Chapter Two: First Encounter

I turned the key to the off position and slowly pulled it from the ignition. Christina flipped down the visor and quickly applied a fresh coat of lipstick and then beamed at her reflection. That was me there in the mirror. Her mirror image, but ultimately not her and nothing like her. Then she fluffed her blonde hair. It was short, just like mine. We both used to have super long beautiful hair but Christina got it into her head one day to cut it when our mother told us we should never cut it. So she dragged me out and we cut it off. It hung just above our shoulders, slightly wavy. You never tell Christina to not do something. She'll just do it. Don't kiss that boy. She kisses the boy. Don't wear thongs. She wears thongs. Don't stay out all night. She stays out all night. Don't break curfue, she does.

“Are you ready?” she asks me, poking at her eye, I'm not sure why.

“Yeah.” I didn't want to look in the mirror. I didn't want to compare myself to that. Because although I looked identical, in so many ways I was just never going to measure up. My hair would always be misplaced, hers always perfect, and my lips would never be that perfect and shiny and full. My cheeks would never be quite so highlighted, and my eyes never so perfectly lined. Because I really just didn't care enough to try.

I tucked my purse and wallet under the seat and opened the door and closed it behind me. Pushing the keys safely into my front pocket and turned my gaze away from our bright green 'stang and turned my attention onto the building in front of me. It was large and old-age. It was made of brick like the classic old buildings of the town. It was probably over a hundred years old. It had a big triangle and X on it, symbols for Delta Chi. I could hear the music, a low hum from their basement. There was a long line outside of people waiting to get in. College students. College girls mostly.

Christina grabbed my arm and I had to smile as she led me past the crowd, past all these girls and guys all older than us, all people who belonged there more than us. And we cut to the front and the big college guy with a bandana around his forehead looked up from his list at us. He smiled upon seeing Christina.

“Hey gorgeous,” he said and she beamed at him.

“Hi baby! This is my sister Kris,” she said, putting her arm around me.

“Well shit girl, I didn't know you had a twin. Double trouble, I better warn them before you go in.” He winked at us and waved his hand for us to go in. A couple of people behind us yelled out some insults about how this was bullshit, but Christina didn't take notice. If they weren't already in, she wasn't interested because they weren't important.

The sound of the music as we made our way down into their basement was like a physical blow. I could feel the base thud in my chest. I didn't know what song it was, but I'd heard it before. On the radio, at other parties, and sometimes Christina played it. Some rap or hip hop song. It had one of those beats that changed the way you walked, made your every step be in time with the song.

Christina kissed my cheek before spinning off to the bar. She'd taken a couple of shots of tequila before we'd left the house, so she was already buzzing. Alcohol made her flirty and affectionate. Which usually ended in her making out with someone, or multiple someones by the end of the night. It was why she was invited to things like this. She was fun and boosted guys' egos and had the no strings attached attitude.

I followed her slowly, picking my way past people. Many nodded to me like I was Christina. Unless we were standing next to eachother, you couldn't tell us apart. She stood at the bar, standing on her tiptoes to lean across the counter to show off her boobs to the tender. We were only about 5'2” so really any amount of counter leanage was quite impressive. He was smiling, so it must have been working great. A few of the guys behind her turned and I could tell they were saying something about her ass, clad in its tiny little skirt. She was wearing this tight black halter top that exposed her dainty back and shoulders. It had splatters of white strewn across it that glowed iridescent in the black lights.

I just wore jeans and a dark grey tank top with sequins strewn about up one side. They glistened under the blacklights, but didn't glow almost blindingly like white did. I really didn't care to draw that much attention to myself, not that it would have. Everyone else had some form of white on.

She got some red colored concoction and left the bar and came back to me. Offering it to me, of course, she said “this night is going to be crazy, I can feel it already.”

“Me too,” I said, shaking my designated driver head at her drink. She brought it to her lips and drank about half of it down in a few gulps. It was going to be one of those nights. She took a step back and faltered a little on her little black stilettos. “Careful with that,” I said.

