Sue wiped her face. She stared at me, and I could see a smile begin to spread on her face. She had already stopped crying.
“We are going to have so much fun.” Sue nodded her head, vigorously. “So much fun.”
“Expenditure approved,” my father said. “But you should have consulted with me first.”
I shrugged. I had given him an easy way out, and I wasn’t surprised that he took it. My mother emerged from the kitchen, waving an empty Häagen-Dazs box in her hand.
“Who ate the last ice-cream bar?” she wanted to know.
Sue pointed at me.
“Liar,” I said.
I was tired of Sue blaming everything on me. I had stood up for her, protected her after she attacked my only friend, told my parents I wanted to ride a unicycle. And still she turned on me.
My mother sighed. Like my father, she wore crisp, clean, professional suits, but she did not have the glamorous aura of a television star. My mother looked tired. She didn’t care if Sue betrayed me time after time. Sue was my identical twin to worry about.
“There is absolutely nothing in this house to eat,” she said.
Lying in bed late at night, I imagined myself in a large classroom taking standardized tests, deliberately darkening in the circles of the correct answers with my freshly sharpened pencil: antonyms and analogies, reading comprehension, geometry problems and algebra. I loved sitting in a quiet classroom, figuring out answers to questions. Math was my favorite, especially algebra: x + y = z. I found the process calming. The equations were easy. I always got the right answers. Even though it was summer, I counted the days until high school. I was enrolled in an honors program, classes which Sue did not qualify for. For the first time in our lives, we would have completely different schedules.
I decided I would give Sue my summer. I would give her my summer and then I would move into my own room. She wouldn’t like it, but I had to pretend not to care. It pained me to hurt Sue, but there was no getting around it. I would not pierce my lip for her or go to the same college. Sue and I would grow up, and with any luck, we would grow apart.
Neither Sue nor I had any natural talent for the unicycle. We practiced one at a time, using each other to lean on until we got our balance. It was hard to get upright, let alone think about getting anywhere. I told myself that it was a good thing I had no friends around over the summer, because I would be too ashamed for anyone to see me. Lisa Markman was in Milan. She had been discovered by a talent agent soon after the bruises healed from her nose job. She was mainly doing runway work, which according to Lisa, was how most elite models started their careers.
My life wasn’t so glamorous. My arms were covered in bruises from the imprint of Sue’s fingers. There were more bruises on my legs from the pedals slamming into my calves when I fell. I also had scabs on my arms and legs and my knees, and most painful of all, the palms of my hands.
“Scab city,” Sue said, looking me over.
She thought that it was funny. Sometimes, when she was about to fall, she would reach out for me, wildly grabbing on to my arm. One time she got my head, pulling out a clump of my hair. All summer long, learning to ride the unicycle, I’d suppressed the urge to cry. Sue, I reminded myself, was the twin who cried.
Sue tried harder than I did, and she fell harder. I watched her go down headfirst onto the cement sidewalk. She screamed as she fell, and as Sue lay there in the street, the wheel of her unicycle still spinning, I started to imagine what would happen if she never got up. I’d pack her clothes and send them to the Salvation Army. I would have to call the funeral parlor and make the arrangements. We had never talked about it, but I was certain that Sue would want to be cremated.
“That’s the hardest fall yet,” Sue said. Her voice was pleased. Her knees were bloody. She’d reopened a scab on the palm of her hand.
“Is this fun?” I asked her, pulling a twig from her ponytail.
“Let me tell you,” she said. “These sidewalks are paved with blood.”
The mailman had just walked up to our house, and he saw Sue fall from across the street.
“I thought I was going to have to race you to the hospital myself,” he said. “You girls should wear helmets.”
The kneepads and the pink helmets Sue had bought were on the top shelf of the hall closet. We looked freakish enough simply riding unicycles without the further burden of unflattering safety gear.
Sue wiped her bloody hands on her T-shirt.
“Not us,” she said. “We are too cool for helmets.”
