Kill Marguerite and Other Stories (9 page)

TWINS

ELIZABETH'S LAMENT

Told partly through the lyrics of Tegan and Sara

Jessica,

I ask myself all the time how two people who look so precisely the same can be so utterly different and I'm sure that you do too. For instance how we're mirror images with the same shoulder-length, sunstreaked blonde hair, sparkling aquamarine eyes, and perfect golden skin. And then how beneath our skin there is a world of difference. For instance how I'm selfless and caring while you are selfish and cruel. For instance how you live as if you're one while I live as if I'm two, an us, a we. Well today my therapist gave me this book called
The Emotionally Abusive Relationship
and sis, it's us to a tee. According to the book you withhold love and belittle my feelings so I no longer know who I am. Read the pages, Jessica. It's you. The abuser. You.

How can you live so happily while I am sad and broken down? In order for our relationship to work we have to respect one another's strengths and roles in the relationship. Respecting my strengths and roles in the relationship is something you do not do. All you do is what you want to do even when it negatively impacts me which is fucked. Remember that time you sabotaged my carefully planned campaign rally because you don't care
that I have feelings? That time you tricked my hunky date into thinking you were me while I waited for hours thinking I got stood up? That time you wanted to date Todd just because I did? All the times you get me to do your dishes or homework just so you'll say you love me the most and we'll get sundaes tomorrow but then when I show up and you've already ordered with Lila. And you're so sorry, it'll never happen again, but it happens the next time too. And when I ask you to stop wearing my new barrette without asking, you say sure but then you keep wearing my new barrette without asking.

The book says you do these things because creating chaos in the relationship gives you a sense of freedom from the stifling confinement of intimacy. I understand. But Jess, when you act like this, when you get so into yourself, I lose sight of common goals and who I am within them. I spend all night losing sleep, sick inside wondering where you're leaving your makeup and then I wake up and see you and it's like I've never had feelings before in my life. Jessica, there's a war inside of me. I hate your guts sometimes but sometimes you're so fun and I don't know how to act because I hate your guts Jessica but sometimes you're so nice to me and I don't know how to act because I hate your guts Jessica but sometimes you really love me and I don't know how to act because I hate your guts I hate them I hate them your guts I hate them Jessica—

The book says for our relationship to work, we have to communicate. What I'm communicating now is this isn't working. You have to change. From now on, you're gonna do your homework yourself and quit being so fun all the time. You're gonna be responsible and I get to be the fun one. I'm gonna forget Dad's birthday and you get
to say your present's from both of us. You did get Dad a present, didn't you?

What a surprise. See how you're nothing without me.

I know you're sorry. You're always sorry. “I'm Jessica, and I'm the sorriest twin in the world.” I don't want your empty apologies. What I want Jessica is—are you listening?—because listening's not your strong suit so listen. What I want Jessica is your private time. I want you close. I want you to stay home and keep our memories warm with me. I want to spend the evening watching you get yourself clean. I want to shave my head and lie in bed with you all day long. I want you to tell me you love me more each time you look into my eyes. I want you to look me in the heart and promise no love's like our love. Tell me I'm what your hands were made for, I'm what your mouth was made for. Don't you want that too?

You know what, nevermind. I know my screaming and shouting won't keep you. No hissyfits, mind my manners. I won't make your love so scared to come through our yard. Because when it comes down to it, Jess, when we work, we really work. Jess, I really love us. How we look so alike, and yet are different. Like when I'm staring into my own eyes in the mirror and thinking they're yours and you're being so sensitive for once, you're really seeing me, but then I blink and it's just me. Or I'm looking at you and I try to smoothe your eyebrows by smoothing mine, like you're the mirror, you're me, because you are except you're not. And sometimes when I creep into your room and rub my face in your sweaters which are scratchy but soft like you, I know we have more than just twin sense, that special feeling and who am I kidding, I hate myself I'm boring I read too much I wish I were you. But I'm not
you. I'm only ever the opposite of you. Even dressing bad is like loving you. There's nothing love can't do.

