Swallowing hard, I attempt to remain strong so she won’t know the fear I’m guarding.
“Look on the bright side,” I say, nudging her shoulder and pulling her close. “They say when your hair grows back, it could come in curly. Just like you always wanted. Maybe then the world could finally tell us apart.”
She laughs before more tears fill her eyes, then looks out again across the backyard.
“If,” she sniffles. “If it grows back. Besides, I never minded being your twin. Just think of all the fun we won’t be able to have anymore, pretending to be each other if my hair does come back curly. Or even if….”
She trails off, and my heart stops.
“Hey,” I say. “Don’t go there. When, and I do mean when your hair grows back, if it is curly, I will go all 1984 and perm mine to match. We’ll fool the world, B. Imagine how much fun that will be?”
We laugh lightly for a moment before I follow her gaze out across the yard, and we’re both weighed down again by the shrieking yells of my mother and father.
I turn and look at Belle. She’s a split image of me. Same nose, same lips, same fighting spirit. Her hair might be gone, her face a little slimmer from all the weight she has lost, but she is still my other half. I’ve been with her my whole life, even inside the womb. She has to beat cancer. I wouldn’t know how to live if she….
I shake my head and bury the thought, not wanting to think about what the doctor said earlier today after her checkup—not wanting to admit that her first round of chemo failed. She was already on borrowed time. She was given a small chance of beating the brain tumor that’s quickly been consuming her life since she was diagnosed earlier this year after suffering from headaches.
But we can’t give up. She can’t give up. Not now. I won’t let her.
My father’s voice barrels through the night air, attempting to stop my mother from fighting with him any further. After a few short moments, my mother’s voice can be heard shouting only a few words, which are immediately followed by a slamming door and the start of a car engine. Tires peel out of our driveway. I’m only too sure my father was the one who escaped. My sister’s fight with cancer has taken its toll on all of us and serves to be the one thing that’s tearing this family apart.
Attempting to lighten the mood, I tell my sister a secret I’ve been holding in for far too long.
“Hey B, I never told you. I bumped into Rex Roberts after practice two days ago. He sure is persistent,” I laugh.
I smile, remembering how I spotted him leaning against my car, waiting for me. The way he smiled as I came closer took my breath away. My heart sped up, and I couldn’t even look him in the eye. He held my hand to write his number on it with a red pen, and I could barely contain my shaking. I look at my right hand and grin, barely making out the last few numbers he wrote. I won’t lie. I didn’t have it in me to wash it off. Actually, I wrote it down in my diary and stashed it away with the feelings he gives me. Ones I know I shouldn’t have and definitely should never pursue.
My sister rolls her eyes. “Yeah, persistent with you and every other girl at Lincoln High. I thought you didn’t like him, Gwen?”
I pretend not to be affected by her jab as I shrug and admit, “I don’t know, B. I kind of do. I don’t know what it is, but he has this pull on me, you know? Like, I can’t help but be drawn to him. It kind of scares me, but it’s addicting, too. It makes me kind of want to go for it. Even though I know I shouldn’t.”
My sister snorts, disapprovingly. Having confessed more than I thought I would about my feelings for the school’s notorious playboy, I sit silently, wishing she would say something.
“Haven’t you ever felt that way about someone?” I ask, sheepishly.
Belle shrugs, “Maybe one day. If I’m lucky,” she says.
We fall silent, and when I can’t think of anything else to say, I feel for my iPod inside my hoodie pocket. Grabbing it out, I take one side of the headphones and hand her the other. She takes it happily and smiles up at me.
Music has always been a connecting force between Belle and me. We always joke that our mother must have played a lot of music to us inside her womb because we’re both addicted to the same lyrics and beats. It has to be the twin thing.
Leaning against one another, I push play as Celine Dion’s “Because You Loved Me” fills the speakers. It’s our sister theme song, one we have always shared a secret love for, as corny as it may be.
As the song enters the second verse, Belle breaks the silence. “Gwen,” she whispers.
“Yeah, B?”
“Please promise me you’ll never settle.” My brow furrows as I stare out into the night, and one face flashes before my eyes. Rex Roberts. “Promise me you’ll always make every second count. That you’ll never end up like mom and dad.” My throat closes, tears threaten my eyes. “And when you fall in love, Gwen, if I’m not here, promise me you’ll love enough for the both of us.”
* * *
My eyes flash open and I try to slow my breathing. My hand raises to my forehead, now damp with sweat from the dream I just had. I shut my eyes tightly as a small tear escapes, rolls down my cheek, and my heart breaks.
It was so real. She was so real. I brush the tear aside and will the sob burning in my chest back down where it came from.
A tiny sliver of light creeps through tightly drawn shades as I piece together where I am — and who I am with.
Damn it.