“Too cool for school,” said the mailman. “I never imagined in a million years that I would see identical twins riding unicycles on my mail route. You’d sooner expect that in a David Lynch movie. Are you girls training for the circus?”
Sue shook her head.
“It’s for the pure pleasure,” she said. “The exult.”
Exult was a word in one of the vocabulary lists of my Princeton Review guide to the SATs. The book had disappeared from my knapsack, and when, a week later, it had mysteriously reappeared, the vocabulary pages with the words from sections D through F ripped out.
“Identical twins, pretty girls like you, could be the stars of a circus.”
“We are thinking about doing a sitcom,” Sue said. “If the money is good enough.”
I would never be on a sitcom with Sue. More than anything, I hated the thought of the Olsen twins, who had turned themselves into a twins corporation. Daisy barked at the mailman from inside the house, jumping on the front door.
“I bet we could get at least seventy thousand dollars an episode,” Sue said.
“Nah, you’ve got to set your standards much higher,” the mailman said, shaking his head. He was wearing shorts. Clearly, this was a man without dignity, and I did not understand why Sue was encouraging him to hang around. He stared at us as if lost in a reverie. Older men often had that reaction seeing the two of us together.
“Why not aim for the big screen?” he said, scratching his head. “That’s where the money is.”
I could still hear Daisy, barking herself into a frenzy inside the house, and I sadly noted that Brittany Lopez was in the passenger seat of the green SUV that drove slowly past our house.
“You ride for the mailman,” Sue said, pointing at me. “Chloe,” she explained to him, “is the better rider.”
I shook my head.
“Why not?” Sue said. “Why? Are you ashamed? Why won’t you ride?”
“I don’t want to.”
Sue threw her unicycle on the ground.
“You never want to. You act like you’re out here every day just for me.”
I didn’t know why that wasn’t enough. Sue had to know this wasn’t what I wanted. I could see her gearing up toward a crying fit. I would have to console her in front of the middle-aged mailman.
“One little ride wouldn’t hurt.” He looked at his watch, and then he looked at Sue, who was repeatedly kicking the trunk of a tree, breaking off chunks of bark.
Gingerly, I put the unicycle between my legs. It was still painful, balancing a hard piece of plastic in my crotch. I hated everything there was about riding a unicycle. But this time it was easy to find my balance, and I knew right away that I would be able to ride. I started to pedal, held my arms out to keep my balance, and kept on going all the way to the end of the block. I felt wonderful, competent and sure of myself, the way I did at school when I was handed a test and one look at the questions revealed that I would have no problems. Finally, I fell, speeding over a large tree branch in the street.
“You did it, Chloe.” Sue’d run down the block after me. Her face was red. She was out of breath. She pulled me up from the pavement. “You did it.”
The mailman also came over, to see that I was okay.
“I’ve got to finish my route,” he said. His voice was regretful. “Congratulations on some fine riding.” He patted my head, handing Sue the mail.
“You did it!” Sue repeated, but the excit
ement had already faded from her voice. “You do everything first.”
I heard what was happening.
“No,” I said. “You don’t get to cry. I am the one who fell on my head.”
I looked hopefully at the bloody pile of mail in Sue’s hand. In the beginning of summer, Lisa had sent me postcards from Italy, the first a picture of a gondola in a Venice canal and another of a cathedral in Milan.
Inside the house, Daisy had peed on the floor.
“Bad dog,” Sue yelled. “Bad girl.”
Daisy put her tail between her legs, and then she sat down in her pee. I felt a headache starting at the back of my skull.
“Let’s go swimming,” I said.
The sun was too hot to be teasing Daisy, but we teased her anyway, Sue and I in the pool, tossing her yellow plastic mouse back and forth. Daisy ran up and down the length of the pool, barking. We didn’t even notice Daniel approaching.
“Look at this,” he said. “The Bobbsey Twins torture the dog.”
“We’re just playing,” I said.
