Zach and Abby

33. - Edited

Abby - Edited.

I was following close behind Wes. Everywhere, college students were rushing and shouting and all heading in different directions, I could barely walk a step without bumping into someone. I didn’t think it was possible for this many people to stay behind during winter break. Glendale could in no way compare to this place. The number of students was probably triple here at MSU.

Somehow, Wesley navigated like Columbus sailing through the ocean. Numerous people recognized him, the nicknamed golden boy on campus. No one paid any mind to me, no one had any idea the girl practically glued to his back was his twin sister.

He had the phone pressed to his ear, using his height to try and locate Jess. For the past ten minutes, it’d been a back and forth game of I think I see you! Wait, where are you? Nevermind, that wasn’t you.

My plane left in less than twelve hours. Not knowing when I’d get the chance to come home again, Wes wanted to introduce me to my little sister.

She’d just gotten back from a semester abroad, landing in America to the news that she had another brother and a sister. I hadn’t spoken to her yet. I knew I’d need a minute to get really wrap my head around who I was talking to and sounding like a mumbling mess over the phone was not the first impression I wanted to make.

Wes told me he broke the news about Michael. He said neither of them really knew how to grieve that loss, how to move on from it having never met him. I tried to help best I could, I answered any questions he had about the brother he never got to throw a football around with.

Out of nowhere, a hand appeared in front of me and I took it, letting Wes pull me forward until we finally came to an opening. Most students were heading down the path leading away from the main quad. We seemed to be the only two people heading up the path.

I stepped up next to Wes, having an idea of what she looked like in my head but not too confident I could point her out with this many people still around. A few seconds later, the crowd thinned out enough to leave only a few students hurrying their way past us. The only who stayed was Jess.

I can’t remember who hugged who first, who was last to let go. I believe everyone gets one best moment of their life. One minute that makes everything leading up to it worth it.

Their wedding day, holding their newborn child for the first time, meeting their soulmate. Mine, as of then, was finding my family – gripping tightly on to my little sister, almost afraid if I let go, she’d disappear.

The first thing I noticed was her height. She had to have had at least four inches on me. Wes forgot to mention that earlier, he was the first to say anything about it out loud, laughing hysterically to himself. We had the same dark, brown eyes. Other than that, I couldn’t pinpoint any similarities but Wesley insisted we were clones.

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say but hi, I guess? I’m Jessica.” She smiled and I saw Michael. I saw more of him in our siblings then I did myself.

“And I’m Abby,” I replied, even though she already knew that.

Standing here, finally meeting the family I never had, it was bittersweet. The first person I wanted to tell was Mom, how I’d have a brother and sister looking out for me after she was gone. I wanted to show her pictures and meet them but it was never going to happen. I couldn’t push away the anger that was beginning to spark when I thought about going back home, back to face her.

She knew, she must have known what she did. She always said she was strong but I never thought she meant strong enough to take two kids away from the rest of their family.

I didn’t know how I’d sit by her bed, talking with her and not bring up the two people who, over the course of one week, now meant more to me than anyone would ever know. I wanted to ask what else she kept from, what else I’d learn about myself in these coming months.

And then I wanted to tell Zach. I wanted to watch his face when he found out Wesley Parker was my brother. I wanted to hear his side of that story, if Wes had been telling the truth.

Nothing was going to turn out like I wanted. Maybe three months ago, it’d have been a possibility but now, not so much. My mom didn’t need the guilt sitting on her death bed and if I could label what Zach and I were at the moment, I’d need to invent a new word.

We talked until I absolutely had to be at the airport to make my flight. We talked about the big things, little things, things we actually didn’t even really care about. But we had two decades to make up for. It never fell silent because someone always had more to say.

I felt like I’d finally broken the old routine. Over this last week, it was like I’d created a new normal.

I said goodbye to Annie before Wes drove me to the airport. Jess tagged along, saying she’d take every minute she could get with her sister. On the way there, she finally asked the question I never got to.

Sticking her head in between the two front seats, she looked at both of us. “Which one of you is older?” Wes whipped his head towards me, like it never dawned on him that one of us was born before the other.

“What time were you born?” He asked, pulling into the drop-off station by my terminal.

“10:52.”

“10:37.”

He punched the air in celebration, the new information going to straight to his ego. Jess rolled her eyes as we got out of the car, “he’ll never get over that one.”

People don’t write books on how to say goodbye to the siblings you’ve known for a week. There was a subtle awkwardness to it because you didn’t have the affirmation that you’d ever see each other again. But that’s what made it special, it made us want to work towards building an actual relationship, making the three of us as close as we could possibly get having gone twenty years apart.

The four hour plane ride put thoughts in my head that maybe I’d switch my major to writing. Maybe I’d write that book.

I tried not to think too much about what lay outside the airport doors once I landed. When I actually stepped outside of them, I regretted not planning ahead. Four hundred hours couldn’t have prepared me for what I walked into.