The Other Side
My sanctuary isn’t a regular thirteen- year-old-place. I don’t squeal when I see a sale at Aeropostale, or faint when a guy glances my way. Everything pink is over rated, and skirts smaller than some underwear disgust me. In other words I don’t follow the prep crowd or stand out, well in rather.
If you’re thinking “What’s wrong with this person?”, slowly put this down and walk away like nothing ever happened. This story is about the geeks, nerds, and dorks of teenage life. This is the other side.
Twins. Yes twins. Scarpa and Scarlet. That’s us! The last person to ever recognize us as twins was our third grade teacher. That was before Scarlet found bottle-blondes. Now the only thing the same about us is our eyes: light green. I have brown mousy hair that could beat curly fries in a contest. My build is not-skinny, not-fat athlete. My sister, on the other hand, could put a popsicle stick to shame.
“Scaar-pa” I hear Scarlet screech my name.
“What do ya’ want Scarlet?”
Scarlet glides into my room, snapping her gum loudly.
“ Can I pretty please borrow your science notes?” She made a puppy face, whining slightly.
“I guess you can borrow them… Just don’t get gum on it again” I say as I hand over a well thumbed packet of paper labeled: Science Important!
“ I promise I won’t!” Scarlet says, skipping out my door.
“Ya right” I mumble.
My lovely sister had depended on me since we were nine. That’s also the age when she ‘met’ her first boy, Dan. He was (and sadly still is) our neighbor. It was our birthday and it being July, it was hot! Mom had deemed it a nine-year-old-weenie/pool-roast. At the time I thought it was hilarious but, now just plain embarrassing.
Scarlet, sun-tanned and wearing a pink-polka-dot bikini, was with Dan the whole time. He was always trying to mess with her bottom part of the bathing suit. He kinda looked like the Coppertone dog, and Scarlet was the cute-blondie. She laughed every time he pulled on the bottoms.
“Oh stop it, Dan” she would squeal. Then she would turn around and smile that smile. Even though it was our birthday, Scarlet got all the attention. I was just some girl that looked like her. The only person that talked to me was Frankie.
Frankie was the tallest nine-year-old on our street. He had always been my best friend. He was like the lovely sibling that I could trust. We did everything together. We had built so many forts in the woods behind his house that we had a city. There was a post office, a school, a town hall and even a jail. Frankie had made me the Queen Mayor, and he was the King Mayor. As stupid as that sounds it was fun. But it ended every day at five o’clock, when you could hear Frankie’s mom yell the time. I would sprint race Frankie to his house, then keep going down the road to my own house.
Those were the good days, when it didn’t matter what kind of jeans you had on, or if you wore make-up.
I sighed heavily as my mom walked by my door. She had paint all over her forehead.
“Why the sloth sigh?” she chirped.
“Oh, I’m just reminiscing, and Scarlet borrowed my notes again.”. Mom stared at me with a crazy expression.
“Again?! Don’t you remember what happened last time?” I sighed again.
“Yes, mom I do. It’s just I can’t no and I really don’t think she can cram three weeks of notes into” I checked my watch “ thirty minutes of studying”
She stared at me with sad eyes, shaking her paint-splattered head.
“I guess your right…” she continued walking by, when the phone rang. Scarlet said that she got it. Ten seconds later she announced that it was Frankie. I jumped off my bed and sped down the hallway, glancing into Scarlet’s room. My science notes were scattered all over her purple room. Ugh. Well at least there’s no gum on it yet, I thought as I dashed down the stairs.
Scarlet had her cell phone in her hands texting her latest victim, no doubt.
“Phone’s on the blue table” she muttered.
“Thanks” I swung around to the little nook under the stairs where the phone and blue table were.
“Helloo Frankster” I said into the phone
“Helloo Scharries” he said back.
“ Que es el occasion for you to call, it better not be science notes ‘cause Scary Blonde put a tornado through them”
“Sorry, I don’t need tornado notes. I wanted to know if you could hang out?”
“Hmm…” I glanced at the clock: 3:25. “Possibly, but I have soccer practice at five, so I can’t stay long.”
I could hear him sighing.
“Soccer is your obsession” He groaned
“Yes it is” I said matter-of-factly.
“Well I guess it’s better than cheerleading”
“Ya” I said laughing “ I’ll be over in a minute. Count me”
I hung up the phone flipped on my flops and sprinted out the door. I jumped the three steps to my house and turned down Windsor Street. Frankie’s house was only about ten houses down, so I could make it out there in less than a minute.
I could see Frankie in his yard counting.
“ 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, Run faster Thunder or you won’t make it, 55,56” He yelled.
Just as he said 59 I tackle-hugged him onto his front lawn.
“Just barley” he said, smiling.
“But, I still got here in a minute”
I looked up and noticed a guy sitting on Frankie’s porch. He looked about my age, maybe older. He smiled at me and I swear the sun was in his mouth
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