Chapter One

Chapter One

(Scarlett)

Scarlett looked at herself first in one direction and then another in the three-way mirror. Mentally she approved the silky material and the way it hugged her slender frame. The color black had always blessed her extremely pale skin with an almost glowing quality. This dress was no exception. Her red hair contrasted vibrantly with the neutral theme the dress and her skin. She had let it down her hair from its loose ponytail and it fell down to her shoulders in gentle waves. She smacked her full lips in a kiss at herself as she shifted in a graceful, three-quarter turn. Perhaps she should have become a model instead of a novelist.

This dress was made for me, she thought.

She whirled around and the dress spun out with her, the silk coming to rest on her legs once more as she stopped. A smug smile sat on her features.

“Don’t even say it,” she started, “I look magnificent.”

The young woman reading newspaper glanced up at her and then back down at the page, “Whatever you say.”

Scarlett gritted her teeth, “You didn’t look.”

“I looked.”

“You looked, but you didn’t look!” Scarlett retorted.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” the woman asked, her tone dry and chalky.

Scarlett rolled her eyes as she watched her sister’s gaze rove over the newspaper. Charity always had her nose buried in some book or another. Scarlett, personally, would rather be writing them than reading them.

Charity rolled up the newspaper and gave Scarlett her full attention at last. Scarlett turned back to the mirror, keeping an eye glued to Charity to make sure she stayed focused on the scene before her. From behind her, her older sister watched her with a bland expression on her face. Clearly she didn’t care about the dress or what Scarlett looked like in it.

But Scarlett paid her no mind; she knew this dress was perfect for her. Three glinting images bounced around the changing room. Scarlett refused to finish drinking in her reflection.

“Are you almost ready to go?” Charity asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm, “Because I could always take a vacation to the moon and come back when you’re ready.”

“Oh all right.”

Scarlett flounced back behind her changing curtain. Gingerly she removed the dress, careful not to snag the lace on anything and hung it back up on its hanger. She changed into her street clothes and hugged the dress. She emerged a moment later, clutching the scrap of material to her chest.

“Does it make me look too slutty?” Scarlett asked suddenly. A blush coloring her cheeks and worry in her eyes.

Charity snorted, “You? Slutty? Never. Come on I’m starved.”

If Scarlett heard the disdain in her voice she managed to ignore it. Truly she couldn’t’ have cared less what her sister had to say. She was on a mission to buy this dress. She couldn’t have found something to fit her better if she had had if custom made.

“I’ll meet you at the entrance. I just want to pay for this and I’ll be right out.”

She flashed the credit card her guardian had recently given her. The plastic caught the glare of the fluorescent lights, causing Charity to squint. Her older sister hunched her shoulders down and twisted the newspaper in her hand. It ripped in the middle and Charity flinched like she had been the one torn.

“Go on then.”

Scarlett gave her a wave and headed in the direction of the cash registers. She passed the racks of brightly colored clothes, ignoring them all. She was set on purchasing the ‘Dress of the Week’ as her best friend Jordan kindly put it.

It’s true, she supposed. I probably do buy a new dress every week. It just seems like I have nothing to wear…

The lines were nearly empty, strange for a Saturday afternoon. Scarlett dismissed the dramatic thought that her favorite store in Oakland, her old home town might be going out of business. The checker who rang up the dress was a skinny gothic male with a ring through his left nostril. His eyes were ringed too heavily with black eyeliner and made him look sick. Scarlett smiled at him and he grunted back. She’d never noticed him before, not that there was much to notice. She’d never liked his type of people as a rule.

Mentally she wrote him off as unsophisticated and rude.

At last he handed her the receipt to sign. She did so with a flourish over the two t’s at the end of her name and gave him another dazzling smile. She could tell he was barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Only good training from the store managers kept him from doing so. He threw her dress into a bag after removing the hanger and thrust it at her.

She caught the bag as it hit her chest. Scarlett sashayed away from him, suppressing the anger that he had carelessly tossed her precious purchase into that bag without a second thought. The least he could have done was folded it and why in the world had he taken the hanger? She made a mental note to complain about him the next time she came.

Charity was waiting for her just outside as promised, still reading the paper with the intensity of an Olympic athlete. Scarlett wondered what was holding her attention so raptly.

Carelessly Scarlett snatched the newspaper from her, “Ready, grouchie?”

Charity didn’t even fight for the paper, merely sighed, “I suppose so. Where to next?”

“Lunch, my treat. Even you can’t say no to that.”

