Dead Ringer *Watty 2016*

Siblings

The next morning Larkin awoke to the smell of something sweet cooking.  The smell was unfamiliar enough to remind her of where she was so she groggily asked, "Oakley are you cooking?"

"When have you seen me cook?"  Oakley mumbled from under a blanket nearby and Larkin sat bolt upright in bed, afraid of the idea that Harlow was cooking. 

Harlow then skipped into the living room holding a spatula, "Pancakes are done my loves," she said sweet in her high pitch voice, still sounding as though she was on the verge of laughing.

Larkin looked down and realized that she was still wearing the same outfit as the day before, "I should probably change then I'll meet you guys."  Larkin said dreading a formal dinner.

"No, no, no," Oakley grumbled from under her blanket, "you can't go into your room and go back to sleep if I have to get up and eat breakfast."

"You look fine," Harlow laughed dragging Larkin passed the formal dinning room and into the kitchen directly under the scary hanging light.  Larkin kept looking up at it in fear then she decided to take a seat at the other side of the table, away from the precariously balanced glass.

Just as she was pulling her chair out from the right side Oakley wondered in, still wrapped in the blanket and collapse across most of the table.  Harlow took the last seat that was not occupied by Larkin or blocked by Oakley's body and sat with her legs crossed in the chair.  Then she grabbed the piece of waffle with her hands, delivering it straight from the tray to her mouth.  Larkin followed her lead oohing at the taste of the sweet pastry.  The other two laughed.  "Nothing as good as Harlow's cooking during the preparement?"  Oakley teased.

"There is nothing as good as Harlow's cooking," Larkin said still stuffing her mouth.

Harlow blushed and giggled, looking less like Briar than she ever had before.  "Don't flatter her."  Oakley said taking more of the pastry, called a pancake, herself.

Hours later Larkin was laid across Coraleigh's bed with clothing piled around her and she let out a groan.  The other two girls had left a while ago with plans to get ready and meet her back there at eight for a night of drinks and partying.  In the midst of her confused despair Larkin heard a knock on the front door and as excited as she was to be pulled away from the dilemma of what to wear she was worried about fooling someone new.  Still she walked to the door and opened it.  Luckily the only person standing there was Arch who quickly pushed past her to come inside.

"Hello Arch," she said.

"What are your plans for the night?"  He asked looking around the apartment uncomfortably.

"I am supposed to get drinks at a few different clubs with Harlow and Oakley," even though he knew who she really was Larkin tried to sound as though it was a causal activity for her.

Archer was too uncomfortable to notice the act, "you don't look ready."  He commented.

"I can't figure out what she would wear," Larkin laughed realizing how dumb of a problem this was, this was the kind of thing that both Wilder and Sanders had called her about in the past.

"Show me what you have," Archer answered with a slight grin.

"Just come with me," Larkin said walking towards Coraleigh's bedroom.

"No, I can't go in there, she never let anyone in there," Archer said suddenly looking panicked.

"Well its my room now so its fine," Larkin said not understanding what the problem was.

"No I'm fine."  He said, "bring it out here."

Larkin decided it was better not to argue any more so she walked back into the bedroom and selected two things that were similar to what she had worn to the formal dinners and carried them out.  "Either one of these."

Archer gulped uncomfortably and avoided eye contact with Larkin momentarily before saying, "I really hate to say this," but then in a much meeker voice he added, "Does she have anything shorter?"  Then he coughed a few times, turning red.

"Yes definitely," Larkin laughed thinking about all of the articles of clothing that she had mistaken for strips of cloth.  She went back into the bedroom and slipped into the outfit that made her feel the most uncomfortable.  It was a pink and white romper that was so low cut that the fabric met just above her belly button yet short enough that it clung tightly around her but cheeks.  Then she walked into the living room where Archer waited.  "This?"  She asked.

"That works," Arch said not looking any more comfortable.  "Go grab her makeup bag and I'll help you."  He said as if he was trying to change the subject.

Larkin did as she was told since she was clueless about makeup even though it was briefly covered in her week long Cian cram session.   Soon she was sitting down across from Archer as he applied goops and creams skillfully to her face, brushing on power as if she was a piece of art work.  "Eventually you are going to learn how to do this yourself."  He said, "I taught Cora when she was eight."  He added getting lost in a wave of memories.

A few minutes later when he had turned to the bag to pick out a new color, freeing her face momentarily, "What is the deal with you and Cora?"  She asked starting to wonder if he was more than just her attendant.

Arch bit his lip and paused for a minute.  "I wanted a better way to tell you this... Once you understood the system more."  He then continued applying makeup as if nothing hand happened.

"That's the part where you tell me anyway," Larkin said trying not to move when she spoke, but ultimately being unsuccessful.

"Stop moving," he said before sighing and starting his explanation, "there is a lot that plebs don't know about the system, but basically Cian's don't have to work their only job is to have two children when they are 24 and 26."

Larkin moved her eyes to look at him to show him that she was ready for him to continue without moving.  "Normally the children never meet or know each other but when I was two my pleb died and I became an attendant.  Attendant's have access to more information and by the time Cora was three she had caused a lot of trouble so, the woman you met introduced us and explained the situation."

"So you had the same genes?"  Larkin asked.

"Yeah, back when it was more common they called them siblings.  She was my sister."  He said it as if there would be some large impact to it.

"So it was like you had a family?"  Larkin was instantly jealous, liking the idea of a family even if she didn't completely understand it.

"We were family," Arch said and tears welled in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Larkin said thinking about knowing someone that long and having a connection like that with them then loosing them.  She felt bad for him and she couldn't help feel that between all she had lost she could begin to understand the feeling.  She had shared a room with Briar and shared her entire life with her since they were moved into double rooms as kids and she could never see or speak to her again; she didn't really know Cora but she felt that loss too because she was supposed to be the one person that was the same as her, she was supposed to be worth giving her organs for, like Lark would have a purpose.  She wondered if that natural connection would be the same if she had a sister.

"You're done," Arch said suddenly and Lark hopped up and looked in the mirror.  She frowned not recognizing herself.

"What's wrong I'm great at makeup?"  Arch said laughing.

"I miss Larkin," she said quietly and he wrapped his arm around her to be comforting.  Then he shoved her lightly, "Well give me a chance to miss her and finish getting ready so you can go hang out with Cora's friends."

Larkin laughed, knowing that he was trying to lighten the mood.