Page 24 of My Twin Sister's Ex

“What did you do to deserve that?” Jessilyn demanded. She was cute this way, full of righteous indignation. Trying to defend my honor.

“I got caught fighting in the hall at school. Both times.”

“Fighting? Did you start the fight?” Jessilyn asked.

“Which one?”

“Either of them?”

“No,” I said quietly. Both times I’d been defending someone being bullied. “But it doesn’t matter. Fighting gets you suspended. And I participated.”

“I guess that counts. I’d better stay far away from you now.”

“Very funny,” I said. “Shouldn’t we be running through our lines some more?”

“Yes. I do have to go soon. I have work at six.”

I looked back down at my script. We’d spent a lot of time talking and not as much time practicing. But I liked talking to Jessilyn. She was easy to converse with.

We ran through the scene two more times before Jessilyn had to go.

I’d taken the day off work. Uncle Ryan had told me that he was fine with me working fewer hours if it meant I got to graduate. Somehow, we’d have to stretch our money this month. I went home, ate dinner, and focused on getting my homework done. My dad was still at work, or he was out drinking. I wasn’t sure which. I was just glad he wasn’t around.

I went to my room and took a seat on my bed pulling out the homework I had for the day. I’d started writing down my assignments in a planner so I could keep track of what I had to get done. It was something Mrs. Monroe had suggested many times, but I’d never bothered to do. But I was serious about graduating, and I didn’t want my grades to slip on any of my other classes.

It was completely out of character for me to care so much. Usually, I neared the end of the term with loads of missing assignments. But right now, I only had two missing assignments. It was a lot less stressful not to have to worry about getting so much extra work done.

My dad never seemed to care how my grades were doing. He was too wrapped up in his own life. It would be easy to blame my lack of effort on him, but I knew I was responsible for my own decisions.

I completed three assignments before my dad came home, but I didn’t come out to greet him. I kept a mini-fridge in my room since my dad kept our own fridge so gross. I walked over to it and pulled out an energy drink. I popped it open and drank from the can. My uncle gave me the mini-fridge for my seventeenth birthday because he knew how much I hated sharing the fridge with my dad. I kept my own milk in there and a few boxes of cereal in my room too. It gave me less reason to go out and see my dad.

He wasn’t always awful. Sometimes he could be fun to talk to. Those were the good days. But there were plenty of bad days, too, when he ended up yelling and throwing things or breaking windows. I’d never told Jackilyn how bad it could get. I hadn’t wanted her to know about that part of my life. I knew she had a good home life. A nice house in an expensive neighborhood. A mom who didn’t work and baked cookies for when she came home from school. I’d been over there enough times to eat the cookies myself.

I walked back to my bed, where my backpack was sitting, and I took a seat. I liked to keep my room tidy since it was the one place I could control in the house. An old patchwork quilt was spread across my mattress. My mom had made it for me when I was little, and it was soft and comforting to sleep with. Sitting on the table next to my bed, I had a picture of my mom and me together from when I was younger.

I pulled out the script for the play and opened a recording app on my phone. I recorded myself reading my lines, skipping over Jessilyn’s parts. I’d go back and get used to her lines once I’d learned my own. That way, I’d know when to come in with my speaking parts.

I kept my voice low. I didn’t want my dad to hear me talking and come into my room to ask me what I was doing. When I finished the recording, I hit stop on my phone and then played the clip back. I read along, cringing at how my voice sounded. I really needed to work on getting better. But first, I needed to get it memorized.

I spent the next hour working hard on implanting my lines in my mind. I was grateful to Jessilyn for giving me the idea of recording myself reading the lines. It was a huge help. The more I ran through the lines, the easier it got to retain what I was supposed to say next.

I kept imagining Jessilyn saying her lines, remembering the expressiveness in her voice when she’d read the script earlier that day. She was so beautiful and so talented. I could see why she would want to go to school for theater. She really was amazing at it. I’d caught myself staring at her lips several times as she’d read her part, imagining what it would be like to kiss them. My face had gotten so hot whenever we’d skipped over the kissing parts.

I’d seen her in kissing scenes before, so I knew it probably wasn’t that big of a deal to her, but it was my first time kissing someone while acting out a scene.

I continued reading through my lines until sleep overcame me. I ended up passing out in my bed with my script still in front of me.

I woke up the next morning and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. My backpack and notebooks were still sprawled across the foot of my bed, and my script was already starting to look tattered. The corners curled inward.

I got up, showered, and went back to my room to get dressed and eat a bowl of cereal. I could hear my dad moving around in the kitchen, banging pans. Sometimes he liked to make eggs in the morning. I usually just tried to stay out of his way. He wasn’t much of a morning person.

My phone buzzed as I finished my bowl of cereal, and I looked down to see a text from Jessilyn.

Jessilyn:When I got home from work last night, Jackilyn was even grumpier about the fact that we’re working together. You’d think you two were still dating the way she was acting.

I was glad we weren’t still together. Jackilyn’s behavior right now was showing me that.

Me:Sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?

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