new day that passes, the fear it might becomes a little less potent. I figure that Marcy is right, and wherever it is, or whomever it is with, after so much time in the wilderness, it’s not likely to suddenly make its whereabouts known now.

  I haven’t seen many people since the end of year party, nor since my punishment was lifted, but Marcy was right in that respect too, the few people I’ve bumped into from school, either haven’t seen the video at all or if they have, have had the decency not to comment on it, at least not to my face.

  Sadly, I haven’t seen much of Marcy over the last few weeks either. The guy she hooked up with at Alex’s party is now her boyfriend, so with the little time she gets outside of her full-time job, she’s been spending it with him and not chilling out with me.

  I’m happy for her, and with the spare time, I’ve been able to concentrate on getting my own life in order too. I’ve been focussing on my writing, and I’ve been looking for some part-time work in the vague possibility I can think about moving out of home at some point over the next year, and begin to work a little harder on gaining my own independence.

  Mom and Dad have been weirder than normal lately and part of me wonders whether it’s because they’ve suddenly realized I’m finally becoming an adult and soon enough I’ll want to flee the nest. What I can’t work out, however, is whether they’re looking forward to it or not.

  The bell rings again, and I’m half inclined to pretend I’m not here and let it ring out. I hate answering the door at the best of tim
es, even less so when I’m supposed to be writing, but I’m aware that it’s probably good for my confidence and something I should embrace instead of avoid.

  I’m not expecting anyone, and from my window I can’t see the porch below, so when I finally get to the door, the bell ringing for the third time, I have no idea who to expect to be standing on the other side.

  When I see them, my heart leaps into my mouth. I look from one twin to the other and back again. One perfect mouth to the next, one incredible set of smoldering blue eyes to the other, one gigantic, mouth watering torso to the one alongside it. Apart from stolen glances out of the window as they leave or arrive, I haven’t seen these two since the morning after the party.

  “Hey”, Jack says.

  “Hey”, Zach says.

  “Hey”, I say.

  And then in unison, accidentally. “Do you mind if we come in?”

  ***

  Jack and Zach lean into the couch, arms folded behind their heads in a mirror image of one another.

  “Separating?” I say, the word catching in my throat.

  “Mom’s kicking him out”, Zach says.

  “Dad’s leaving”, Jack corrects him. “It’s the only way.”

  I don’t know what to say. “I’m sorry”, is about the best I can manage. “That’s really shit news.”

  “Yeah, it’s not all that unexpected to be honest”, Zach says. “I guess you’ve heard them lately.”

  “Anyway, we wanted to let you know”, Jack says. “Before you found out from someone else.”

  “Thank you”, I say. “I mean, it’s really none of my business, but thank you.”

  “It’s going to be weird to adjust”, Zach says. “But it’s definitely for the best.”

  “That’s the other thing”, Jack says, and my heart leaps into my throat for the second time in fifteen minutes. “I know we haven’t seen each other much over the last few months, no way near as much as we used to when we first moved here.”

  “I guess not”, I lie. With about ninety nine percent accuracy I could probably detail exactly how much time we’ve spent together over the last eight years. I might even be able to recite full conversations.

  “With the training and stuff we’ve kind of been busy, you know, more distant than we would like”, Zach adds.

  “But we still have a lot of history together, and, I don’t know, you were always there for us when we needed you”, Jack says.

  “Which makes it even harder”, Zach says.

  “Really hard”, Jack adds.

  “Makes what even harder?” I say, almost afraid to ask. Donkey look more uncomfortable than I ever remember seeing them before, to the point where they don’t even seen to be able to find their natural synchronisation to tell me exactly what’s on their minds. This is difficult for them and I’m sure it’s not just me imagining it. I have no idea why I feel scared, but I do. Something tells me this is about to be way worse news than just the fact their parents are splitting up.

  “I wish it were different”, Zach says. “Like, in so many different ways.”

  “Different?” I ask, clutching on to the word like a lifeline. Different how? I want to ask. Different with me?

  “Dad’s moving away”, Jack confirms.

  “Moving?” I repeat, the world falling in one word at a time.

  Zach looks from the floor to fix his eyes on me. “They’re selling the house.”

  “Fuck.”

  The twins nod. “Mom’s going to stick around here, at least for now, but Dad’s set on moving home, which kind of helps us both”, Jack says.

  “Where’s home?” I ask, trying not to process it all at once.

  “Louisiana”, Zach says solemnly, “We took the offer because of what it meant to him.”

  “Now it makes sense in a different way”, his brother adds.

  “And your Mom?” I ask.

  The twins shrug in unison. “She might go home too”, Jack says. “She hasn’t decided yet. It’s been coming for a while, but it’s still pretty fresh.”

  “And what about you two in the meantime?”

  “That’s sort of the main reason why we came over”, Zach says, his eyes back to the floor again. “Dad’s found somewhere already and he wants us to go with him.”