She waved her hand at me and threw back her head and started moving her hips to the music.

Suddenly a guy stood next to us with dark brown buzzed hair. He had one of those charmer smiles and a body like a football player, which I imagined he was. He reached out and tucked Christina's hair behind her ear. “Hello beautiful,” he said in a deep low voice that I could barely hear over the pound of the music. He shot me a similarly charming smile, but I imagine he couldn't miss that Christina was the easier and more welcoming catch.

“Hey!” she said, her eyebrows raising with her voice. “Who are you?”

“Mark Hammilton,” he said loudly to both of us, his eyes flicking at me to include. “You two can't be twins, are you? Because I don't think the universe can handle two such gorgeous girls.”

She laughed and tossed her hair with a flick of her head. “We are twins! You don't happen to be Hammilton from the football team, do you?”

Mark beamed at her in a way that could only mean that he was, in fact, that very person.

A couch was catching my eye in the distance and the heals Christina had made me wear were killing my feet so I gently touched his shoulder in a it-was-good-to-meet-you way and made my way to it.

It was going to be a long night.

As much as Christina liked moving around the party, she kept going back to Mark, something about him had obviously caught her interest. Probably because he was similar to Sam, both were football players. Granted, he was ridiculously attractive, how could he not be with that white perfect smile and chiseled body. He was like the definition of man, but not really my type. I didn't like that overtly cocky attitude. I didn't like being treated like I should feel privileged to be standing next to someone, which is the kind of attitude he had. Or perhaps I was biased since that was Sam's attitude. Really I didn't know him, but it wasn't on my list of priorities to get to know him.

I kept my eye on him and stayed in my corner. Occasionally I got up to move around or dodge people who were convinced I was Christina and wouldn't believe me when I told them I was her twin. She knew a surprising amount of very drunk or very stupid people. Perhaps they were both.

And then a whoop sounded from the door into the basement. The crowd of people making cheering and greeting noises blocked my view from seeing who it was. Mark put his arm around Christina and led her in the direction, a big smile on his face as he yelled something over the music to her. Curiously I stood up to get a better look, but didn't make my way towards the mass.

Finally a guy broke from the crowd, a twenty four pack of Budlight in each hand. He was tall, over six feet tall, with messy blonde hair and a hard jaw but he had a big smile on his face as he laughed at something someone yelled at him. He was wearing a white wife beater and hip-fitting baggy black jeans. He was one of those thin lean muscled people, but his shoulders budged as he lifted the cases of beer at Mark, who'd stopped him. Mark hit him in the shoulder with his fist and the guy surprisingly didn't budge. He just smirked and said something that I couldn't begin to hear from across the room with a big black speaker behind me. I watched him be introduced to Christina whom he politely nodded at, but he was probably the first person who didn't take an extra ten seconds to roam his eyes over her body and smile or whoop approvingly. He just looked past her and around the room.

Then his eyes fell on me, and I felt stupid for just standing there staring at him. I looked down and sat back down on the couch, feeling out of place. But when I looked back up he was still looking at me, then he glanced back at Christina, obviously making the twinship connection. I smiled and nodded at him. He didn't nod back, he just looked at me for a moment and then smiled and said something to Mark and walked toward the bar and away from me. The song changed and Christina put her hands on Mark's delectably buff chest and started pushing him back towards the mass of dancing people blocking my view to the bar where the blonde guy had disappeared to. She weaved into the swarm and I could just barely make out Mark's head probably a foot or more above hers.

I crossed my legs and laid my head back on the couch and closed my eyes. I liked the song that was playing. He was singing about how “you're too beautiful girl”. Reminded me of my sister.

A weird sort of sixth sense feeling, or maybe vibrations on the floor under my feet made me open my eyes and lift my head to see a pair of jeans standing in front of me. Big slightly baggy jeans on a tall, slender figure. His black belt at my eye level. I looked up into the face of the tall blonde guy who'd dramatically entered a few moments earlier. In each hand he held two beers, one opened, one unopened. He didn't bend down to talk to me, or try to yell over the music. He just looked at me with one eyebrow quirked.