What was that? I have been imprisoned all my life by an evil double of myself and all you can say is you are who you are? You are who you fucking are. Well. You must not understand relationships because in relationships who you are depends on
the other person
. For instance see what happens when I rip off your purple miniskirt and wear it myself. Do you see how fun I am when you're not around? How I'm carefree and spontaneous. How I wear tighter clothes, I don't have to individuate. What. I'm communicating. What. I'm sick of being Elizabeth all the time, the Elizabeth to your Jessica when I'm the older twin, you duplicate me.

So do it—duplicate me. Now. Move your leg when I move mine. Cross your legs when I cross mine. Stop. You're not doing it right. You're not—you never. Jessica. I'm warning you. Jessica. Jessica. Jessica. Jessica. Jessica. Do I have to kill you. Jessica. Good. We are breaking down the wall between our bedrooms, Jessica. We are breaking down the wall between our bodies. Like O like H in your gut. Our gut. Ours. Are you all right. We can stand up straight. Because no matter what happens between us, I collapse. No matter what happens, you can't escape me, can't untangle. Because I felt you in my life before I ever—collapse.

SWEET VALLEY TWINS #119: ABDUCTED!

Some language has been appropriated from
Sweet Valley Twins
, numbers 5, 9, 12, 14, and 34, created by Francine Pascal;
Choose Your Own Adventure #3: Space and Beyond
by R.A. Montgomery;
My Teacher Is an Alien
by Bruce Coville; and
The Baby-Sitters Club #35
by Ann M. Martin.

“Lizzie!” You look up to see your twin sister standing on the back porch. “There you are!” she exclaims, spotting you on the lowest branch of the huge pine tree in your backyard. This is your ‘thinking seat,' the spot you come to whenever you need to be by yourself and do some serious thinking.

“Time for dinner,” she informs you, tossing back her long blond hair. She grins sheepishly. “Will you help me with math after?”

You smile. Looking at Jessica is just like looking into a mirror. You have the same long, blond hair, the same blue-green eyes, even the same dimple in the left cheek. But though you look identical, the two of you are very different.

Lots of people think of you as the serious one. That isn't exactly true—you like having fun with your friends. But you also like having time alone, by yourself, to read, or write, or just think. You hope to become a professional writer some day.

Jessica, on the other hand, never likes being alone. She wants lots of friends around her all the time, and she isn't very interested in anything serious, especially school. Mainly she likes having fun—though her idea of fun sometimes gets her into trouble. And she always counts on you to get her out of it.

The two of you have different friends, different interests, and different personalities. But you are still the best of friends.

“Sure, Jess,” you agree. “I'd be happy to.”

“Lizzie, you're the best,” Jessica beams. “Your turn to set the table!” She vanishes inside.

You get up and follow her, grateful for the distraction. You've been sitting in your ‘thinking seat' for quite a while, replaying in your mind the strange encounter you had with your favorite teacher, Mr. Bowman, after school. You can't seem to wrap your head around it. Mr. Bowman supervises
The Sweet Valley Sixers
, the weekly newspaper you founded for the sixth grade. He's a really good teacher, but he dresses terribly. When you stepped into his classroom after school to finish up an article, he was wearing a horrible striped jacket—and speaking in clicks and static into a futuristic handheld device!

Heart thudding, you hid behind the door. Mr. Bowman had been acting odd the last few days, rarely smiling and easily losing his patience. You figured it was stress—student council elections had created a ton of extra work for
The Sixers
. But now it seemed clear that something else was going on. When you finally got up the nerve to sneak a look around the door, you saw Mr. Bowman reach up to his head, grab his ears, and peel off his face!

As he stripped away the mask, you could see he had skin the color of limes. His enormous orange eyes slanted
up and away from his nose. A series of muscular-looking ridges stretched from his eyes down to his lipless mouth.

