Learn their names in case anyone talks to you, answer the questions, then leave the exhibition the second it’s over. Don’t go anywhere on campus!
I skim over the list of questions she’ll most likely be asked and the answers she’d give. It’ll be a breeze.
I’m in a great mood having all this free time to work on my designs. The two classes I’ll miss while being here both have reasonable professors, so it wasn’t a problem with them as long as I can get someone to give me the notes. As I find a comfortable spot by Lorelei’s only window, I open my sketchbook and dream about my future as a full-time designer with an airy, spacious studio, surrounded by rich, bright fabrics and the hum of sewing machines, with assistants running in every ten minutes with a request for an outfit by some new celebrity. I just have to get this internship.
I sketch for a while, still not completely happy with what I’ve drawn. I know I’ll get it and just need a break. Fresh air will be just what I need. I’m also starving, and Lorelei’s only got wilted celery in her refrigerator. I’m not supposed to leave the apartment, but she can’t mean for me to starve.
I ignore the fact I can have food delivered because I’m bored sitting around. I need inspiration even more than food, and her apartment isn’t giving it. I decide to go check out the rink as well, since I’ll need to seem familiar with it.
There are a set of crutches and a roll of compression bandages by the door with a sticky note telling me to use them. See, she knows I won’t be able to stay inside. We’re twins after all. Just like I know she’ll read the backs of all the books in my place, then roll her eyes at them. I’ve never used crutches before and wobble around her apartment like a newborn deer to get the hang of it before wrapping my left ankle in the bandages and heading out the door.
Once I’m there, I recognize a few of the women on her team from the website and wave at them. Trina and Danica. They furrow their brows at me and give me a halfhearted wave in return, then turn away. I get a sinking feeling as I head toward the women’s locker room, and another of her teammates barely gives me the time of day when I greet her.
She’s done it again. She’s alienated her new teammates. Lorelei is a brilliant person and a truly gifted athlete, but she can’t make friends for shit. It’s because she’s so introverted, and she never breaks out of her shell. The fact that she likes quiet activities doesn’t help on a party campus like this one. People wrongly assume she’s a huge bitch and full of herself when nothing could be further from the truth. She did all right with her team back home in Connecticut because she grew up with those girls and was comfortable enough around them. She didn’t feel a need to hide away from the girls back home, and they all knew how to pull her out of her shell.
Ugh, the fact that she’s been with this new team for over a year, and they all treat her like a pariah breaks my heart. Lorelei probably doesn’t even notice it, she’s so focused on excelling all the time at everything. Wanting to be the best doesn’t help her make friends either, but no one should ever have to dull their shine.
I know what I have to do. I have to make them see the real Lorelei. I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it, because I’m as different from my twin as night is to day, but I also know her better than any other human being on the planet. If I act like a toned-down version of myself and an amped up version of Lorelei, I can make them see she’s not a stuck-up diva, but the shy, sweet, loveable person she really is. When she returns, they’ll be nicer to her, and she’ll feel confident enough to show more of her personality.
“Hey, Andrea,” I say to the girl who already ignored my greeting. “I love your hair today, it’s so cute in those braids.”
Her eyebrows shoot up into her bangs. “Oh, thanks. Uh, how’s your ankle?”
I ease my weight over to my right side, almost forgetting I’m supposed to be injured. “It’s not great, but better.” God, I hope I don’t run into her coach. “There’s no way I could skate, and these crutches are such a pain.” I smile expectantly and keep looking at her, so she’ll have to keep talking. Creepy? Maybe. But I don’t have a ton of time.
“You almost nailed that triple,” she says finally. “You think you’ll try it again when you’re better?”
“A triple axel?” I ask incredulously, then clamp my mouth shut. Leave it to my overachiever sister. “Yeah, I mean, I’ll keep working toward it.”
She laughs. “Well, just be careful. We need you for nationals.” She stands up and heads toward the door, and I follow, determined to keep bonding. We end up standing by the two others, Danica and Trina, watching the hockey team skirmish.
“Are they really fighting?” I ask, my eyes drawn to the manly carnage out on the ice.
“Nah, just being idiots,” Andrea says.
I watch as one of the taller players gets his shirt pulled over his head, revealing a whole lot of muscle. He skates backwards and pulls it back down with a laugh, showing off a dazzling smile. “Damn, that one’s hot,” I say.
I tear my eyes away from the ice to see them staring at me. “I thought you couldn’t stand him,” Danica says. “And I’m with you now that I know what a fuckboy he is.”
Trina’s face goes bright red, and she frowns at Danica. “No, he’s not.”
“Just wait, Trina, and don’t say I didn’t warn you when he drops you like a hot rock.”
“Well, it’s always the good-looking ones that are the worst,” I say, trying to cover my gaffe.
“Tell us about it,” they all agree.
I’m glad my plan is working, but I’m still starving and want to get back to my sketches, despite the scorching hot show those sexy hockey players are putting on. The really handsome one shoots from one end of the ice to the other, lightning fast. He glides past us, unclipping his helmet and sweeping it off. His damp, wavy brown hair falls across his forehead, and he runs his fingers through it. I’d like to give that a try. Well, maybe I can stay a few more minutes.
“I guess I better get back and put my foot up,” I say when it’s clear the practice is over. The others regretfully get up as well. They all say goodbye to me in cheerful voices, and I slowly limp behind them, pleased my plan is going so well already.
As the rowdy hockey players are all leaving the ice, swinging their sticks around and laughing, one of them gets shoved by another, sending the one in front of him tumbling forward once their blades hit the solid floor. His arms flap as he heads straight down, and when I jump out of the way, one of the crutches catches on the bench, and I fall down with him.
“You fucking morons,” he yells behind him. They rumble apologies, but don’t help either one of us. “Sorry about that,” he says to me, rolling from his knees to his backside and looking over at me.
It’s the hot one that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of while he practiced. He’s even better looking up close, with those wavy strands falling across his chiseled cheekbones and full lips that are drawn into an angry frown. His deep brown eyes darken even more when he sees who I am. Yikes, I’m supposed to be Lorelei, and she’s supposed to hate him for some reason.
I force myself to act like I haven’t been drooling over him for the last half an hour and jump up. He scowls at my ankle and I groan, leaning on my right foot. He swears.