“We like you, Jenny. Both of us. We don’t want to fight for you or fuck up our friendship. Zach’s a stubborn bastard after all.”
“Marcy thinks it’s weird”, I say. “You know, me going with both of you.”
“Everyone thought it was weird when we insisted on being the donkey. It’s only an issue if you let it be”, Jack says.
“It’s not weird for you?” I ask.
Jack and Zach look at each other and smile. “We share everything, Jenny. You know that about us. Why should this be any different?”
I take my seat again, wedged between Donkey on the bed, my heart pounding. Is this really happening? I think. Is it this easy to get what you want?
“So, who do I kiss first?” I say, barely able to believe I’ve let the words slip out, and feeling myself go red because of it. Kiss is the word on my lips, but there are plenty of other ones that follow that I don’t dare say but have dreamed of doing. I may look it at school, but I’m eighteen years old and not as innocent as everyone might believe. The only people who probably know just how naughty a mind I have are the two people sat right next to me.
I giggle and can feel my belly squirm and that area between my legs get hot. If it’s on a plate, why not take it? If these two amazing men do go away after the summer, I’m going to regret not taking what was always being offered.
Jack and Zach look at each other again.
“The first kiss should be at the prom”, Jack says, in a mock serious tone.
“Agreed”, Zach says. “That’ll give us time to decide who gets to go first.”
“I am the first born”, Jack says.
“But not the most attractive”, Zach counters.
“Guys?” I butt in. “That all sounds very chivalrous, but I hate to point out that it’s not the man that gets to choose.”
“Oh”, the twins say in chorus.
I shake my head.
“Then I guess there is nothing we can do”, Jack says.
“May the best man win”, Zach adds.
“This isn’t a competition, you know?” I point out.
“I wouldn’t mind if it was”, Jack says.
“As long as we both get to win”, Zach adds.
“You have already, just don’t fuck it up”, I say, and kiss them both on the cheek, Zach first.
I’ve waited what feels like a lifetime already, a few more days won’t matter too much. It’s nice to have a bit of control too, anticipation makes the whole thing ten times as good when it actually comes off.
“Don’t forget to tell your parents”, Jack says on his way out of the window, “I don’t want a shock when we turn up on Friday night for you.”
“Are you going to use the front door then?” I ask, only half joking.
“Come on, Jen”, Jack says, “We’re not entirely uncivilized.”
When I’m alone again, I can just about catch my breath. Jack and Zach Montgomery, the most eligible twins in the whole county, both taking me to the prom. I still can’t believe my luck, and I’m waiting for the catch.
Chapter Four
I’m an only child in a relatively stable family. I say relatively stable because even though my parents argue from time to time, compared to how the house shakes from the muffled shouts that come from Brian and Janice next door, we are as solid as a rock.
We are suburban, middle class in attitudes and outlook and working class from an economic perspective. We aren’t destitute, but my parents have never worked in jobs that have paid well enough for us to escape from that category. It’s enough to be able to afford my college tuition, but not enough to send me out of state. It’s fine with me. My parents have worked hard and they don’t owe me anything, and I’d prefer to be close to home anyway to save money where I can.
I’m going to study anthropology and archaeology, because secretly I see myself as a badass female Indiana Jones, and I’ve always been fascinated by people, mostly of the already dead variety.
It’s probably why I’m still a virgin, and it’s definitely why I’m considered a nerd, which is why my prom victory is all that more unbelievable. I can’t wait to see Alexis’s face when I walk into the hall, one Montgomery on each arm, the queen of the fucking school.
Dad was pissed when I told him, as though I was doing something immoral. Mom thought it was very progressive, and I think secretly jealous I’d somehow managed it.
“Donkey? Both of them? Is that even allowed?” were Dad’s comments. “Why don’t you just choose one of them and be done with it?”
I wish I could somehow explain to him that it’s not as easy as that. I’m not sure it’s just Dad, either. I’m not sure how many people would understand that it’s not as simple as just choosing either Jack or Zach, or the head or the tail of Donkey. The strength of the feeling I have for the pair of them is almost overwhelming. It wouldn’t work if it was just me and Zach, or just me and Jack. It’s like they are two halves of a whole, split between two people. With just one it doesn’t work. If the world has a problem with that then fuck it. This is 2016 and we’re not living in the dark ages anymore. In fact, there are plenty of civilizations in which dating more than one person at once wasn’t just normal, it was actively encouraged.
I’m not worried what people think. I used to be, but Jack and Zach taught me very quickly that the only thing that matters is what I think.
“They’re late”, Dad says, looking at his watch.
“Dad, it’s not even eight”, I say. “Now, how do I look?”
“You look absolutely stunning”, Mom says. “Those boys are very lucky.”
I don’t often wear a dress, but when I do, I like to go all out. I even had my hair done today.
I hear wheels screeching to a halt outside and a car horn honking, and my heart leaps into my throat.
“Remember, no drinking”, Dad says. “And be back by eleven.”
Just before I make it to the window to see if it’s them, the front door flies open, Jack and Zach standing there in their matching suits looking like a million dollars apiece.
