“Sounds revolting.”
She laughs. “Sometimes you’re so funny. Now go change. They’re gonna meet us at a diner in a few hours, and I need you to look not so homely and nerdy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She turns my head so that it faces the mirror. “Look at us, Poppy. There’s a reason that I have guys calling me daily and no one chases after you.”
Our reflections blink back at us. The homely twin with a haphazard ponytail and wisps of hair peeking out, no makeup on whatsoever, and big brown eyes concealed by too large of glasses, standing next to her identical twin wearing a too short mini skirt, fishnet stockings, and a crop top that barely covers her boobs. We couldn’t be anymore opposite, and yet, underneath my baggy clothes and glasses, is a girl who looks just like her.
“Tonight, we leave the homely twin at home and go out into the world as two sex goddesses on the prowl.”
Shrugging off her arm, I glare at her. “No way, Pippa. That’s not me.”
“Come on, Poppy. You need to do this. We need this!” she encourages.
“You meanyouneed this. You’ve been trying to get this Eddie guy to sleep with you since you met him.”
She backs away, smirking. “Unlike you, dear sister, I refuse to enter college a virgin.”
It’s not that I want to be a virgin. I’ve often romanticized and thought about what it would be like to meet a guy, have him sweep me off my feet, and then ravage me in the bedroom. I read enough romance novels to know what to expect; I just haven’t met the right guy to take my virginity yet.
“Please, Poppy. Do this for me, just this once. I need you.” Her bottom lip quivers, making me cave.
“Fine. I’ll go. But I refuse to dress like a slut. I’ll dress up and put on makeup, but my outfit will be tasteful and suitable for public.”
“Absolutely, there will be no hoochie mama outfits for you. I swear it on Hamilton Esquire Stevenson the Third.” She points to her favorite stuffed pig on the bed and grins too widely, knowing that a swear like that is binding. “Tonight’s going to be awesome!” she exclaims.
How wrong she was.
The second I see the two boys waiting for us outside the diner, I lose my shit.
“Absolutely not,” I screech, already turning toward our car.
The two boys twist to look our way. The taller one with messy brown hair, smashed beneath a backwards ball cap, wearing the baggiest jeans I’ve ever seen, is cute, I’ll give him that, but it’s the other one that has me seeing red.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Pippa whispers. “Stop acting weird. You’re embarrassing me.”
“Embarrassing you! Do you not realize who that is!” I yell, pointing at the handsome faced playboy with a wicked smile and too much damn charisma for someone barely eighteen.
His smile spreads as recognition flashes in his eyes.
“He’s Eddie’s friend. Now stop acting weird and come on,” she orders, dragging me by my arms.
We stop just in front of them, both of them looking like they threw on their nicest pair of clothes, which still lacks any type of fashion sense. The familiar boy is wearing baggy jeans with holes in the pockets and knees, and a button-up shirt that’s unbuttoned too many times, showing off a set of pecs I hate that I admire.
Immediately, my sister latches onto the arm of backward cap boy. “Eddie! So great to see you again.” She glances over at me and grins. “This is my twin, Poppy. Poppy, this is Eddie, and this is his friend Wesley.”
Wesley is all smiles, which is exactly why he’s about to feel my wrath. I march over and jab a finger into his chest, my fingertip bouncing uselessly off solid muscle.
“You!” I screech.
“Me?” he asks, pointing at himself like he’s genuinely surprised.
“You’re the kid who tried to steal my dad’s car.”
He laughs. “Triedbeing the keyword there.”
“You’re a felon.”
