The Other Twin

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-One

*My Cinderella Night*

The buzzing whir of fan blades served as the only sound in our room. With the AC unexpectedly breaking down, my parents resorted to the ancient fan lying around in our attic as a substitute, until they could call the repairman. But the sweat sliding down my back was indication enough that the once-white-now-yellow fan was only pushing around the musty Californian air. I had a feeling the thing was in need of repair itself. Still, the oscillating humming was a welcome accompaniment to the the otherwise suffocating silence between Karyn and me.

For the past half hour, Karyn's lingering gaze has been trained on me with unnerving intensity. And I'd been studiously ignoring it for equally as long. She tried not to make it obvious, but I sensed her fleeting glances, as if the long looks would be enough to guilt me into going to Formal. I could have spared myself the discomfort by using the computer downstairs but I already had my notes and laptop set out on my desk. More importantly, I wanted to make it clear to Karyn that I wasn't intimidated by her; I reserved the same right to this room as her. If she was surprised by my sudden attitude though, she didn't show it. The only hint of remorse I'd seen on her was when I declined her offer to be driven to school in the mornings.

Pulling the front of my short away to fan myself, I brought my pen out from behind my ear, making a quick edit as I reread my essay draft. It was the only major assignment I had left before school ended a short four days later. Mr. Ze'ev hadn't specified how much the paper would count towards our grade, but I intended to get an A. While my grades hadn't been impacted too greatly during my week of absence, I'd dropped in history after messing up on a make up test. I hoped to bring it back up through a combination of perfect grades and making myself memorable to him as an A-worthy student. Nodding to myself, I proceeded to type out the next paragraph, dimly aware of Karyn moving about the room.

My pinky had just hit the tab key when Karyn let out a noticeable huff from behind me. She appeared to be struggling to replicate the "Braided Bangs" tutorial she was watching. Karyn was leaving early to go to Hannah's house for a pre-Formal session with her friends. She'd already folded her yellow dress in her duffel bag - taking care to hang the pink one meant for me directly in my line of vision - along with her favorite white heels. I assumed that she planned to change at Hannah's but wanted to get her hair and makeup done at home.

Applying the usual components of her daily makeup - gloss, eyeliner, mascara, shadow, albeit more glittery for Formal - was like second nature to her. But the hairstyle was a variation of the French braid to her chagrin, which proved to be a very frustrating feat. Her lipstick was smudging from being repeatedly flattened into a grimace, but I didn't offer to help. And her pride wouldn't let her accept any. With a growl from the back of her throat, Karyn finally stopped fumbling with the uncooperative hair strands. She finally settled for combing through the blonde locks, probably intending to ask one of her friends to help her.

The light changed from my screen, blackening as orange and blue flares swirled across in the default screensaver. I returned my attention to the assignment, tapping the space bar to get back to my word document. I watched my essay load, involuntarily reading the digits on the clock icon. Time for her to go.

I began typing with renewed vigor, racing my fingers across the keyboard in a serious of clicks. I didn't have to turn around to know Karyn was checking her wristwatch realizing the time, and that she was now zipping up her bag and heading out, but I still found myself listening closely as she opened the door, my muscles bunching in anticipation. "You can still come you know."

I missed a key. Stopped. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, I'd suspected that she'd give it one last try. What I hadn't accounted for though, was how she genuinely sounded like she wanted me to come. It was hard to tell whether the new tone was a result of actual apology or was just another ruse for her to maintain cred.