James and Madeleine have been inseparable since birth, which only makes sense because they are twins. Despite their opposite personalities and differing cliques and hobbies, the charming and charismatic James and the reserved and timid Madeleine hav...
You know when people ask you the question, "If it was your last day on earth, what would you do?" Then you're forced into those deep thoughts about what you actually see yourself doing on your final hours, contemplating and differentiating between what you like doing versus what you love doing. If you asked anyone else, they would probably say sky diving or bungee jumping or something adrenaline filled. Not me. If I got to choose what to do on my last day, it would be sitting on a piano in a lavender field. I see myself playing 'Clair de Lune' by Debussy or 'River Flows in You' by Yiruma. The field I'm playing in is completely covered by lavenders and only lavenders, and I can almost smell their scent and feel the cool breeze on my skin as my fingers travel from key to key. And I can feel myself getting drawn and lost into a deep symphony until everything just blurs out of place.
"Madeleine?" the field whispers at me. I look around in confusion. "Ms Townsend, would you care to answer the question?" I blink my eyes aggressively and they force me to focus on Mrs Lexington, who as well as the class, stares at me in confusion. "I beg your pardon?" I asked her. "When did William Shakespeare write his first play, and which play was it?" I scan the room and see Olivia Donahue and Diane Kline whisper and snicker at each other from the corner of my eye. I recollect my thoughts and clear my throat. "Shakespeare's first play was Henry VI, published in 1590, followed by Henry VI part two and three in 1591 and 1592 respectively." Mrs Lexington adjusts her glasses then narrows her eyes slightly at me. "Good. But I'd appreciate it if you didn't daydream in my class next time." I give her a slight smile and nod my head at her apologetically. When Mrs Lexington continues to write more instructions for homework on the board, I look up at my brother James, sitting at his seat faced slightly towards me. He gives me a thumbs up then uses a tissue to swipe the "Henry 6" he wrote on the palm of his hand that he showed me as a clue to answer the teacher's question. When the bell rings for the end of class, I follow James out of the classroom.
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"I totally had that in the bag," I say, lightly pushing his shoulder. "I know you did," he replied. "But I know that you take years to recover from your day dreams. So I thought I'd give you a cue then decided that you could figure out the rest for yourself," he laughs. "Which you did by the way. She asked for Shakespeare's first play, not first three plays." I roll my eyes at him. "Technically Henry VI Part One, Two and Three is one play. Just divided into three parts." James combs his hair back with his fingers. "Okay Mom." he says sarcastically. As we walk down the hallways, I can't help but notice the amount of people to acknowledge James as he scoots past them. It seems as though every other person either waves at him or smiles at him, and of course there is the occasional girl that widens her eyes and grips the side of her textbooks at the sight of James, to only turn around to her friends and subtly jump up and down. James' stride is cool and effortless, almost as if he were walking on floating clouds. I could barely keep up with him half the time.
"It's Thursday." I tell James. He looks at me with a stern look and replies, "Yeah, I know." I look up at him, expecting him to say something more, but he doesn't. "You can't keep avoiding him you know. He's been out of rehab for almost a year now. The least you could do is have dinner with him every fortnight on a Thursday. He's still our dad, you can't hate him forever." I say, abruptly. "I don't hate him Mads. Today is Thursday, I have soccer practise till 8, then we're all chilling at Ricky's for a bit after." I grab his arm to force him to stop before I look him longingly in the eyes. "You can't hate him forever." James gives me a half hearted smile. "I'll see you later. Tell Mom I'll be home a little late." Then he walks away to join his friends waiting for him at the stair case. I make eye contact with his best friend Gabe, who shrugs his shoulders at me. I guess not even he can convince James to have dinner with his own father.
