Page 7 of Greased

“Hot chook is a roast chicken. We normally have it on a burger bun with a bit of pasta salad.” I confirm but can’t help but cringe at the familiarity of teaching an American about Australian traditions. A month of doing so will do that to you. I can’t even see a koala without having flashbacks.

“Oh yep, right.” He nods in some kind of attempt to act casual but he fails. Epically.

We both then go silent as we look at each other. I take him in. Over the years, Mum has filled me in on all the details of the things the amnesia wiped which was quite literally my entire life before eight years old.

Mum said that Rhodes and I were identical twins, which for boy/girl twins is an extremely low chance. We did everything together. Had the same group of friends, insisted on sharing the same room up until our eighth birthday, and liked all of the same foods. We even sang together. While Mum said that Rhodes could sing, it was obvious that it was a natural talent for me.

The raw devastation I felt earlier seems to have slipped further back into my mind, leaving room for common sense to prevail. I really look at the guy. Take him in without bias and heartbreak clouding my thoughts. It's been ten years and a lot has changed in that time, but it's clear to me that this guy isn’t lying to me.

Blondie is Rhodes.

Mum wasn’t lying.

My mouth drops as I stare at him. Tears well in my eyes again. I swallow roughly, trying to gain control of my feelings but it's futile. My brother is alive. He didn’t die.

It was one thing to come to terms with it when I was alone, on the beach. But now it is impossible to ignore.

A piece of me feels like it knits back together in that moment. Even amidst the betrayal I feel rooting itself deeper, I can’t deny what’s right in front of me.

After years of missing a part of me, of wanting so desperately to remember my brother, he is now looking directly at me. Waiting to gauge how I am going to react.

The similarities between Rhodes and I are obvious. From our hair, our face shape, nose and most obviously, our eyes.

“You really are Rhodes,” I whisper. If he wasn’t paying such close attention to me, he probably wouldn’t have heard me.

“And you really are Scarlett. My sister.”

Rhodes wastes no time in rushing towards me. I’m squished into his embrace as he picks me up and spins me around. I tighten my arms around his neck. My brother.

Even though the block in my brain holds strong, it's like my soul knows him. It's like some kind of weird twin thing. Probably not, but I grasp at straws trying to make sense of the entire situation.

The number one thing that rolls over in my mind is, my brother is alive.

New tears fall freely down my cheeks. But instead of being laced with grief, they are happy. So fucking happy.

“God Scar. I never thought I would see you again.” Rhodes’ voice is muffled by my hair that he has his face buried in.

I pull away from him slowly. While I feel fucking elated that he is alive, it still seems insane. A strange awkwardness settles in the air.

“This is weird,” I blurt, unable to hold back the thought.

Rhodes laughs, “You’re telling me.”

“Glad I’m not the only one.” I cringe remembering my reaction to him earlier, “I’m sorry about the way I reacted earlier. It’s not every day your Mum tells you that your brother and father aren’t actually dead.”

Rhodes cringes as well, “Yeah, it isn’t their finest moment that’s for sure.”

He scratches his head and blows out a breath.

We both stand there just looking at each other. Neither of us clearly know what to do or say. While it is clear we are both relieved that the other is actually here, ten years have passed. Neither of us know each other anymore.

I highly doubt his favourite superhero is still Spiderman.

“Um, so did Mum say how long she was going to be?” I say breaking the silence. I’m thankful no one else is around to witness our awkward interaction.

“I think she said ten minutes or so.”

I nod my head.

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