I got back at her though. Still pretending to be Maddy, I went and found Jenna and told her I wasn’t feeling well and was staying home that night. Then I called Mom to tell her the same thing. Maddy was beyond pissed; she’d unintentionally got herself a Friday night at home in bed with Mom hovering and me gloating. As for Jenna … I’d never heard that girl scream so loud in my life, something about a family dinner to celebrate her birthday that Maddy had promised she’d be at. Oh well, not my problem.
“Ella, please,” Maddy begged, pulling me from that memory. “I’ll make it up to you. I swear. Whatever you want.”
“You always say that, Maddy.”
“I know, but I mean it this time. Please.”
I had a memory full of promises just like that one. Difference was, I kept my promises. Maddy’s were nothing more than hollow assurances aimed at getting people to do what she wanted.
We were so different. Maddy was skirts and heels and flatirons, where I was jeans and Tshirts and ponytails. She was Friday-night parties and homecoming dances. I was B-rated horror movies on the couch with microwave popcorn. From her perfect hair to her perfect friends, right down to her perfectly pedicured toes, Maddy was my opposite.
“Ella? Ella!” Maddy shouted into the phone.
The muffled crying I’d heard earlier was gone, her rapid breathing and rising pitch lending an edge of panic to her voice. I don’t know why she’d freak; it’s not like I’d ever say no. She was my sister, my twin sister at that, and I would always help her.
“Fine. Whatever,” I said, and grabbed a sweatshirt from the end of my bed. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”
I quickly flipped through my drawings, picked the best of four sketches of the exact same subject, and carefully tore it out. Surprisingly, it was the first one I’d done. I scanned it in, adding it to the ones I’d already uploaded, and hit the Submit button. It was only October 18. The application wasn’t due for another two weeks, but, like I said, I wanted it in early. Plus, if Maddy expected me to drop everything to come get her, then the least she could do was wait the ten extra minutes it’d take me to e-mail my art school application.
My dog, Bailey, hopped down off my bed the minute I stood up, intent on following me around. He beat me to my bedroom door, then waited as if he needed my permission. Knowing him, he’d bark the second I left the house, letting me know he was not happy staying behind. I didn’t mind him being angry. He was a dog, he’d get over it in less than a second. What I didn’t want was Bailey to wake my parents up. It was bad enough I had to go bail Maddy out. I didn’t feel like dealing with Mom and Dad’s questions, too.
I grabbed a treat from the box I kept on my nightstand and hid it beneath the covers on my bed. Bailey did as I expected; he jumped up and started nosing through my comforter. I’d hidden it deep enough that it would take Bailey a while to find, hopefully long enough for me to get out of the house unnoticed.
I poked my head into my parents’ room before heading downstairs. They were asleep, the TV still casting a pale blue light. I thought about turning it off but figured the sudden lack of noise might wake them up. My eye caught the array of pictures covering Mom’s dresser. The flickering glow from the TV gave a hint of what they were, but I didn’t need to see the photos to describe each one. They’d been there for as long as I could remember.
The big one in the middle was a family portrait taken three Christmases ago. We were gathered around a fake fireplace in some photographer’s studio. The scowl on my face was the source of a huge argument that day. Next to that was a picture of Maddy and me on our sixteenth birthday. She looked stunning and was staring off into the distance, probably at Alex. I was standing there praying for Mom to hurry up and take the damn thing so I could go back to my room. The other three pictures were of Maddy. Maddy after her field hockey team won divisionals her sophomore year. Maddy and Alex at junior prom last year. Maddy with the keys to her “new” car.