Page 42 of My Twin Sister

“Oh. So you guys didn’t stay close.”

“We were never really that close,” he says.

I narrow my eyes at him.

“We weren’t.” He laughs. “We fooled around a bit, but we weren’t close. Couldn’t tell you her middle name.”

“Ann.”

“I guess I could have guessed Ann or Marie and had a pretty good chance.”

“But that doesn’t mean you weren’t close. That just means you were a bad boyfriend.”

“Hey now,” he says. “I was never her boyfriend. I’m a good boyfriend. She couldn’t tell you my middle name either.”

I think for a second. “Archibald.”

He snorts. “Murphy Archibald Hanlon. You got it.”

There’s a knock on the door and I almost feel disappointed. The door opens, the person on the other end comfortable enough to let themselves in. I watch the hall, and Wyatt appears, Geny behind him.

He and Murphy do the whole man handclap, half hug thing, and then Murphy hugs Geny.

“Tara should be here any minute,” Murphy says. “Oh, there she is now.” He shuffles around Wyatt and Geny to the door.

The three of us stand awkwardly in the living room until Wyatt excuses himself into the kitchen to put the beer he brought in the fridge. I didn’t think to bring anything. Geny looks like she might bolt for the door any second. I take a step closer to her and reach out to touch her arm.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Mm? Yeah. I’m fine.”

She’s not. But I don’t push. Did we always lie to each other this much? Are we just better now at catching it? I sure had my share of secrets. But back then, I was too caught up in my own crap to notice or care what was going on with Geny all the time. I don’t think I was always such a rotten sister. But I was toward the end.

I hear Tara before I see her. She’s laughing and her face as a teenager instantly fills my mind. She was angsty and angry, but she laughed with her whole body as though she were really soaking in the experience of happiness. Tara and I went through so many phases of friendship while growing up. Best friends until one of us found someone else that seemed like a better fit. Then we’d get distant. Never not friends. But not always as close.

She appears in the hallway, and my brain plays catch-up with the adult version of her. She has long hair and less black clothing now.

“Hi!” Tara says and grabs me into a hug.

I squeeze her, and when she takes a step back, she smiles and lifts her hand to say hello to Geny. It’s awkward. She and Geny weren’t close when we were young, but she’s been around longer than I have. It makes me a little sad that Geny didn’t lean on our friends when she lost me. That she probably didn’t feel like she could.

Wyatt comes back into the room at the same time Murphy does.

“I got a big bonfire prepared out back if you guys are down. Otherwise, we can hang out inside.”

“Bonfire,” Wyatt and I say at the same time as Geny mumbles, “It’s kind of cold . . .”

“But the bonfire sounds nice,” Geny says quickly in a mousy voice.

Murphy doesn’t miss a beat. “Tara? Tie breaker?”

“Bonfire for sure,” she says.

“All right.” Murphy claps his hands and gestures toward the back of his house. “Wyatt, lead the way.”

I glance at Murphy as we walk to the back door. It was kind of him to side with my sister, though he clearly wanted the fire, seeing as he set it all up. The old Murphy wouldn’t have done that. Not because he wasn’t kind, but because he’d probably have been too high to clock the situation.

Everyone I know has either grown up into someone different or died, and it makes me feel out of place. I feel the urge to put on that familiar mask to ward off that uncomfortable feeling. As a teen, I was always performing. Always the center of attention and the life of the party. I didn’t know how to sit back and be myself. Not like Geny did.