Charity cracked her first smile of the day and Scarlett could swear she heard her cheeks groan at the effort.

They left the department store and ran across the street to where the car, affectionately named Birdie, was parked. Charity unlocked the old-fashioned mustang, getting the key stuck momentarily in the rusted keyhole. The car was about to fall apart, but Charity refused to send him to the dump. Birdie was her first car and she had vowed to keep him forever.

Scarlett clucked her tongue in distaste, “You really should do something about ol’ Birdie here. I’m sure he would be eternally grateful.”

“Just get in.”

For once Scarlett did as she was told and climbed into the passengers’ seat. Charity didn’t look like she was in the mood to have yet another conversation about the safety or lack there of, of her precious vehicle.

“You know what disgusts me,” she said instead.

“No, what?”

“People with nose rings, goths, punks, all of them. It’s so old fashioned. They need to move on.”

“Umm.”

“You’re not listening. Do you space out this way with all the people you go out with?”

Charity cracked the first grimace of the day, “No, just with you, sister dear. And may I kindly remind you that you just bought a blacker than black dress and therefore have no room to talk.”

“It’s not the same.”

Charity shrugged and made a right turn. Meticulously she flipped on her turn signal and slowed down. It was little things like that that made her seem so old at twenty-two. She was often overly careful on the road, something no one would ever say about Scarlett.

Pouting at her sister’s insult, Scarlett flipped down the visor to check her light make-up in the mirror. She still looked great, if she did say so herself.

As they were turning into Yuli’s Pasta and Bakery, Scarlett ran a brush through her long, auburn locks making her hair shimmer around her like a bright aura of energy. Somewhere she had lost her ponytail holder, but her hair shone like a halo today and she figured wearing it down was for the best. After all, she was always looking for attention.

“All right,” Charity said as they pulled into a parking spot, “You look fine. Get out of the car so we can eat.”

“I love how chipper you are.”

Scarlett replaced the brush and slid out. She slammed the door to the car and Charity tensed.

“Not so hard, muscles. Birdie is sensitive.”

“Nose rings aren’t the only thing wrong with people these days,” Scarlett shot back without a trace of her typical smile.

Being with Charity was beginning to wear on her nerves.

This is why I don’t visit, she told herself.

They chose a booth towards the back of the dimly lit restaurant. Menus were delivered to them and they placed their drink orders.

Scarlett stared at her sister after picking out the cashew salad which had become her fast favorite. Charity glowed at the menu as though willing it to show her exactly what she wanted to order. Scarlett suppressed a grin It was almost amusing how different she and her older sister were. Charity was so serious, so severe. Scarlett was completely opposite. Life to her was a game and a few mess ups here and there never hurt for too long. Her previous irritation at her sister had already flown to the back of her mind and she was all smiles once again.

They were nearly identical in appearance besides the fact that Charity wore thick glasses, and was five years older.

Charity aspired to be a nuclear chemist which was amusing considering the fact she hated war with a passion. She had made straight A’s through her kindergarten to senior year. She was valedictorian for her year, graduating with numerous honors and scholarships. She was every parents dream child.

On the other hand, Scarlett was flamboyant, spontaneous, and most importantly a high school drop-out. She was smart though, but in a completely different way than Charity. Scarlett’s intelligence lay in her skills in the arts. After being disowned the moment she turned sixteen, she had gone to live with a forty-five year old author who had never made it all the way as he had dreamed. He believed Scarlett had what it would take to be the next big thing. He wasn’t sure where to start on refining her work, but he believed it could be done. Her guardian whose name was Roger, doted on Scarlett. He had inherited a fortune from his deceased family line. His older brother had been killed in a car crash and as a result everything went to him.

The waiter returned and Scarlett was startled out of her thoughts.

“Can I take your order?”

The young man nervously clicked his pen on and off, on and off.

Scarlett told him what she wanted quickly and turned to Charity. She took one look at her sister’s face and recognized instantly what was happening. When Charity spoke, her voice was throaty and breathless. The handsome man stared at her for a moment longer than necessary, seeming frightened by her tone. He rushed off as soon as she was done.

Scarlett watched him retreat to the safety of the kitchens to report their orders. Charity started humming. The mood in the room, particularly at the table, lifted. Scarlett felt disbelief course through her veins. She had always been the black sheep. Could Charity be…

No, it wasn’t possible. Scarlett blinked her eyes and took a long sip of her Coke. She shook the thought from her head. Scarlett would have wait to confront her about this until the waiter came back. She needed to be for sure before she accused her sister.