002- Identical Twins
1357 Words
RHODA
Dad's silence hurt more than the wound on my legs.
I kept my eyes on him as he drove, his grip tight around the wheel as if it had personally offended him. I couldn't find a single thing to say.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to start something. “Well, Dad, I…”
“Don't…” Ricco raised a warning finger from the front seat. “...you dare.”
The words died in my throat. I blinked fast, but the tears came anyway.
The moment the car stopped, I rushed out despite the pain in my feet, desperate to face him. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I just…”
He stepped out, slammed the door, and walked past me like I wasn't even there. Like I was a ghost.
Rhodes scoffed. “Did you expect him to hug you? Laugh it off after you humiliated all of us?”
“No. I didn't know it would turn out like this.” The tears came faster now. “I just wanted to dance. But…”
Ricco scooped me up without warning. “Ballet is a sin for an Othello, Rhoda. You knew that, and you still chose to break the rules. There's no excuse.”
My chest tightened as we walked inside. Dad already had his headphones on, eyes locked on the TV, acting like he was the only person in the house.
The last time I’d seen him this angry was when Ricco got caught smoking with his friends and was arrested.
“Stay here like you're dead,” Ricco muttered, dropping me onto my bed without mercy. “Don't come out.”
I curled beneath my duvet, my legs throbbing. I switched my phone off, craving silence more than anything else.
A few minutes later, Rhodes brought food. I refused it, dragging myself out instead, to find Dad at the dinning table. He stood to leave the moment I sat down, but I caught his hand before he could.
“I'm sorry, Daddy.”
He paused. Just for a second. Then he shrugged me off and walked away with a word.
This was my limit. The tears came with the words this time. “Why won't you even talk to me? Did I kill someone? It's not as if the pack forbade Ballets?”
He stopped. Turned his head just slightly. “I'm sorry, do I know you? Because I am no father to a ballerina.”
“I am not backing down, Daddy.” My voice shook, and I meant every word. “If Aunt Celeste could do it, so can I."
His face twisted. “You want to be like Celeste huh? Did you forget she died on that stage? We're stuck in this werewolf pack because of her. Did you forget?"
Here we go again. Thesame story, every time.
“But Daddy, if I become a ballerina, our family will be cleared from the curse. I'm sure the dance is not the problem we just…”
“Then explain what happened today.” Ricco joined in. “We became motherless because of ballet, don't you get it, Rhoda?”
A hard knot formed on my chest. “Today, my….my friend was just messing with my shoes. It was a prank, and not what you guys are thinking.”
“We're no longer talking about this.” Dad walked to his room after that conclusion.
My legs turned jelly, I fell down helplessly.
♣
A week passed. I didn't dare step outside, not unless I wanted to be laughed at all over again.
Dad wouldn't let Clawdeen near the house, blaming her for ‘encouraging an abomination’. Rhodes and Ricco weren't any kinder — their teasing paired with the relentless comments on the school blog nearly pushed me over the edge.
Then, on the eighth day, a promotional email arrived.
“MEGATHRON BOYS COLLEGE (MBC) NOW OFFERING BALL ROOM DANCE AS PART OF IT'S CURRICULUM. FREE SCHOLARSHIP FOR THE FIRST FIVE BALL ROOM DANCE STUDENTS.”
My heart dropped. Megathron — the biggest college in the entire pack. A royal institution for the wealthy and elites.
My phone rang before I could process it.
“Babes!” Clawdeen squealed. “Did you see Megathron’s offering ball room dance now?”
“Hun…”
“You could plead with your dad. There's a scholarship program for ballets too, if he let you join, you could —”
“Deen. MBC is for boys.”
She kept going, too excited to register it. “Yes, but…” Then she stopped. “Wait. Boys college?”
“You didn't know? It's male-only. Werewolves only. No humans.”
Clawdeen went silent. I bit my lips, almost tasting blood.
Dad wasn't at home. Rhodes and Ricco were at school. For once, none of them were around to make things worse.
“It's fine,” I said, closing the email. I let out a long sigh. “I'll go back to school next week. Just help me fill the attendance until then. Ricco said I should post a public apology on the blog before resumption.”
“That’s fine. I saw Dylan yesterday…” she started.
"Let's talk later. Daddy's back.” Lying was the only way out.
She hummed and hung up. For a few minutes, all I felt was anger— not just at the situation, but at my own cursed luck.
Ricco played football for the school team. Rhodes rapped on social media, hoping to be a superstar one day.
But me… the one thing I wanted to do, the world made it impossible at every turn.
I dragged myself out of bed and went to do laundry instead. Just anything to keep my mind away.
My feet still ached, — a constant reminder that Dylan had helped me for years only to ruin everything on the day I needed him the most.
Rhodes' clothes were scattered everywhere, while Ricco’s side stayed neat as always. Typical Rhodes.
“He’ll never learn how to fold a shirt,” I muttered, picking up a jacket — and three photos slipped out from inside it.
They were childhood pictures of me and Rhodes, taken with Dad and Ricco in the background. Our mother died when Rhodes and I were three months old, the only picture of her there was the photo of when she was pregnant with us.
I stared at the photos, one of them where Rhodes was dressed up like a girl and I was dress up like a boy for elementary school event caught my eyes. Dad held us in the photos, and if not for the mole on Rhodes' cheek, I would hardly differentiate between us.
My phone rang at that exact moment — It was Rhodes.
“Hey, can you help me with something?”
I eagerly nodded as though he would see me. “Yes, Yes. What do you need.”
“I need your ID. There’s this new site I want to try…”
My pulse quickened. “My ID? How are you going to pass facial recognition?"
I could hear his friends snickering in the background. Rhodes spoke quickly. “Relax, We basically look identical. I would cover my mole with make-up, don't worry”
The idea that had must sparked in my head spun faster. Rhodes and I were indeed identical so much that if we were dame gender people would hardly tell us apart — how did I forget that?
And his mole… Who cares? I would draw that!
“You there?” Rhodes asked, impatient.
I bit back a squeal threatening to escape.
Finally. A real shot at becoming a ballerina at the most prestigious college in the pack.
“I’ll send it,” I said quickly, hanging up before dialing Clawdeen. If anything, she was my only ally and with her help, anything is possible.
I stared at the pictures before Clawdeen picked the call, and the only thing that could come to mind was that I just traded Rhodes' future for mine.
If I get caught, then that was the end of everything.
- Writer