I tossed Daisy her mouse. She dropped it right back into the pool. I kept my eyes away from Daniel’s disapproving sneer. All our lives, Daniel was the only one who could always tell us apart. For as long as I could remember, he didn’t seem to like either of us. He didn’t seem to like people in general. He never went out. He would be home all weekend, practicing his guitar and reading books written by anarchists. About a year ago, he got interested in Sue. He started talking to her, giving her advice. He was the one who drove Sue to the mall the day she broke Lisa Markman’s nose.
“What are you home for anyway?” Sue said. For no reason at all, she started to splash Daisy with water from the pool.
Daniel sat down, rolled up his jeans, and dangled his feet into the water.
“You beg me not to go to college,” he said, “but you hate it when I’m home.”
Sue got out of the pool and dried Daisy with her towel.
“Poor baby,” she said. “Poor wet dog. Poor wet poodle.”
Daisy thumped her tail.
“She begged you?” I said. “You are going, right? Orientation starts in two weeks.”
Daniel laughed. “Both twins want me gone,” he said. “Fantastic.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, though it was exactly what I wanted. I was going to start high school and I would move into his bedroom. It would be the first time that I had my own room. My parents had agreed to this in a meeting. It was a documented fact.
Sue shook her head. “You are going to stay home and work at the bookstore. Education is a waste of time.”
Daniel shook his head. “Sorry, kiddo.”
He looked at me. “I’m going to leave some of my things in the room if that’s okay with you,” he said.
I nodded even though I didn’t want any of Daniel’s things in my room. I wanted my own room, clean and new. Our parents were wealthy divorce lawyers, but they had never considered buying a house big enough for all of their children. They were too busy to shop for real estate. Probably they thought that identical twins would want to share a room.
“Just some clothes,” Daniel said. “Some books. Whatever won’t fit into my car.”
I lifted my hands and placed them gently on the surface of the water, watching the tiny ripples spread from my fingers, imagining his empty room and how I would fill it. Out of nowhere, Sue kicked Daisy in the belly.
“Sue,” I said. “Why did you do that?”
Daisy whimpered. Her tail hung between her legs, but she didn’t leave Sue’s side. She licked her paws as if her pride had been wounded.
“Sue,” Daniel said. “You cannot keep hurting the dog.”
Sue didn’t answer. She rubbed her back. Her tattoo, of course. She was always rubbing her tattoo. Sometimes, Sue forgot to walk Daisy or give her water, but that was nothing unusual. It was no different than Sue forgetting to do her homework or clear the table after dinner or wash her hair. Sue would never hurt Daisy intentionally.
“I’m going to school in the fall,” Daniel said. “I have been counting the years.”
“The years,” I said. I didn’t know Daniel wanted to leave, too.
“She’s your responsibility,” Daniel said to me.
His voice was cold, as if he did not trust me to take proper care of Sue. I had no idea why Daniel disliked me the way he did. Sue had always been my responsibility. When had it ever been otherwise? He’d stood at Sue’s side and done nothing when she attacked my one and only friend.
“I’m no one’s responsibility,” Sue said.
She picked a scab off her elbow.
I hoisted myself out of the pool, walking past Daniel to get my towel.
“What is that?” Daniel said. “What the hell is that? A tattoo?”
I was wearing a pink bikini that left my tattoo exposed. No one had ever noticed our tattoos before. For gym class, Sue and I both changed in a bathroom stall.
Daniel got up from the side of the pool and walked over to me. He pulled the towel from around my waist.
“Sue,” he read. “How weird is that? You twins are so fucked up.”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Sue said. I put on my T-shirt.
She marched straight over to Daniel and raised her arm as if to slap him, but he grabbed her before she made contact. “You are so fucking jealous of us, you can’t even bear it,” Sue said, struggling to pull away. Daniel twisted her arm behind her back.
“Goddamnit,” Sue said. “That hurts. I hurt my arm on the unicycle, you asshole.”
Daisy was up on her feet, barking.
“Don’t try to hit me again,” Daniel said, letting go of Sue’s arm, “or I will throw you in the pool.”
