Opposite But Identical

Chapter 12: Switching for Spanish

Holy shit, I've been busy. Sorry it took me a week to update, but thanks for all the support!! Make sure to comment and vote.
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"DAMN IT!" Mike yelled, snapping his Spanish notebook shut.

"What's wrong?" Richie asked, barely looking up from his magazine.

"Spanish class. I don't get how to do any of this. It just doesn't make sense." Spanish had always been Mike's downfall. He was good at every other subject, but Spanish just didn't click for him. Richie was the same way, but his sore spot was math. He hated it with a passion.

Richie walked over to his twin. "Here, let me help you. I'm, like, basically fluent."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Oh, great."

They studied for twenty minutes, each second becoming more frustrating for the both of them. "No, no, no, this is feminine, so it would be las casas, not los casas. It's not that hard," Richie explained.

Mike stood up. "That's it! I'm done. God, I wish you could just take the test for me."

"Yeah, me, too," Richie said, rolling his eyes. Then the idea popped into their heads at the same time.

"Wait," Mike said, "You can take it for me! I have Spanish after Mr. Mill's class, right? So after his class, we can just swap clothes! Then we can meet up after to change back again!"

"That's not half bad," Richie said, adjusting his large glasses on his face, "Yeah, let's do it. But you owe me big time."

"Fine, I'll take your next math test for you."

Richie smirked, clearly satisfied. "Oh, twinsie, you know me too well."

____________________

The following day was Mike's Spanish test. Both of the boys were a bundle of nerves. If they got caught switching for a test, they'd be in huge trouble.

After Mr. Mills class, they ran into the boys bathroom in the music wing and quickly changed clothes. Mike put on Richie's glasses and said, "Shit, I knew your vision was bad, but seriously?"

"I told you to bring my fake ones, but you forgot!"

"Okay, okay, point taken." They used a comb to mess up Mike's hair a little bit to make it more Richie-like, and flatten Richie's so it resembled Mike's more.

"Okay, ready?" Mike asked.

"Ready," Richie shot his twin a thumbs up, and they looked in the mirror.

"Man, this is trippy," Richie said, touching his hair, "Can you see anything?"

"Barely," Mike responded miserably.

They both agreed not to tell anyone at risk of getting in trouble, but who Richie was really worried about was Eddie. He was extremely observant and never missed anything.

Richie ran to the Spanish room, barely making it on time. He had brought his contact lenses so he could actually see where he was going, but he absolutely hated them. They made his eyes itch.

He sat down in a desk next to Max Mayfield and said, "Hey, Max."

"Uh, hi?" Max gave him a weird look. Oh, right. Mike didn't like Max too much. He was always going on about how she was a bad influence on El and blah blah blah.

He figured he had to say something mean. "I hope you fail," he said to the red headed girl.

She shot him a middle finger and started scribbling on her textbook.