“I told you, Mom,” I yell. “I’m not hungry.”
The door inches open, and Erin pokes her head around it.
“What do you want?”
She shuffles inside and shuts the door quietly behind her.
“What are you wearing?” I frown. “You look like you’re going to a funeral.”
Her black shapeless below-the-knee dress and buttoned-up cardigan do nothing for her figure. Mom’s taken Erin shoppingcountless times, but they always return with the same type of clothes. I’ve seen less conservative outfits at a Sunday church service. When Mom and I go shopping, we burn through Dad’s platinum credit card with glee, but Erin treats it as a chore. Considering how miserable he makes us, we may as well take advantage of the opportunity.
“It’s the last day of school.” Erin blushes and plays with the hem of her dowdy dress. “I thought I’d dress up.”
“Seriously, Erin, you look like a nun,” I say. “Why don’t you borrow something? We’re the same size.”
I jump out of bed, wearing only a crop top and panties. Her eyes bulge at my tiny lace thong. She probably wears huge white bloomers.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Erin murmurs. “We don’t exactly have the same style.”
“We’re almost eighteen, not eighty.” I roll my eyes. “It won’t kill you to look or act your age. We’re moving soon. Why don’t you leave with a bang?”
She chews her bottom lip thoughtfully, the way she always does when she’s conflicted about something.
We used to be close when we were kids. Her quiet personality complemented mine. I was the performer, and she was the perfect audience. She always encouraged me, clapping when I danced and did silly things, but she was too shy and self-conscious to take part herself, even though I could tell she secretly wanted to. For identical twins, I seemed to have got all the confidence genes.
“What is it?” I ask. She’s obviously holding something back. “I know we’re not as close as we used to be.” I soften my tone. “But you can still talk to me.”
She stays quiet.
“Come on,” I encourage. “Spit it out then.”
“Is it true that you and Max have split up?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with hope. “I heard some girls talking about it yesterday in gym class.”
“We were never really together,” I reply. “We went on a few dates. That’s all. He’s not my type.”
Her lips twitch into a tiny smile. “Oh, okay…”
“You like him, don’t you?”
She quickly glances over her shoulder, even though the door’s closed.
“Don’t worry. Dad’s already left. He’s away for the weekend, remember? Some business trip.” That’s why this weekend will be the perfect time to meet the guys. “I won’t tell him that his little angel has a crush.”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it a crush…”
“You can’t lie to me,” I say. “It’s written all over your face. You like Max. Admit it.”
I still don’t get Max’s appeal, but I can understand how a clean-cut hockey player seems enticing to Erin. She’s watched too many movies about sports stars falling for the nerdy girls.
Erin would get a lot of male attention if she put herself out there. Her ugly clothes and lack of effort don’t help. Appearance is everything in a school like ours.
“I guess Max is cute,” she says reluctantly.
“So borrow a dress,” I say. “He’ll notice you then.”
“I’m not like you, Sarah.” She sighs wistfully. “Your clothes won’t look good on me.”
“Have you looked in the mirror lately? We’re identical twins!” I say. “What looks good on me looks good on you.”