Sue gave Daniel the middle finger, and Daniel grabbed Sue and threw her into the pool. Daisy crawled under a lounge chair, and from that protected position, she gave out a low, steady growl. Sue climbed out of the pool, and rushing right back in front of Daniel’s face, she pulled down her one-piece bathing suit and turned around. From where I stood, she looked small and skinny and helpless. Her chest was as flat as a board, her ribs sticking out, her wet hair plastered down in straggly bunches. I didn’t know that Sue was that skinny. She was always eating Häagen-Dazs bars.
“Okay. I get it,” Daniel said to Sue. He was looking down at the grass. “Why don’t you put your bathing suit back on?”
“I want you to look,” Sue snarled at him.
“Chloe,” Daniel read off of Sue’s back. He started to laugh like it was funny, but really, he seemed nervous.
“You both have tattoos,” he said.
Sue turned to face Daniel. Her chest was completely exposed, but she wasn’t embarrassed.
“We have tattoos,” she said. “There is nothing funny about it. It’s the most serious thing in the world. Why are you covering yourself up?” Sue screamed at me. “Take off your shirt. Let Daniel look at your tattoo.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want Daniel leering at us. We’d been having a nice day together. Why could nothing be easy with Sue? I wanted to be good to her, but she required so much from me. I would not undress for my older brother. This time, I would not give in to Sue’s sick ideas. I simply wouldn’t.
“Let him look at your tattoo.”
“This is perverted,” I said. “I won’t.”
“Let him,” she said.
Daniel looked nervous. But I shook my head.
Sue just stood there, half naked. Her hand balled up into a fist. “Let Daniel look at your tattoo,” she said.
I stared at Sue’s fist, spellbound. Would she actually hit me? She had broken Lisa Markman’s nose. She had punched her own dog. If she ever hit me, would I let myself hit her back?
“Show Daniel your tattoo, Chloe,” Sue said. “Let him really see.”
The sun was shining. The water in the swimming pool was a clear, crystal blue. I wanted to be a normal teenage girl. Sue was standing practically naked by the swimming pool, s
howing off my name, tattooed on her back. I lifted up my T-shirt.
“It’s nice?” Daniel said.
He touched the tattoo on Sue’s back with his finger. I felt myself shiver; it was as if Daniel had touched me. Today it was Daniel, but someday it would be someone else, a stranger, a boyfriend. He would run his fingers across Sue’s back, stroking my name.
“The tattoo is the reason you’re always touching your back,” he said.
“I do not always touch my back,” Sue said.
I pulled my T-shirt back down over my bikini. I remembered the disgusting man who gave us the tattoo, his nervous breathing when we undressed. I did everything for Sue. She needed me as if I were part of the oxygen she breathed, but she didn’t understand what it cost me.
“It’s not just about DNA,” Sue yelled. Her nipples were pale, pink. She stuck her flat chest out proudly. “It’s the choice we made to love each other forever and foremost. More than anyone else. We don’t need anybody else.”
I closed my eyes. My head started to hurt. I never chose to be an identical twin.
“Put on your bathing suit,” Daniel said.
“You’ll never understand,” Sue said.
But Daniel wouldn’t need to understand. There would always be Chloe and Sue, but Daniel would go to college and then he would do something else. My parents would go to work in their silver Mercedeses. They would earn large sums of money, using the rules of law to dismantle unhappy families as they ignored problems of their own. Here, at this house, for the next four years, there would always be Chloe and Sue, and I would be all alone, every day, with my obsessive twin sister. I closed my eyes, feeling the sun beat down on my eyelids. I saw a sample page of a standardized English test. I squeezed my eyes shut. I could see the questions, antonyms and analogies and reading comprehension. Whenever I didn’t know an answer on a multiple-choice test, I guessed the letter D.
“I feel sorry for you,” Daniel said.
I felt grateful for his kindness, but when I looked up at his face, I realized that he was talking to Sue.
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