You are Elizabeth Wakefield. And your English teacher is an alien.

Go on to the next page
.

After dinner, you head upstairs and start in on your homework unfocused, your thoughts on ‘Mr. Bowman's' gruesome face. Within minutes Jessica explodes like a blond bomb in the middle of your history book. “I think I need help from someone who got a four-minute head start in the world!” she sings. The two of you always joke about the fact that you're four minutes older than Jessica. Sometimes you really
feel
like a big sister to your headstrong twin.

“Jess, come on,” you sigh. “I'm busy.”

“You said you'd help me with math,” she reminds you, her blue-green eyes pleading. “We have a test tomorrow and I still don't get long division.”

“What do you expect?” You shut your textbook angrily. “You've been copying my homework this entire unit!”

“Lizzie, don't yell.” She gives you her most helpless look. “You know I was stressed out when Ms. Wyler explained it. If you'd help me out this one time, I'd never forget it for a trillion years.”

“Obsessing about Johnny Buck isn't stress!” you say, referring to your sister's rock star idol. But you can never stay annoyed at your sister for long. “I'm sorry, Jess. It's just—I think Mr. Bowman is an alien.”

Her eyes widen. “No way.” She sits down on your cream-colored bedspread and listens while you tell her everything: the noises, the device, the mask.

“How awful!” Jessica cries. “What do you think happened to the real Mr. Bowman? What if he's been taken hostage?”

“Poor Mr. Bowman!” you gasp. “What should we do?”

Jessica jumps to her feet. “I have an idea!” Her blue-green eyes light up with inspiration. “If the device is the
alien's only connection to his home planet, he'll be stuck here without it. So we'll steal it. Then we can use it as leverage to save Mr. Bowman.”

“Good thinking, Jess!” It's moments like these when you admire your twin's scheming mind. “But that sounds dangerous.”

“It'll be a piece of cake. Just get someone to distract him during class tomorrow and swipe it when he's not looking.”

“I don't know, Jess,” you say. “You know how I feel about stealing.”

Jessica paces across the room, her sunstreaked blond ponytail bouncing up and down with each step. Suddenly she stops and twirls to face you. “I know!” she exclaims, her aquamarine eyes sparkling with excitement. “Why don't I do it? We can switch identities during first period.”

You chew your bottom lip. While Jessica always enjoys secrets and pranks, you dislike doing anything deceptive. “Why can't you just wait until you have English?”

“I'm too suspicious! There's no way Jessica Wakefield can get away with nosing around Mr. Bowman's stuff. But
Elizabeth
Wakefield can get away with anything!” You nod, seeing her logic. “Besides, if we switch during first period, then you can take my test!”

You cross your arms. “No way, Jess,” you say firmly. “That's cheating.”

“But it would be so simple, Lizzie. And no one will know the difference.”

If you agree to switch identities with Jessica tomorrow, turn to
page 98
.

If you refuse to switch identities with Jessica tomorrow, turn to
page 114
.

As usual, you find your twin impossible to resist. “I have a feeling I'm making the biggest mistake of my life,” you say, relenting. “But okay.”

Jessica flashes you a bright smile and hugs you as hard as she can.

The next morning, you dress in the outfit Jessica put together for you: an uncomfortably short electric blue minidress with purple opaque tights. Jessica always makes a point of wearing at least one purple article of clothing. She does this because she's a member of the Unicorn Club, and every girl in the club does the same. The Unicorns are very exclusive, and consider themselves to be as beautiful and special as the mythical animal of the same name.

Soon, with Jessica dressed in the striped sweater and blue jeans you've picked out for her, the two of you are strolling down the tree-lined streets of Sweet Valley, California, a town which both of you think is the most perfect place on earth. As always, the sun is shining in a blue sky that's dotted with only the tiniest puffs of clouds. With weather like this, it's even harder to believe that your school has been infiltrated by an alien.