It Was You (2 page)

Sprinting down the stairs. Grabbing two red cups off the kitchen counter, cups that ended up being full of straight vodka. I’d hesitated only a second before deciding that getting fall-down drunk was the best way to burn the image of my sister blowing Kevin out of my mind. I’d downed both cups and I was pretty sure I’d grabbed another. But that was where my memory grew hazy. I vaguely remembered leaning on Tana as we walked home, sobbing loudly and puking into the gutter every block or so.

A stellar last night of summer.

I forced my eyes open, hoping the blinding morning light would burn the images out of my head. It did nothing except punish me as the rays streamed through my bedroom window. I shifted in the sheets, realizing I was still in my tank top and skirt. I kicked them off of me and sat up, steadying myself with my hands as the vodka took a hammer to my skull.

I could see myself in the mirror that was attached to the vanity across the room. My hair was a rat’s nest and my mascara looked like something I’d seen baseball players put under their eyes. Some sort of Medusa-like raccoon.

Ugh.

I laid back down in the bed, grabbed my pillow and hugged it to my chest. As bad as I felt from the alcohol, it was Annika that nearly made me sick.

It wasn’t that I cared about Kevin. I didn’t. Sure, he was some hot guy that I’d spent way too much time drooling over. For whatever reason, I'd put him up on some sort of imaginary pedestal, had decided that he was the one guy I most wanted to get with. And, if my slut of a sister hadn’t been with him last night, I very much would’ve liked to mess around with him.

But, as usual, Annika was there. Where I wanted to be. And where I didn’t want her to be. Where I could’ve strangled her for once again making me feel small and inferior.

She loved to be the center of attention. She loved that guys loved to look at her. And she loved to make sure I knew that, even though we were identical twins, guys preferred her over me. Always.

This was nothing new with Annika. She'd started in on me in first grade, sidling up to the kids I'd made friends with, making sure she was teacher's pet and not me. It had only gotten worse as we’d grown older. Trying to steal my friends in middle school. Tana had always been immune but my other friends hadn't been so lucky. I thought about Michael Stratton, the first boy I ever had a crush on. Fifth grade. He sat in front of me in homeroom and, after months of daydreaming about him, I'd finally worked up the nerve to pass him a note in class. As soon as I'd tossed the note in his direction, Annika had innocently raised her hand and told Mrs. Wilson what I'd done. She'd retrieved the folded up scrap of notebook paper and read it out loud to the class. And everyone in our fifth grade class suddenly knew that I liked Michael Stratton and wanted him to come over for Popsicles. I'd turned the color of a tomato and Annika had just smiled in satisfaction.

We hated one another.

There was no twin bond. No special link to one another. No ability to finish one another’s thoughts or sentences. No special connection.

I felt more connected to snakes at the zoo.

I closed my eyes, grateful that the spinning seemed to have abated, and sighed. More than ever, I was relieved to be heading for college. Away from high school and away from living on top of my menacing sister.

But Annika was going, too. And even though we’d be living apart, I worried the campus wouldn’t be big enough for the both of us. It had been my number one concern when I'd accepted my admission to State and I’d fooled myself into thinking that just not sharing space with her would make it all better.

But after the previous night?

I wasn’t sure I could share the same continent with her.

The door to my room swung open and smacked into the wall. I winced, the sound like someone clanging cymbals an inch from my head.

“
Mom said to get up,” Annika said.

With a concerted effort, I managed to prop myself up on my elbows. Her hair was wet, her face make-up free. She wore capri-length sweatpants and a T-shirt that was just tight enough to make her boobs look perfect. We had the same boobs and mine never looked like that, dammit.

“Knock much?” I asked.

She sniffed the air and frowned. “It smells like you bathed in vodka.” She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “You need to be more careful how much you drink. You know you’re a lightweight.”

“Leave. Now.”

She leaned against the door and ran a hand through her damp hair. “Now, now. Don’t get all pissy with me just because your boyfriend wanted me to suck him off.” She smiled. “Maybe he thought it was you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I snapped, wincing as my voice reverberated through my head. “And I’m pretty sure he knew he was with the skanky twin.”

“
Oh, he knew when we were done,” she said, her smile widening. “Trust me. No way you could’ve gotten him off like that.”

I shook my head in disgust. “Yeah. Takes a certain talent. And lack of pride.”

“Jealousy does not look good on you, Abs,” Annika said. “And neither do skinny jeans. You don’t have the ass for them.” She winked at me. “Breakfast is in ten minutes. Try not to smell like a hobo.” She raised her middle finger in my direction, then slammed the door on her way out.

I fired my pillow at the door and collapsed back in the bed.

I was wrong.

I couldn’t share the same planet with her.

My head pounded, and not just from my killer hangover. Reality was crashing down. Hard. School started in less than a week. Annika and I were due to move into dorms on Monday. And all I wanted to do was get as far away from my sister as possible.

I surveyed my room. A few boxes were stacked against one wall, half-filled with clothes and shoes, belts and headbands. A pile of books sat on top of my bookcase, favorites that I wanted to bring along. San Diego State was only twenty minutes from home but part of me felt like I was moving across country. I wanted my favorite books and other familiar things that I could bring with me, things that would comfort me, things that would remind me I wasn't alone.

But I wasn't going to be alone, I reminded myself.

Because Annika was coming with me.

