Spitting Image

Chapter 8

***Darcy’s POV***

I smacked my alarm clock, turning off the annoying beeping. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, wondering why I had set an alarm for so early. Then I remembered that today is the day Marcel and I leave for England. I quietly get out of bed, and go over to my chest of drawers. Since we’re going to be flying and I want to be comfortable, I put on a pair of athletic shorts and a Five Seconds of Summer tshirt. I brushed my wild hair and pulled it into a ponytail, and brushed my teeth. I didn’t bother to put on any makeup, but I did put it in my bag. I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t look like someone who was dying of a brain tumor. I looked normal, healthy even. What did I do to deserve to die? I’ve tried to be good my whole life, and I’ve never done anything evil. I don’t want to die, in fact I’m as scared as heck. Will it hurt? Will I go crazy and wild right before it happens? Will I go peacefully in my sleep with no pain, or will it hurt like crap?

“Darcy, what’s wrong?” Marcel asked, putting his arm around me. I didn’t even realize I was crying until he said that. I wiped my eyes and looked up at him, and did my best to smile. I have to be strong.

“I’m fine, Marcel. Are you ready to go?” I walked out of the bathroom, and grabbed my tennis shoes. He nods as I put them on. I grab my suitcase and a bite to eat, and we’re off, leaving a note for our mum to explain where we’re going. I get into the car silently, and stare out the window. Marcel gets in and starts driving, looking at me every so often.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks me as we pull into a parking spot at the airport.

“Yes. I want to at least know who my dad is before I....” I trail off, as if not saying the fact that I am dying will make it untrue. Marcel nods and seems to understand.

   Getting through security went well and so did the flight. Marcel and I walked out of the airport in Chereshire and looked around. It had been so long since we have been here. There were some new buildings replacing old ones but it pretty much looked the same. I smiled as we passed the old diner Marcel, Mum, and I used to eat at every chance we could. Marcel and I looked at each other, smiling.

“Can we, please?” I asked and he smiled and nodded. We went inside and sat at a little booth in the corner. The diner hasn’t changed at all. 

“It’s so good to be back. I’ve missed here so much.” Marcel says. I smile and nod.

“Ireland is great, but England will always be home.” I agree. 

“Hey, my name’s Georgia, and I’ll be y- Darcy?! Marcel!? Is it really you?” We look up to our waitress. She has hot pink hair, a lip and nose piercing, and multiple piercings on her ears. But I can tell it’s my old best friend Georgia Rose. 

“Georgia! Oh my gosh I can’t believe it’s you!” I stand up and hug her. She hugs back tightly. I see Marcel looking at her with wide eyes. 

“You haven’t changed a bit!” Georgia smiles. I smile back.

“I like your hair!” I say, touching it and laughing.

“Thanks!” Georgia laughs too, “Marcel it’s been forever!” she says, hugging him. Marcel hugs back, with a huge smile on his face.

“It has!” he says. All I can think about is this new Georgia.

What happened?