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Not before lunch.
—
Even at lunch, I sit between Preston and Rebecca, and instead of taking the spot across from me, he sits farther down.
It isn’t until the end of lunch that he says something to me.
And what he says is, “I’m so tired.”
I know I’m not the one who’s going to wake him up.
—
I find myself wondering who A is today. Where A is.
And at the same time, I wonder if all the A’s I’ve met are in a room together, laughing at me. Not believing how a girl could be so stupid. Looking at the video of my face over and over again. Daring each other to push it further.
That’s not it, I tell myself.
But what else is possible?
—
I check my email after lunch and find word from him (her?).
Rhiannon,
You’d actually recognize me today. I woke up as James’s twin. I thought this might help me figure things out, but so far, no luck.
I want to see you again.
A
I don’t know what to say to this.
Trick or truth?
Yes, I want to see A again.
Yes, I’m afraid.
No, it doesn’t make sense.
But what does? I’m asking myself this all afternoon. Does it makes sense that Preston is seen as The Gay One when none of the rest of us are seen as The Straight One? Does it make sense that Stephanie’s father freaked out when she (briefly) dated Aaron because Aaron is black? Does it make sense that Justin and I can get as close as two people can be, and still can’t figure out anything to say to each other when we’re separate and walking the halls of school? Does it make sense that I am sitting here learning about the gestation cycle of a frog when there is no way that this knowledge is going to matter to me as soon as the next test is over? Does it make sense that Mr. Myers is spending his life teaching the gestation cycle of a frog to kids who mostly don’t care?
Does it make sense that some people get everything they want because they’re pretty? Would it make all of us nicer—or at least a little more humble—if we had to switch every day?
“What are you thinking about?”
Justin’s caught me at my locker, in a daze.
“It’s nothing,” I tell him. “Just daydreaming.”
He lets it go.
“Look,” he says. “What’re you doing now?”
It’s the end of the day. I have no idea what I’m doing. I could’ve driven back to the Starbucks and met the twin of the guy from yesterday. Although how would I have known it was really a twin? What if it was the same guy again? It’s not like I could really tell.
