“You’re doing it again.”
I huffed, bringing a hand indignantly through my hair. In a span of ten minutes I’d heard that line over twenty times—no exaggerations. I couldn’t seem to do anything right. I tilted my head to the side as I played with my hair. It wasn’t in the usual style that I preferred—down, maybe a braid. No, it was put back into a simple ponytail, my brunette hair tied back from my face except for two strips of hair curling down the sides of my head. I felt different with my hair like this, like I was someone else. But that made sense. Because, you know, I was supposed to be someone else.
I was supposed to be Arabelle.
“You know,” I drawled, spinning around and flicking my wrist defiantly in her direction, “if you didn’t tick people off so much we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Arabelle smiled brightly and placed her hands on her hips. She looked so triumphant as she stood beside me, like she could conquer the world. Well, that made one of us. “There, that sounded more like me,” she said with a nod. “Now keep that up for the next hour and we can be done.”
I scowled. Why did I agree to this ridiculous plan? Why did I have to let Arabelle manipulate me like this? Sure, we were twins and all, but that didn’t mean I had to help her with everything—especially when it was her fault she was in this mess in the first place.
But, sadly, our super-weird-twin-sister-bond said otherwise.
“Why can’t you just dump Danny and we can both be happy for the rest of our lives?” I suggested, trying to pull an Arabelle by jutting my hip out. I pursed my lips just for show. All this felt so foreign. I wanted to laugh so damn hard. How could Arabelle act like this all the time and not laugh at herself?
“Because,” Arabelle muttered, bringing a hand through her hair, “I like Danny. So I wouldn’t be happy if I dumped him.”
I rolled my eyes. Arabelle may have looked like me with her big brown eyes and her wavy locks of light brown hair and tan skin, but she was almost the complete opposite of me. I, for one, didn’t find pleasure in ticking of the entire world’s population, nor did I make our dad so mad that he banished me to a fugitive camp for the summer. And I definitely didn’t date guys who were obviously trash but got blind-sided for whatever stupid reason. Arabelle, on the other hand, did.
“What do you see in him anyway?” I demanded. “He treats you like crap, and he bent a page of my book!”
Arabelle cocked an eyebrow. “What book?”
“Nevermore,” I replied, my anger seeping into my voice. “Which happens to be my favorite book, by the way.”
Arabelle smiled, standing up from my bed and patting my shoulder. “You’re getting better!” she sang, stretching her arms out.
I threw my arms in the air. “I can’t do this, Belle!” I shrieked in dismay. I fell back on my bed, closing my eyes. “I can’t act like you without wanting to laugh every two seconds. This isn’t me.”
Arabelle fell back on the bed too, squishing herself against me. I couldn’t help but smile at her. She was so mean, so vile to almost everyone else. But she was nice to me. Maybe that was why I couldn’t bring myself to have an attitude or to snap and be snarky all the time. Because I saw her as a nice person.
“You’ll get used to it,” she teased, punching my arm lightly. “I’m a very fun person to be.”
“Ah,” I said, my eyebrows rising. “Sure you are.”
Arabelle gasped in mock horror, pushing me playfully. “You jerk!” She grinned as I pushed her back. “Keep it up.”
I sighed. “So how will we know I’m ready or not?”
Arabelle smiled mischievously, and I instantly regretted asking. I was not going to like this. “You’re going to get in a fight with Dad!” she exclaimed giddily. “We’ll do it a few days before you go, so you can pull the silent treatment. You know I’m famous for those.”
And she was. Every time she and my dad got in a fight, she would ignore him for days—maybe even weeks depending on what the argument was over. It’d been two weeks since my dad sentenced Arabelle to delinquent camp, and she just started talking to him again yesterday. And she didn’t even say much. She said, “Pass the salt.”
My dad passed her the pepper, too. I wondered if they were on silent terms again.
“You’re not going to give him the silent treatment for passing the pepper, are you?” I inquired, sitting up and dropping my arms carelessly on my lap.
“Of course not.” Arabelle sat up, grinning. “I got pay back.”
I frowned. “What did you do—?”
“Arabelle Winters!”
Arabelle laughed mercilessly until she seemed to realize something. “Shit,” she whispered. “Put your hair back down!” she hissed. “Dad can’t suspect anything.”
My eyes widened and I hurried to pull the elastic band out of my hair. I threw it to the floor, fluffing out my hair. “What did you do?” I demanded as Arabelle rushed to my bedroom door. She opened it, sticking her head out. I sighed deeply. I did not want to be caught in a fight between these two.
“I may or may not have shaved his head last night while he was sleeping.”
My mouth dropped. “Seriously?”
Arabelle grinned. “Wait and you’ll see.”
I jumped off my bed, scurrying to the door and poking my head out. My dad was storming down the hall, looking more pissed than I’d ever seen him. But, sadly, I couldn’t take him seriously.
He was bald.