“Ms. Jennifer Cole?” they say in unison. “Your chariot awaits.”
“Back by eleven”, Dad shouts as the twins scoop me up, one hand in each of theirs and we canter excitedly towards their version of a rented limousine, which is actually a horse drawn carriage, with the sun setting in the background.
I look up because I’m not entirely sure how to continue, only to see Marcy blatantly looking over my shoulder to read what I’m writing.
“Hey”, I remonstrate, slamming the notebook immediately shut.
“It’s not very realistic, is it? A horse drawn carriage. Who do you think you are, the queen?”
“This is private, Marcy”, I say, a little embarrassed I’ve let my guard down enough that she’s caught me.
“You could just tell them, you know.”
“Yeah, right, like that’s going to work. Me, and Donkey an item. As if that’s going to happen.”
Marcy shrugs, popping gum against her teeth and chewing away languidly. “It won’t get real just because you write about it.”
“It’s better than nothing”, I say.
“Come on, we’re going to miss it. Get your shit together and come with me. You did bring them, right?”
“I brought them”, I say, the binoculars the first thing I put in my bag that morning.
Part Two.
Wishful Thinking
Chapter Five
I guess it was a little far fetched, but that’s what fantasy is all about after all. If I was writing a love story about someone else, I might have made it a bit more realistic.
“I can’t believe you get to live next door to that.”
Marcy is the only person I know who can smoke an entire cigarette without once removing it from her lips. Flat on her front with both hands cupping the binoculars to hold them steady she has turned it into an art form.
“You ever find out if the rumors are true”, she continues. “You
know, because even from here it looks like there is a hell of a lot of something large in those shorts.”
Donkey are leading the pack of runners, neck and neck at the head of the field. I don’t need to tilt my binoculars down to see it, I know the rumors are true.
“Never leave their window open by mistake?” Marcy says, the cigarette stuck to her bottom lip as though fixed there with glue.
“You’d already know if they did”, I say. “You’d be the first.”
“Unbelievable”, Marcy says. “The way their muscles move, it’s like, perfection.”
“Are you drooling over your cigarette?”
“Man, Jenny, if I was you, and lived next to these two, I’d, I don’t know what I’d do, It’s obvious why you’re in love.”
“Hey, I’m not in love.”
“Please”, Marcy says. “We both want to fuck these guys, but you, you’ve got little star shaped twinkles in your eyes. You’ve had them for as long as I’ve known you.”
“It’s that obvious, huh?” I ask.
“Come on, Jenny, it’s not like you guys aren’t friends, right? Why don’t you just tell them how you feel instead of writing imaginary stories about them asking you to the prom, and then taking your virginity.”
I’d lower my binoculars to give her a look, but I don’t want to take them off the twins. I give her a push instead.
“If I told them, my life would be over. We have a relationship as neighbors and friends and they’d hit the roof if they knew I’d been crushing on them.”
“Seriously? You don’t know men.”
“Come on, after all this time of not saying anything, don’t you think it would come across as a little weird. Plus there are two of them, which makes it twice as hard.”
“And that’s a negative? Come on, have you even thought this through?”
“Yes”, I confess. “A million times. Every single time I think about one reason they’d both say yes, a thousand reasons appear out of nowhere for why they’d say no and laugh me away. I can’t take that kind of humiliation.”
“Even for Donkey?” Marcy asks as we both watch the boys cross the line in first place, half a lap ahead of everyone else and so close together it’s impossible to see who has won.
“Even for Donkey”, I shamefully admit.
“Well”, Marcy says, the binoculars finally coming down and the cigarette now nothing but a butt she gracefully removes from her mouth. “Just don’t do something you’re going to end up regretting, that’s all.”
“They’re going to go out of state”, I say after a moment of quiet reflection. “The colleges are fighting over them with all kinds of scholarships.”
“So what?”
“So what? It means after the summer I’m not going to see them.”
“You are such a pessimist”, Marcy says.
“I’m a realist, Marcy.”
“That’s why you’ve never been laid.”
“Huh, so what’s your excuse?”
“I’m waiting for the right man”, Marcy bullshits.
She sits up and sparks another cigarette while I tear grass into shreds, my mind wandering.
“You know, there were times I thought we’d never get out of this place”, I say.
“There were times I thought you never wanted to.”
That makes me smile. “I studied hard, unlike some.”
“Too hard”, Marcy says.
“It got me onto the course I want to do.”
“Then it’s all going to have been worth it.”
“Maybe they’ll ask me”, I say, almost to myself.
“Sure”, Marcy says, nodding her head in agreement. “I expect they are just waiting for the right moment.”
She takes my hand and we pull each other to our feet.
“You think spying on them is immoral?” I ask on the way back down towards the car lot.
“Not half as immoral as the rest of the stuff you want to do to them”, she says, my face turning beetroot red almost immediately.
“Come on”, she continues, “Your secret’s safe with me. You just make sure I’m the first person you tell when you finally get them both into bed.”
“Done”, I say.
“I’m going to miss our Wednesdays.”