I rubbed my forehead and stifled a groan. I couldn't do it. Last night had been the final straw. I was sick of living in Annika's shadow, tired of wondering how she was going to muck up my life next. I wanted a clean slate, a fresh start, and I wasn't going to get that if I my sister was around.

I swung my legs to the floor, squeezing my eyes shut as the jackhammer pounded my skull. Why had I gotten so totally drunk last night? It wasn't like me.

But the decision I was about to make wasn't like me, either.

THREE

The smell of bacon and eggs made me want to vomit. Gingerly, I made my way down the stairs, wincing every time my foot made contact with the wood. I took short, shallow breaths, hoping this would keep the nausea at bay. All I wanted to do was lay back down. Or die.

Dad looked up from his newspaper. He was parked at the kitchen table, a plate heaped with bacon and eggs.

“
Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

I swallowed my revulsion as I breathed in the smell of breakfast and managed a feeble hello. I sank into my chair, gripping the edge of it as if holding on would keep me upright.

He glanced at me. “Not hungry?”

I shook my head once. I couldn't manage any more without it feeling like a firing squad was shooting bullets at my brain. I didn't think it was possible to feel worse now than I had when I'd first woken up. But I hadn't been moving around then.

“Rough night?”

His question was casual and I was grateful. He had no illusions about his daughters, at least not in the drinking department. He knew we went out and he knew we drank occasionally. We'd gotten a stern talking to about drinking and driving and the requisite lecture that they didn't want us drinking underage. But they knew better. And we'd been responsible. I never drove if I drank and I was pretty sure Annika didn't, either. One redeeming quality in my bitch of a sister.

But what Dad knew about as far as alcohol consumption was vastly different than what he knew about Annika's boys. I didn't know if he really was naïve about her sexual adventures or if he was just in denial. Whatever the case, even I agreed that the less he knew about my sister's sexual adventures, the better.

“
I assume you walked home?”

I managed a nod.

He speared a forkful of eggs. “Good. I don't ever want to hear about you drinking and driving.”

“
I know,” I mumbled.

Annika sailed in to the kitchen. While I'd struggled to make myself look as un-hobo like as possible, she'd straightened her hair, put on make-up and changed into a hot pink tube dress.

She planted a kiss on Dad's cheek. “Hey, Daddy.”

He glanced at her. “Hi, sweetheart. You guys go to the same party last night?”

Annika poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Uh-huh.”

He shook his head. I knew what he was thinking. For twins that were identical in every physical way, we were as different as night and day. Her alcohol tolerance was evidence of that.

As was her bitchiness.

“
No driving?”

She shook her head, wide-eyed. “Of course not, Daddy.”

He stood and took his plate and coffee mug to the sink. “Good.”

I wanted him to ask, “And no blow jobs? No sex in the closet with guys you don't know?” Just to see what kind of response she would give.

But he didn't.

“
I gotta run. Open House starts in a half hour and your mom's already there.”

Our parents were a real estate team, had been for the last twenty years. It was actually how they met, in some real estate class fresh out of high school. Two decades later, they were one of the top-selling teams in San Diego County. Their inventory and sales record were a testament to that.

Annika plucked a piece of bacon off the platter on the table. “And I'm off to the beach.”

“
You all packed up?”

“
Almost.” She  smiled before taking a dainty sip of coffee. “But it's only twenty minutes away. And you know I'll be back a lot. I'll miss you too much to stay away for very long.”

I wanted to roll my eyes but I was pretty sure they would feel like boulders banging into my brain. I managed a frown instead. She was such a complete suck up. And my parents swallowed her act hook, line and sinker.

He ruffled her hair as he walked by. “I know you won't, Annie.”

She shot a glance in my direction, a satisfied smile on her face. The urge to vomit was overwhelming, and not just because of the lingering effects of the gallon of vodka I'd downed the night before. As far as my parents were concerned, she was the perfect one. The one who was charming, the one who played the role of dutiful, loving daughter.

If they only knew, I thought. I wished I had the guts to spill right then, to tell my dad about all of Annika's binges, all of her guys, all of her stupid, reckless decisions.

“
Wait,” I said, my voice hoarser than usual.

Annika smirked at the sound. “I'm outta here.” She flounced out of the kitchen, her ass almost visible beneath the short tube dress.

Dad turned to look at me. “I only have a minute, kiddo. Don't want to leave your mom hanging.”

“
I know.” I fingered the tablecloth, pinching the edge between my thumb and forefinger. “About packing...”

He grinned. “I know. I've seen your room. You're nowhere near ready, either.”

I swallowed. “I know.”

“
Work on it today. Get it done.”

“
It's not that.” I took a deep breath. I felt wobbly inside, as much from the hangover as from the decision I was about to share. “I'm not going to be packing.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

I shook my head.

“
Why's that? Not bringing anything with you?”

“
No,” I said slowly. “Because I'm not going.”

FOUR

Dad set his keys down on the table. “What do you mean you're not going?”

I took a deep breath. “I just...I think I need to do something different.”

He rubbed his jaw. “Well, not going to college like we've talked about for the last few years certainly would be different.”

I heard what he was thinking but not saying. Not just different. Unacceptable.

“I don't mean not go at all,” I told him. “I just mean I don't want to go to State.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Isn't it a little late in the game to be changing your plans, Ab?”

I let go of the tablecloth and let my hand fall back into my lap. “Maybe.”

He frowned. “Why?”