"Come on, Addison!" Iris drones on at me. I tug my ponytail higher on my head, to where it's almost on top of my head but not quite. Iris very carefully re-clips the pale blue bow to the back of her hair.
"Hey, you're one to talk! You're not ready yet!" I retort with a smile. Iris is my twin sister. Yes, we are identical. No, we don't make out. Please stop asking that. It's weird. I tear my eyes away from my foundation brush and my reflection in the mirror and look over at Iris as she primps and fluffs herself. She's wearing a very pale gray colored, loose flowing skirt with pastel pink and purple flowers sprawled across it. Above that, she borrows my cream fabric belt, and she has her white scoop neck shirt, which is tucked at my belt. To top it off, Iris has her favorite pale denim jacket with the frayed edges on top.
I do my final finishing swipes with my brush, and assess my own outfit. I have my brand new, oversized, gray Hollister shirt that rolls a little at the bottom and on the edges of the sleeves. The combination of the random dark gray and white stitching makes it look like I have a surfer vibe. I have on my (ungodly) tight, blue, torn shorts (which I also got from Hollister), which works well for me because my hair has those perfect sea-salt beach waves that are in style right now.
"Hey, Iris," I say as I slide behind her out of our bathroom and spot my black Vans, "Can I borrow a pair of black socks?"
Rule #1: Always wear black socks with black shoes.
"Sure, they're probably in with my socks. Pull me out some that won't show above my Vans while you're over there," Iris says as I pad down the hall. I take a sharp right into our room, and sure enough, the box I'm looking for (ironically labeled 'SOCKS') is right here.
"Well, clearly I'm blind," I mumble to myself as I snag two pairs of socks out.
I retreat down the hall, poking my head into the bathroom to see if Iris still remains. I sigh as I shake my head as I quickly flick off the light and walk briskly down to the living room.
I toss the socks to Iris, which she catches with a graceful ease, "Nice catch," I call as I sit down next to her as I begin to put on my socks.
"That's what 5 years of softball does," She smirks at me.
"Oh yes," I laugh, "And all swimming has done for me is made me even clumsier."
I finish tying my shoes and take a moment to marvel at how aesthetically pleasing Iris' white Vans and my black Vans are together. Were Yin and Yang. Black and White. Addison and Iris.
"You girls ready?" Our Dad calls from the laundry room, and I can hear he's already got the car fired up.
"Yeah!" We respond in unison. I run back to our room to grab my backpack, and I feel the physical stress on my bicep as I curl my bag of bricks (or formally known as textbooks and binders) onto my shoulder.
I can already see Ben, my little brother, in the car, and Iris has already stolen shotgun from me. I vault into the back seat and my extra 20 lbs of pain and I make an unsettling thud on the beige leather of my dad's car.
The drive to our new school is hardly anything. It's no more than five minutes max. Which is perfectly fine with me, means more time to sleep in.
As soon as we pull up, I feel a surge of nervous energy pulse down into my stomach and down my legs. I take a deep breathe, and I remind myself I have literally nothing to lose here. I'm a nobody.
"Have a good day girls," My dad says as winks at us and I can't help but smile. I'm proud of my dad. Being a single parent with three kids is no easy task.
I fall behind Iris, and we stride into our new school oozing confidence. Iris has always been popular, but I had to fight my way to where I am now. I was the weird kid when I was little. Now, I finally have a fresh start at high school. After all, I don't have much to lose. We're half way though junior year. So I have a year and a half left here.
I hear the bell ring as soon as I finish emptying my back pack into my locker, and with a quick glance at my wrist to remind me of my schedule (which I wrote on my wrist in sharpie), I'm off to pre-calc.