I’m going to miss my wednesdays, thursdays, fridays and all days, I think.
“So how long have you been writing out your fantasies for?” she says when we’re near her car, her eyes all over my satchel. My hands go to it protectively.
“Oh, come on. It’s creative writing, I’m practising.”
Marcy gives me her best eye roll.
“You going to let me read them?”
“No”, I protest.
“Not even the sexy bits.”
“There aren’t any sexy bits.”
“You write a story about Donkey and you don’t put in any sexy bits?”
“I hadn’t got there yet”, I say. “It was going to happen at the prom.”
“Jennifer Cole!” Marcy says, eyes wide. “You are way naughtier than you look, you know that? Come on, get in, if you’re lucky we’ll get a shot of them on the way back home.”
In the car, I ask her.
“Who are you taking?”
“You know it’s not really my thing, Jen.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Alright”, she says. “I didn’t want to say because you hadn’t got a date yet. Matt Briers.”
“Matt ‘Hockey Stick’ Briers?”
Marcy raises her eyebrows perhaps to mimic me. “He stepped up his game”, she says.
“I thought he was expelled”, I say.
“Yeah, look, it’s a little complicated. I’m going to have to sneak him in, but that’s fine. We’ll work something out.”
“You’ve got a date”, I say inwardly.
“Come on, it’s not that unbelievable.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“There’s always Kevin Peabody”, Marcy says with a grin. “He’s been lusting after you since seventh grade.”
“Please”, I say. I think I’d rather go alone.
“Just come with us, there’s going to be a group anyway.”
My eyes wander towards the entrance to the sports field as we drive past, hoping to spot Jack and Zach as they make their way home from training. If I had just a teensy weensy bit of their confidence, I’d get Marcy to drive in and offer them a lift home. Donkey sweating on the back seat would be a nice way to brighten up what is turning into a depressing last week at school.
With graduation over, prom in a couple of weeks, summer after that and then college in the fall, my life feels like it’s about to peter out into the nothingness it was always meant to be. They say that in high school you define yourself as the person you eventually end up becoming, which in my case is going to suck horribly.
“Jenny, you are coming aren’t you? Plenty of people go without dates. We can share Matt if you want, I’m not that bothered.”
I look at Marcy, my best friend for years, and smile. Thank God she’s not going out of state. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her and the twins in one fell swoop.
“Or you know, you can wait until they ask you”, she adds.
“Thanks, Marcy.”
That picture I painted of myself looking beautiful, hair done up waiting for Jack and Zach to whisk me away to perfection seems like a million miles away as we head for home. Part of me wants to rip the pages out and burn them for daring to even think it might be possible, but I can’t bring myself to destroy what might be the closest I ever get to the reality of having them.
Outside our house, and even from inside the car, it’s possible to hear Donkey’s parents arguing.
“They just don’t stop do they?” Marcy says, inclining her head towards the window.
“It’s a miracle Donkey turned out as well adjusted as they have”, I say.
“Come on, you ever seen them alone? Split them up and they are like two lost litt
le puppies, believe me. It’s like some kind of weird symbiotic relationship where they parasite off each other.”
I push her on the shoulder. “Oh, come on! You’re just jealous.”
“Have you even seen the guys I get to live next to. If you were any kind of friend you’d let me stay over here, you know, permanently.”
I give her a suspicious look. “You’d never leave.”
“It’s hard to fault perfection.”
“You know, Marcy, I’m surprised you never asked them”, I say.
“Oh come on, what am I going to do with two guys at once? You know they come in a package, right? Plus, you’d hate me forever if they said yes, and you’re my best friend.”
“I’m your only friend, Marcy”, I correct her.
“Exactly, which is why I can’t lose you.”
I pull my satchel to my chest. “Don’t tell anyone about the book will you?”
“Pinky swear I won’t”, Marcy says. “But if you ever write the sexy bits in, you’ve got to let me read them.”
“You know it’s about me, don’t you?” I say, just in case she’s forgotten.
Marcy shrugs. “You are kinda sexy, in a weird, geeky sort of way.”
“Thank you, I think”, I say.
“And, by the way, there is nothing weird about writing your fantasies down on paper. In detail. Just in case you were wondering. I’m not worried at all by your current state of mind”, Marcy says.
“Practise”, I mumble, suddenly embarrassed again by it. “I’ll never be a writer if I don’t, you know, visualize and-.”
I search for the word while Marcy looks like she’s so bored by it all she’s become distracted.
“Marcy”, I remonstrate.
“Shh, never mind that”, she says, waving her hand at me. “Time to do some visualizing for real.”
It takes me a moment to realize what she’s talking about, until I follow her eye line to the wing mirror and see the unmistakeable perfection of Jack and Zach jogging gently towards us.
“Fuck”, I say.
Like always, I feel completely unprepared. You would have thought that after almost ten years living next to them I’d be comfortable in their company, but no. I’m a bundle of fucking nerves. “How do I look?” I worriedly ask Marcy.
Donkey Doubled: A Twin Stepbrother Menage Romance Page 2