  “Fuck”, I say again, unable to hide my disappointment. “That’s, fuck.”

  I’m stuck for words, half shocked half completely blown out of the water. My plan was the rest of the summer, and after that, the summers that followed. If both of them move away, where the fuck does that leave us?

  “It’s a bit of a shock”, Jack says. “We never figured we’d be leaving permanently.”

  “Or that our parents would never be living next door”, Zach adds, and they look at each other for a moment before both placing their eyes upon me.

  “We also counted on that”, Jack says. “You know, having the time, with you around.”

  “I’m always going to be there”, I say, “You can always come and visit.”

  The twins smile, but we all know it isn’t the same.

  “I just wish we’d made more time for each other while we could”, Jack says. “Instead of wasting it all training.”

  “It’s a shame”, Jack adds. “I kind of feel like we might have taken you too much for granted.”

  I’m not sure how to respond because what it feels like they are saying to me I’m disinclined to allow myself to believe. Equally, they could be talking about friendship, but Donkey and I haven’t had a strong friendship for years, which makes this sound much more like something deeper. I shake it off, worried I’m somehow stuck too much in willful fantasy.

  “Anyway”, Jack says, seemingly unable to dare himself further towards what I want to be true. “We just wanted to say that.”

  “We’re going to miss you, Jenny”, Zach adds. “Really miss you.”

  “When are you leaving?” I ask, just to ask it and make them need to stay here even longer, not because I have any interest in knowing.

  “The end of the week”, Jack says. “Maybe even earlier. Dad’s already finished work so it depends on when he can get ready.”

  Little by little my life with Donkey slips even further away. “Are you having a party or something or-?”

  Zach’s head shaking cuts me off mid sentence.

  “It’s not really our thing”, Jack says. “We kind of did all of our goodbyes at the end of year party. All of them except yours of course.”

  “It’s not really something we want to think too much about”, Zach says. “We kind of want to get the move done and then concentrate on focussing on college and football and seeing where that takes us.”

  While you forget about me and your life here.

  “So this is it?” I say, trying to disguise the sheer unadulterated sadness in my voice. “The end of your story here?”

  Jack and Zach look at each other again, and then back to me with mirrored expressions of resignation.

  “I’m sorry, Jenny”, Jack says. “I know it’s not the best news.”

  “We wish it were different too”, Zach says, as though able to read my mind. “And you never know, Mom might decide to stay after all, which means that there’ll be a reason for us to come back.”

  Me, I want to shout. I’m your reason to come back. But what I do instead is nod understandingly, when selfishly, I want to understand nothing of what’s happening at all.

  “We should get back”, Jack says after a stun of silence has wrapped us too long in introspective thought, and as I walk them to the door I can’t help but think that finally the gates of opportunity are closing on me forever. From here on in, it’s me, my pen and paper, my imagination and fuck all else.

  “We’ll drop by again on the day”, Zach says, already halfway out of my life.

  “Just to say goodbye properly”, Jack adds, biting his lip like I’ve always liked him to do.

  “I’ll be here”, I say firmly, unable to stop myself thinking this migh
t actually be the last time I see them.

  I watch them turn, leap the low fence back into their yard and disappear all too quickly through their front door without a single glance back in my direction.

  I sit on my porch for an hour, my mind a mess of emotions, before the darkness finally forces me inside, where I curl up in bed way too stunned still to even bring myself to cry.

  I’ve always had trouble assimilating things, which is why I’m such an idealist in the first place, so I know that when Donkey leave permanently at the end of this week, it’s going to take me a lifetime to believe it’s true.

  A lifetime of wasted opportunities while I try desperately to grab onto the one thing I know I’ll never be able to have, still unable to stop believing that at some point, finally, it’ll some how make its way to me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Well, I can’t say that I’m all that surprised.”

  Dad couldn’t be less sensitive if he tried. “They’ve hardly been right since they moved here.”

  I push food around the plate with my fork, still trying to come to terms with the shock. I’ve barely eaten anything in two days, hardly done anything but slope around the house in apathetic dejection since Donkey broke the news.

  “As good as he is to those kids, Brian has not been a good husband”, Dad goes on.

  “Janice hasn’t exactly been a model wife either”, Mom interjects.

  “Well, if Brian was around more often, and made it easier for her”, Dad says.

  “I don’t know why you’re defending her”, Mom cuts in, “she’s just as much to blame as Brian is.”

  “I’m not defending her at all”, Dad says. “I’m just saying that maybe it could have been different, that’s all.”

  “I think they were just waiting for the twins to finish school, that’s all. I never think they loved each other properly”, Mom says.

  “Well not based on Brian’s extracurricular activities they didn’t”, Dad says.

  “Nor hers”, Mom adds, the comment barbed in a way that makes me wonder if they know something I don’t. I knew Brian and Janice were having troubles together - everyone in the neighborhood could hear it - I didn’t know they were seeing other people.