Chasing Betsy (English)

  I turn silent as I wait for their reactions. It’s like a slow motion as Amanda’s face changes. She is now staring at me with wide eyes. I risk a glance at Jack and sees him staring at me intently with an unreadable expression on his face. I don’t like the way he is looking at me because I feel a shiver down my spine and feel drowned with his intense blue eyes. I look the other way as I try to collect my thoughts. “Oh my God! That is so cool,” Amanda beams. I give her a confident smile. I guess it was . . .okay? “So what does it mean?” She adds after a moment. The smile freezes on my face. To be totally honest, I have no idea as well. But of course I will never tell her that. “It means My God,” I say calmly. The most important thing which I’ve learned from being a con-artist is to still stay as close as you can to the truth. So when all hell break loose, you can still find a way to stay alive. I think I d

  I am sweating profusely after getting off the ferry. The yellow blouse I am wearing is also soaked with my sweat. Luckily, I am wearing some pants, I feel a bit comfortable. The seaport is too crowded since it’s Friday. The pink suitcase I am carrying is still heavy. It’s really hard to get home to Sequim, a beautiful small town with about 65 miles west of Seattle. The port was also too crowded. It’s five o’clock in the afternoon and rush hour. I have already booked a car rental but for some reason it has not arrived yet. A few minutes later, someone stops in front of me. A burly man, who looks like he is just my age, comes out of a white van. Heck, he is quite easy in the eyes. The man smiles as he approaches me. Does he know me or is he really just obsessed with my beauty? Oh well, maybe he is just really like this to his potential passengers. As I continue staring at him, he starts scratching on his forehead. “Betsy, it’s really you! It’s me

    I am left speechless with his question. I did not expect it. I thought he’d say, “Oh, so it’s not Yuri Haruko?” or “What are you doing here, you freaking liar?” I can also see the mixture of shock and astonishment on my colleagues faces. I know that his question is not innocent and that there is something else lying behind it. But still, I have to give him an answer since the others are looking at us and waiting for my response as well. “Well. . . I think they’re great people,” I manage to say, trying to save myself. The corner of Jack’s lips mysteriously rises. He adjusts himself on his seat and leans on the backrest of his swivel chair. “Of course,” he says, nodding in agreement. There’s a sudden spark on his eyes. “How about their language?” Of course he remembers! “I . . . Er… I,” I struggle to find the answer to his question. It seems like he has a plan of where this conversation is going. “I’m sorry,

  I don’t understand what he’s trying to say. I heard him but it hasn’t fully registered to me. “I don’t understand,” I say slowly, confused. “I’m not the real Jack Wills,” he repeats patiently. It makes me even more confused. Thinking that it’s all a joke and that he is currently making fun of me, I cackle with laughter.  I laugh so hard that I have to hold on my stomach. I look at him again and is stunned to see that he is giving me a serious look. I stop laughing and lamely stare at him. “I don’t . . . understand.” “Jack Wills is my brother. My twin brother,” he says. I want to faint. I take a hold on the chair which he offered earlier to support myself from fainting. I am so not prepared with his revelation.  Jack is watching me closely. My throat feels dry. I help myself and slowly take a seat on the empty chair. My gaze lands on his desk. I notice the untouched bottle of water on it. Without asking

  Devyn Wills is an artist. He is a sculptor. Not just a sculptor but he is actually well-known in the field of art. Some of his art pieces have already been displayed in most of the popular art galleries. These include New York, London, Paris, Singapore, and even Japan. I feel so low as I read the article because I now realized that what really happened the past few days was not a dream. And that the secret that he has revealed to me is not a prank. He really is Devyn Wills. “What are you reading? Why do you look so forlorn?” I almost jump off my seat as I hear Pam’s voice behind me. “What the-” I gasp in surprise, turning around to face her. I put a hand on my chest as I calm myself down. “You almost gave me a heart attack!” “I’ve been calling you for the past three minutes. You kept on ignoring me,” she defensively states. She glances at my computer. “Who’s that article all about?” I hastily close the page for her not to see it anymore