I felt small and insignificant sunken into the couch so I quickly got to my feet. He'd been standing with his toes just about to mine though so when I stood up my body was an inch or two from being flush with his. A smirk spread across his face at this. He leaned in to my ear but didn't touch me, “Who are you?” he asked, his voice heart-throbbingly low.

“Who are you?” I demanded back. I wasn't flirty and boy crazy like Christina, but I knew a hot guy when I saw one, and I was just as attracted to this one as Christina was to Mark. I, on the other hand, had self control. I took a big step to the side and slipped out from between him and the couch. He pivoted to follow me with his eyes. He didn't make an attempt to slouch to my level, instead he seemed to like making me look up at him. He took a step closer to me and said, “I'm Blake, I'm the guy with the beer. Who are you?” He offered the still sealed beer to me, which I appreciated since he was obviously considerate of the fact that girls like me didn't drink from open containers.

I shook my head at it though. “I'm Kris, the designated driver.” I took a step back from him to put a good foot and a half between our bodies. He took another step closer and I could feel his warmth radiating off of him.

He leaned in to my ear again and I could feel his breath tickle my skin, “oh that's too bad, how did you get stuck with that?” He smelled like leather and cigarettes and some amazingly arousing cologne.

I side stepped him again and said, “you met my twin.”

He smirked again and followed me with a pivot and a step again, putting us inches appart again. “Yes, I did. She's had a few of these, hasn't she?” he asked, wiggling the sealed beer at me before handing it blindly to a guy standing behind him. The guy, startled, stop talking to the girl next to him and looked stupidly at Blake for a moment before accepting the beer with a yelled “thanks” over the music. Blake didn't even give him a glance, his eyes were locked on me. He just nodded and brought his own opened one to his lips and took a long drink.

“She has,” I agreed and took another step back but I bumped into a girl who was dancing with another girl, she sent me a unamused look. I quickly bounced away from her and took a couple steps away from the crowd and back towards the less occupied corner of the room. Blake persued me with fixed eyes. I looked to the girl I'd bumped into in attempts to avoid his intense gaze, she'd momentarily stopped dancing to run her eyes up and down his body a few times before noticing me looking at her and quickly going back to dancing.

“You look out of place.”

I looked back up at him, he'd gotten really close to me again, so I took a step back. “Whatever,” I said, not really knowing what else to say to something like that.

“Its refreshing,” he said. I didn't really know what that meant, so I took another step back and glanced around for my sister. She was no where in sight. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” I said honestly. Christina usually told guys she was eighteen so that they'd think she was legal and wouldn't freak out. In a way I hoped it scared him off.

It didn't. His smile just broadened. “Illegal,” he told me, taking a step closer to me.

I took another step back, but I bumped into the wall and to my right was immediately the adjacent wall. Somehow he'd backed me into the corner and his smile broaded again when he saw that I'd noticed it. He pressed his hand against the wall over my shoulder to lock me in and drew closer to me. Still a few inches between us.

“Yes, illegal,” I said pointedly.

“I like that.”

“How old are you?” I demanded like somehow if I kept talking he wouldn't think he was intimidating me or getting to me at all.

“Twenty.”

“And yet you brought beer?”

“I have my sources.”

I rolled my eyes. “Illegal.”

“Illegal,” he agreed, smiling down at me and moving a little closer, his body heating mine simply from proximity.

“You like that.”

“I like that.” He had perfect white teeth and a slightly crooked nose, like it had been broken. “Can you dance?”

I made a face at him. “Of course I can dance.”

“Lets dance then.”

And for some reason, as I grasped frantically for a reason not to, I found myself saying, “that would be illegal.”

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

“Maybe I wouldn't?” I said finally, and ducked under his arm and started way from that dangerous little corner.

“I think you might like it too,” he said in my ear from behind me as he followed me.

I turned around, “what makes you think that?”

Immediately I had to back up because he was so close to me and he followed me aggressively, clearly backing me towards the dance floor. “Because you're an intriguing clever little thing that I'm finding I like.”

