Playing Princess

Playing Princess 1.4

It was probably safe to say that I was pretty much stalking my look-alike through the internet. I dug up every bit of information about her, her personal hobbies, interests and her family in general. It was very stalkerish indeed but I couldn’t help it: she was like my doppelganger and the urge to find out more about her was compelling though I had no idea why.

“Okay this is seriously getting creepy.” Peyton stood in my doorway in her usual tennis gear: shorts, polo shirt and the racquet tucked under her arm. She peered at pictures I had printed off scattered around my desk as well as many internet windows containing videos of the princess herself.

I scowled at her and turned my monitor away from her view. “What do you want?”

“Mum told Leonard to tell me to tell you that mum is going to have dinner with us tonight,” Peyton informed me dryly and strolled in, her gaze raking through the laser coloured pictures. “It’s funny how she looks exactly like you – but it seems like your personalities are completely different.”

“How so? You don’t know her,” I sneered and turned back to the talk show Ellen where Isabel was smiling and laughing charmingly. Seriously, my mother watched Ellen all the time – how could I have not known about her? How could mum have not known? Or did she?

“Neither do you,” she shot back and settled on my bed with the tennis racquet balanced on the palm of her hand. “But I did my own research too. She’s a horse riding, nature-loving princess.”

“Sounds so perfect doesn’t she?” I muttered and paused the video, her brown eyes squinting slightly from laughter. “This gets weirder and weirder.”

“How so?” Peyton mocked and ran her fingers along the strings as though it was a guitar.

“She has a step-mum meaning her real mum is either dead or somewhere out there,” I explained. “While we have no dad, we’ve got a real mum. Our dad could still be out there or possibly dead.”

“You think mum could be her mum?” Peyton questioned in disbelief. “She wouldn’t keep something as big as that from us. Mum would tell us if she knew.”

“How are you so sure?” I said angrily. “She’s not even around long enough to tell us whether we have an unknown sister or not!”

“You don’t know that!” Peyton cried out, raising her voice.

“Yes I do,” I retorted. “You really think you can trust her to tell us if we asked her?”

“She’s making an effort to come to dinner – I would trust her!” Peyton shouted furiously and stood up with a loud thump. “You’re being such a creepy stalker, Astrid! Seriously, you really think we could even be the slightest bit related to the Devereauxes?”

“Not exactly –”

“Sometimes I think you’re delusional,” she huffed and stormed for the door, racquet swinging in one hand. “You should stop stalking her! You’re being a creep.”

My jaw dropped. “Am not! I can’t believe you’re defending mum! After she ditched all your tennis matches and dance recitals for her work, you really still care for mum?”

Peyton shrieked at the top of her lungs and turned to me with an absolutely murderous glare. “You don’t know mum! She’s said sorry a thousand times and she’s tried so hard –”

“Her business is more important than us, Peyton!” I shouted angrily and stood up to glare at her. “Why can’t you see that?”

“Whoa girls, jeez you’re loud!” Leonard exclaimed and leaned against the doorframe, staring at us in amusement. “What are you arguing about now?”