Just for Clicks by McDowell Kara

Author:McDowell, Kara [McDowell, Kara]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Amberjack Publishing
Published: 2019-02-18T16:00:00+00:00

If I thought my memories of prom were tainted by an awkward goodnight high five, that’s nothing compared to the betrayal I feel now that I know the date was orchestrated by our mothers. Sure, I used Jackson too. But only because Mom put me in the position of having to compete with my twin sister. Add that to the fact that she’s literally been shopping me around to TV networks without my consent, and any trace of guilt I felt for reading Mom’s journal vanishes that night as I open the pages.

I read all about her pregnancy. It’s weird to see her write “the baby” when it should say “the babies,” although it’s not new information for me. Years ago, she told Poppy and me that we were a surprise. Well, one of us was, anyway. Money was tight, my parents didn’t have health insurance, and they could not afford to have any ultrasounds done while she was pregnant. When she went to the hospital, she assumed she would come home with one baby. And then—surprise! Twins!

The confusing thing is that she doesn’t mention money troubles in her journal, and it seems like she went to plenty of doctor’s appointments. I turn to an entry dated November 23. My birthday.

A piece of paper that had been tucked in between the pages of the journal falls to my lap.

Ashley,

You’re living the life I want. If I can’t have it, maybe this baby girl can.

I don’t want her.

I hope you do.

I read the note again. And then again. I read it half a dozen times, trying to make sense of the words, but it’s like the letter and Mom’s journal are pieces from two different jigsaw puzzles.

I turn my eyes to the entry dated November 23.

My baby girl is here. She’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

That’s it. Nothing else. I read it again.

Her baby girl. Singular. One baby. I pick up the note and read it again. It’s difficult to see the words through the tears that are pooling behind my eyes. It doesn’t matter though. I already have them memorized.

I don’t want her.

I hope you do.

A tear breaks free and falls onto the page, blurring the old, blue ink.

I close the journal, unsure if I want to know what comes next. Ten seconds later, I open it again, knowing I don’t really have a choice.

The next entry is dated November 24. The handwriting is a messy scribble, as if Mom was writing in a hurry.

I don’t know where to start. We still don’t have a name. Jason likes Poppy. I like Claire. You’d think we would have chosen before the baby was born but every time I tried to talk about it with Jason, he would laugh and kiss me. “Whatever name we don’t use, we’ll use it for the next one.”

We planned on having six babies. When we got married I wanted four. He wanted five. For some reason, six was the compromise.

It took almost three years to get pregnant.

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