“Because I'm illegal,” I pointed out.

He smiled and slipped one hand along my waist around to my back and pulled me gently up against him. “Because you don't belong here.”

“And you do?” I demanded, pulling back from him, slightly offended.

His hand pressed hard into my back and pulled me flush up against him and his eyes seemed to dance with amusement. “No, I don't.”

I had to crane my neck to look up at him or else stare at his pecs which I could tell without touching were toned rock hard. I couldn't really help but put my hand on them though. Nor could I help running the other hand up his stomach, up his pec, and over his shoulder. He had an amazing six pack under that shirt. “You looked pretty welcome,” I said, trying to fend off the sexual tension he seemed determined to ignite between us.

“I am welcome, but this isn't my scene. I don't usually stay.” He started rocking his hips against mine to the music and there was really no way for me to resist dancing with him back.

“But you're staying now.”

“For the moment, yes.” He smiled down at me and took another few swallows of his beer. When he spoke again I could smell it on his breath. It smelled good and I almost wished I wasn't designated driver this night.

“Kris!!!” a voice screeched in my ear. Both our heads snapped in the direction. For a moment I'd been captivated by him, absorbed by his piercing eyes and inquiring words. It was Christina and she looked more than a little drunk and absolutely tickled pink. I never danced with people at parties, I would talk to people, but my socialization went as far as casual conversations.

“Hey,” I said to her and glanced back up at Blake. He'd stopped dancing with me and the intensity had left his eyes. He looked at her almost as though he was annoyed by her interruption. I can imagine why, but it felt weird having it be Christina interrupting instead of me. I'd pulled Christina away from people she'd been grinding or making out with to go home.

“Who are you?” she asked, her eyes traveling down his body to linger on his chest before looking back up at his face.

“I'm Blake,” he said flatly. And then he looked back at me and some, but not all of the intensity came back. He just looked at me for a half a second pointedly then leaned into the ear opposite Christina and said, “I've got to go, I'll see you again.” He pulled back and touched his hand to the side of my face and gently rubbed my cheek with his thumb before stepping back and turning on his heal to walk away from me. He didn't look back, just disappeared through the door out of the basement.

“Oh my god,” Christina said to me, practically bouncing up and down. “Kris! He's a babe!”

I nodded and I wanted to smile and be happy with her, but ultimately he'd walked away. I didn't believe for a second that I'd see him again.

“Did he think you were me?” she asked.

“No,” I said, and really I think it was the first time that a guy like that hadn't thought I was her. She almost looked hurt by my answer so I added, “He's not a regular here.”

“Really?” she asked, “Mark acted like he knew him pretty well.”

I shrugged and she did too. Then, speak of the devil, Mark slipped from between a few people behind her and snuck up to kiss her neck. She jumped and yelled something at him, playfully slapping his shoulder. He nodded his head at me before pulling her away from me and towards the dancing mass.

I shuddered a little and went back to my couch. I felted shocked. He had treated me like Christina, like the most beautiful girl in the room, yet I liked to think he hadn't looked at her the same way. And something about that made me extremely pleased with myself. I found myself content to just sit on the couch for the next hour as Christina got rapidly drunker and replay those few minutes we'd spent together over and over. And a little part of me, a very little part, hoped I'd see him again. The rational part knew I wouldn't, since we weren't college students and didn't frequent these kinds of places except on special occasions like this.

An hour later I could see Christina across the room, plastered against the wall in the corner making out with Mark. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and he was inching her towards a back doorway. This was, of course, my cue to intervene. I sighed heavily, because it wasn't usually pretty. Then I got to my feet and picked my way through the crowd that was starting to thin out. When I reached them I could hear him saying something along the lines of “Let's go back to my place baby,” or something equally untactful.

“Hey,” I said to the two of them as Mark leaned in to kiss her neck. She giggled and screeched something indistinguishable at me or him, I'm not sure which. I put my hand on Mark's shoulder. “I should get her home.”

“Hey, don't worry about it, I can take her home.”

“She's not really in the condition to direct you,” I said as Christina nearly collapsed onto the floor when he stepped back from her.

