I shook my head emphatically. ‘No way.’
Next to me, Tyler shoved a handful of fries into his mouth. ‘She was totally your doppelgänger,’ he said. ‘My dad says everybody has one somewhere.’
‘I guess.’ I set my peanut butter and jelly sandwich down, my appetite suddenly gone. I didn’t want to talk about this. Why wouldn’t they just shut up?
‘She had the same butt chin, too,’ Peter added. ‘She looked just like you.’
Tyler frowned at Peter. I ground my teeth together, waiting for Tyler to make some snappy clapback. Tyler always called my chin dimple a butt chin. Not in a mean way, just in a Tyler way. But I knew he wouldn’t like anybody else saying it.
But Tyler went back to his fries. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Madison laughed and bit into a carrot stick. ‘Having a chin dimple doesn’t mean you’re related to somebody, you idiot.’
‘She’s not my sister, all right?’ I snapped. ‘I’ve never even met her before.’
Everybody went quiet. My heart pulsed in my neck and I looked down. I felt them all exchanging looks. I was the peacemaker. I never lashed out or got involved in arguments.
I picked at the edge of my sandwich until it was as bare as a stone. I hated the dry feel of crust in my mouth. When I was a kid my mom would cut the crusts off my sandwich, snip away the square edges, and cut a little bite-size hole in the middle so it looked like an O. I suddenly wished she were here to reassure me.
Madison abruptly changed the subject. ‘Sooooo, my brother’s coming home next week.’
My head snapped up and blood rushed to my cheeks. I let my hair swing in front of my face to hide it, chewing hard on a strand of hair.
Tyler snorted and dropped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. ‘Can he score us some pot?’
‘Tyler!’ I shushed him.
‘Shut up, fuck-face.’ Madison’s dark eyes flashed. ‘It was only one time. He was just stupid enough to get caught.’
‘Wait. I thought he was in New York. Isn’t that where your parents sent him after he got caught dealing?’ Peter’s freckled face creased with confusion.
Madison scowled. ‘Once! And it was only pot.’
She was mortified that everybody knew Derek had been sent to a private East Coast school to ‘reform’ him. We all drank sometimes and a few of our friends smoked pot, but only stoners and losers actually dealt it.
Peter’s eyes darted between Madison and Tyler, sensing the tension.
‘Olivia,’ he said, changing the subject quickly. ‘You don’t have swimming practice tomorrow, right? Could you help me with some chemistry shit later? I’m on that homework grind, trying to catch up again.’
‘Sure.’ I darted a look at Tyler. His brows folded down. I could tell he wasn’t happy with me studying alone with Peter.
He could be a little possessive sometimes. It wasn’t like I’d ever cheated on him or anything. He was just like that: all macho on the outside but sort of insecure on the inside. I knew it was just because he loved me, though.
‘Thanks, dude.’ Peter grinned at me.
I scraped myself out of the hard metal chair. ‘I’m going outside for some fresh air. Wanna come, Mad?’
Madison unfolded her slender frame and stood, brushing off her black leggings and black sleeveless sweater. She tossed a hard glare at Tyler and Peter and huffed toward the door.
We stepped into the cool belly of April and headed for the quad, huddling on a bench near the fountain. We were the only students around, the air still too crisp to sit outside.
Clouds raced overhead as if they were on a conveyor belt; one minute it was sunny, the next threatening rain. Squinting at Madison, I tried to judge her mood.
I fiddled with the bracelet on my left wrist, pulling the cool metal through my fingers, back and forth.
‘Sorry about Derek,’ I offered.
‘’S okay. Sorry about that girl.’ She picked a hangnail. ‘I’m sure she isn’t, like, your sister or anything.’
I appreciated her saying it. No matter how moody Madison could be, I knew I could always count on her. It’s probably why we were still best friends all these years later.
We’d met in kindergarten and became friends when it turned out we both hated playing dress-up. I didn’t want anyone knowing my mom made me wear long underwear under my clothes all winter. Madison just wanted to play outside.
‘Do you think you’ll, you know, look her up?’ Madison asked.
I shrugged. I didn’t want to admit I’d talked to her in the bathroom at the University of Washington.
Up close she didn’t look quite as much like me as I’d thought. Even though her eyes were the exact same shade of green as mine, hers were slightly wider spaced. The dimple in her chin wasn’t as pronounced as mine, her cheekbones not as sharp, her nose a little smaller. Still, she made me uncomfortable.
She’d dried her hands, then leaned casually against the sink.
‘I’m Kendall Montgomery,’ she said. She flipped her long blonde hair over one shoulder in that way bitchy rich girls did.
‘I’m Olivia,’ I replied.
There was an awkward pause. ‘My dad’s dead,’ I blurted, afraid she was going to say something about how alike we looked. ‘Just in case you thought we might be related. And there’s no way we have the same mom.’
‘That’s too bad.’ She smirked. ‘My parents are assholes. It’d be awesome if I could replace them.’
I laughed, a rush of surprised air bursting out of me. At least I was always glad my mom was my mom. Her entire life was dedicated to me. Sometimes a bit too much.
‘Where do you live?’ she asked.
‘Portage Point. It’s this tiny town just south of –’
‘I know Portage Point. That’s where my mom’s from.’
There was a heavy silence as we both realized what she’d said.
‘Your mom?’ My palms suddenly felt hot and damp.
‘Well, not from. . .’ She hesitated. ‘That’s where she lived when she was in high school, I guess.’
I didn’t know what to say.
‘Anyway,’ Kendall said, heading for the door, ‘it was nice meeting you, Olivia.’
‘Yeah, you too. See you around.’
She’d waved, a little flick of her fingers, and left.
On the bench, I turned to Madison and shook my head. ‘Naww. I don’t think I’ll look her up. What would be the point? I already know she isn’t related to me.’
‘You don’t know know that,’ Madison countered.
I stared at her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, what if you have a long-lost dad out there and a whole other family? What if your mom had, like, some illicit affair or something?’
The idea was so ridiculous I laughed out loud. I couldn’t imagine my mom having some passionate affair. She was like a study in self control – she frowned but never yelled; she smiled but never laughed too loud; her makeup was always lightly done, her clothes neatly ironed.
Mom