I sputtered out a laugh before I could stop it. I stepped out of my room, holding my door open so my dad could get in. I so desperately wanted to make a joke about him being bald, but I held it in. I didn’t need him mad at me.
“Arabelle!” my dad hissed, stepping into my room. I leaned back against the wall, biting my lip to contain my laughter. Arabelle was probably doing the same.
“Aw, nice hairdo, Dad!” Arabelle cooed. “It looks great on you.”
I covered my mouth with my hand. Arabelle just cracked me up sometimes.
“This isn’t funny, Arabelle!”
“But, Dad, it really is!”
I pushed off the wall and headed down the hall. Arabelle would probably want to tell the story of the fight later, and I didn’t want to stand there and listen to it. I trotted down the stairs, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket and glancing at the screen. I was surprised to see that I had two new text messages. Huh. I didn’t recall putting it on silent.
I opened up the text message. It was from my friend, Caroline Baker, saying that she was coming over. I cocked an eyebrow, opening up the next one. I giggled when I saw it said: Come answer the door! I’ve been knocking for like five days!
I grinned, skipping to the front door and pulling it open. Caroline stood there, her hands on her hips. I looked her up and down, noting her hair was pulled into pigtails today. She hadn’t put on any makeup today, which was odd. She liked looking beautiful no matter where she was or who she was with. But today, with her lack of makeup and her tank top and shorts, it seemed that she didn’t care. Not that she wasn’t pretty. She was.
“Hello,” I greeted cheerfully.
Caroline cocked an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be rude? You know, acting like Arabelle?”
I’d told Beth and Caroline almost right away about the plan. At first they hadn’t been supportive of the idea at all—at all. In fact, they sat me down in a chair and gave me multiple lectures about how stupid I was for letting my sister manipulate me the way she did. But I held my ground. I’d already promised that I would do it. And I wasn’t the type of person who broke a promise. No matter how stupid those promises were.
I snorted, rolling my eyes. Caroline grinned, knowing that I was pretending to be my sister now. “What do you want?” I demanded, jutting my hip out.
“There you go,” Caroline teased. “You’re getting better. Last time I spontaneously came over, you laughed when I told you to act like her.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, stepping to the side and letting her in. “I can’t outright act like her today. Dad’s upstairs.”
Caroline nodded, trotting over to the kitchen table and plopping into one of the chairs. I slid into the one beside her, glancing toward the stairs. I could distantly hear my dad and Arabelle arguing.
Apparently Caroline could hear the shouts, too. “They fighting again?” she murmured. “What did she do this time?”
“Shaved him bald,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant but failing. I ended up screwing up at the end, letting my giggles seep through. Usually I dealt with what Arabelle did with forced patience. But this . . . this was just hilarious.
Caroline burst into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand. I laughed along with her, not able to hold it in any longer. “Oh jeez! What ticked her off so much that she shaved all his hair off?”
“He gave her pepper instead of salt.”
All at once we were laughing again. It sounded so stupid, shaving someone bald for giving you pepper instead of salt. But, hey. That was Arabelle for you. But I had a feeling that she was also reacting from him sending her to camp for the summer. Not that she was really going, anyway. That didn’t stop her from getting pissed, though.
“So, Falice,” Caroline drawled, winking, “do you think you’ll be able to pull off stunts like this when you go to camp?”
I scoffed. “Probably not.” I sighed deeply. “That’s what makes me nervous. If I can’t even get her attitude right, how can I pretend to be her?”
Caroline smiled, patting my shoulder comfortingly. “You’re determined enough to be able to pull it off.” She stuck her tongue out playfully. “Though, if I may say so, you’re really stupid to do this. I mean, your sister needs to learn manners sometime, doesn’t she?”
I shrugged. “She knows manners. She just doesn’t use them.”
Caroline sighed, playing with her hair. “Beth and I are going to miss you this summer.” She pouted. “We were supposed to have that going-back-to-school party!”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Sorry. But maybe this will be a good thing. You and Beth are always talking about how I need to get a backbone.”
“Yeah! By good influences. Not by delinquents who take their backbone way too far.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m not going to turn into a little delinquent, I promise.”
Caroline was about to answer, but at that moment, Arabelle came bounding down the stairs. I turned, grinning at her. She grinned back, flopping into the chair beside me. It was silent for a moment as she brought a hand through her hair. She smiled at us innocently. Which means she’d done something not-so-innocent, or was going to do something not-so-innocent.
“What?” I asked suspiciously, eyeing her warily.
Arabelle leaned back, smiling. “Dad’s in his bedroom calling random companies to try and get hair-re-growth products.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Really?”
Arabelle nodded. “Yep. He even called Pizza Hut. They thought he was prank calling, so they hung up on him.”
Caroline and I laughed. Arabelle winked at me before leaning forward again. “Now, back to business,” she said, her voice growing serious. “How about we start our next lesson early?”
Caroline and I side-glanced at each other. Oh shit.