“Yeah, good call,” he said, sending a longful glance at my sister. He gently lifted her away from the wall and passed her to me.

She flung her arms around my neck and yelled, “Kris!” in my ear. She then proceeded to try to tell me something about her night, but she couldn't complete her sentences so I ignored her.

“Remind her of my name in the morning, Mark Hammilton,” he said.

I nodded, “I will, thanks.”

“Good luck with that one!” He winked at me and I shuffled her away. It was difficult to walk with her like this. Not only did she lean most of her body weight on me, but she kept getting these impulses to go back to the bar, or go talk to that guy, or say hi to that girl, so she would suddenly jerk the opposite direction we were walking.

“No no, Christy, we're going to go home. We're gonna go to bed.”

“Oh, sleep!” she exclaimed, smiling longingly.

“Yeah, we're going to go to sleep, and get some water, and eat something.”

She said something about getting another drink but I managed to get her out of the basement and up the stairs. The door guys gave me a sympathetic look and held the front door open for me. We made our way down the street to where I'd parked—only a block away, thank god. I leaned her against the car and fished in my pocket for the keys, pulled them out, and unlocked her door.

“Are you going to throw up?” I asked, concerned about her puking in the car. She hadn't yet, but I certainly wouldn't put it past her.

“No!” she said loudly, waving her hand at me. “I'm fine!”

“Alright.” I opened the door and helped her into the seat and put her seatbelt on, since I knew she couldn't begin to slide that piece of metal into the buckle. Then I closed the door on her and went around to the driver's side, climbed in, and started up the car. It was a short, fifteen minute drive to our house. It was just out of town towards the countryside. We owned ten rolling acres of green grass. I pulled up to our driveway and pushed one of the buttons on the garage door opener on the visor. The big black gate in front of me made a little squeak and slowly opened away from me. I waited for it to open completely and then drove through the gates, pressing the button again for it to close behind me.

It was about 3 in the morning and pitch dark out, only the porch light on at our house. Christina was almost asleep leaning against the car door, mumbling about something. I turned the car off after pulling in front of the house and got out to go get her. Slowly I opened the door and reached in to support her from falling out since she clearly would have. Then I undid her seatbelt for her and helped her out of the car. She could still kind of walk, which was good because we were the same size and it wasn't a walk in the park to carry her, especially when she would get the idea into her head to go look at something and suddenly lurch some strange direction.

“Shh,” I told her, “we don't want to wake mom and dad.”

“Shh,” she hissed loudly and then giggled.

I rolled my eyes and led her as quietly as I could to our room. Even though our parents were rich we slept in the same room. It had just always been that way and neither one of us had felt the need or want to move out. There were certainly enough rooms in the house. But our parents had designed this room for us, two closets, an oversized bathroom with two sinks, and a curtain that could be pulled to divide our room down the middle. It was usually ¼ to ½ drawn, just enough to block view to the upper parts of our beds. The point of it was just so when we were fighting we didn't have to look at eachother, and it served as a line to divide the sides. I kept my side clean, Christina didn't keep her's clean. Her stuff stayed on her side, mine on my side. We didn't fight so much anymore though, so we rarely moved the curtain.

I sat Christina on her bed and knelt to take off her shoes. She flopped backwards across the bed and laid there, her feet dangling off the bed. I shook my head and quickly untied her shoes, a weird process since I was used to tying and untying my own shoes. I pulled them off then she sat up and started waving at me again, “I'm fine.”

I stood back as she took off her pants and shirt and climbed into bed in her lingerie. She would probably have a bruise from her underwire stabbing her all night long, but she was in bed and safe.

And not puking.

I went to my own side of my room and started to take off my shoes. It had been an interesting night. I couldn't shake Blake from my mind. But I imagine that had something to do with that being my first experience like that. In a way I felt like I had been Christina for a night, but really that wasn't the kind of thing that would happen to Christina. She would have either been blatantly flirting back or she would have brushed him off and gone on to bigger fish. No, I had been myself for the night, and someone had liked it.