Plot Twist

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I've been through it all, baby, I'm Mother Courage."

-Elizabeth Taylor

Turns out, not only was the interior of my room made to look like my own personal heaven, but my closet was as well. Rows upon rows of the cutest clothes, accessories and shelves lined a walk-in closet. I know that everything going on right now was confusing as hell, and I was absolutely still in shock about all of it, but I will tell you this - with this closet, I don't ever want to go home.

I finally selected some skinny jeans, a flowy blouse, high-heeled boots and a tan leather jacket perfect for the fall. I was definitely going to have to watch myself though. Sometimes when I got too fashionable, I started to turn into Tyra Banks and people really hate it when you snap your fingers at them, apparently.

"Yo, Cal, are you finally done yet, Tyra Banks?" The voice of fake-sister floated from the hallway.

This was weird, I couldn't deny it. Why the hell did these people know everything about me? Shouldn't they be commenting on how crazy I was acting? After all, wasn't I kind of an imposter?

And shit, how the hell did she know about inner-Tyra-Banks?

"Yeah, Ninja, let's do this!" I said, giving myself one more appraising look before turning to fake-sister, who was now perched by the doorway.

Now that she was all dressed, she looked even more like a Victoria's Secret model and I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. I mean, give me a break. I usually wasn't insecure, having been done with the angsty-teenager-insecurity phase by the time I was fourteen - thankfully - but who wouldn't be brushing off imaginary lint when your freaking "twin" sister looks like she walked out of her Vogue photoshoot?

Her makeup and hair were done flawlessly and she was rocking a crop top and skinny jeans like they were made for her body.

Freaking model fake-sisters, man.

I, on the other hand, hadn't bothered with my hair or makeup. It wasn't like I was going to impress anybody, anyways. Hell, I was attending school in a bad fictional book, and unless Damon Salvatore happened to make an appearance, I was cool going natural.

With that final thought, I linked arms with Skylar - I really needed to stop calling her fake-sister before I accidently said it out loud and raised questions - and we made our way downstairs.

In the kitchen sat a boy with his back turned to me on a barstool, consuming his food at an alarming rate and a middle-aged man with handsome features reading a newspaper. An attractive woman in her forties was frying eggs and bacon in front of a stove. I couldn't help but notice the similarities between the woman, man and fake-sister. Yep, this was definitely the rest of fake-family.

Skylar plopped down next to the boy, leaving me to awkwardly take the barstool next to her. I still hadn't seen fake-brother's face yet, and I was a little anxious to make a final assessment of this entire...pretend family I now had.

Time to take matters into my own hands.

Hesitantly, I leaned over Skylar's shoulder to look at fake-brother and said, "Hey, uh, bro? Can you..."

And that's when I stopped talking.

Because when fake-brother turned to look at me, giving me a full view of his face, I was shocked.

I needed some fucking tea, just so I could spit it out at this moment.

Because kind-of-brother is fucking Josh Hutcherson.