Separated By Birth

“The--um, the Restructuring of South Asia took place during, um--” A pile of note cards scattered from Lethya's shaking hand, and her already white face paled a shade. Laise wasn't surprised; her twin had been dreading the class presentations all month and woken up all but paralyzed this morning. Now it was a miracle she could even stand on those quaking knees.
And Laise discovered that miracles didn't really last that long when, awkwardly reaching for the index cards, Lethya toppled over. The rest of the sixth grade class tried not to snicker, but didn't do so well. A girl on Laise's left shot to her feet and yelled, “Miss Forden, Lethya's sick'n needs to go to the Nurse'n I can take her'n--”
Miss Forden, who was already helping the ashen Lethya to her feet, nodded. “Come back right away, Rye.” The class had fallen silent at the mention of the Nurse (any mention of medicine conjured memories of bad-tasting syrups and the terror of children worldwide: needles) and now gravely watched as Lethya tottered out of the class, flushing hotly.
“Laise?”
The pale-haired girl glanced up at the teacher, a little knot of worry in her stomach being shoved aside. “Yes?”
“Are you ready to present?”
She nodded and walked to the front of the room, barely hearing the rasp as she stepped on one of the fallen note cards.

The Nurse knew very well that Lethya was in the pink of health. She also knew very well that sending her back to the classroom would merely make her die a second death, and thus kindly sentenced her to a fifteen minute wait on the cot and gave her a lollipop. Rye sat next to her, stretching out a dark curl and watching it spring back into place over and over again and secretly wishing she could have a lollipop as well. The room smelled of antiseptics and bandages, and a little bit like vomit when they missed a spot of it on the soothing pastel wallpaper. “Didja just get nervous?”
“Kinda,” Lethya whispered. Even now her fingers were working themselves into a world-class knot, her dark blue-gray eyes still stinging with tears of shame. “Bet Laise's presentation's great.”
Rye, who liked them both, chose to study the floor and continue pulling at her long curl.

“You look so cute, Laise!”
Laise smiled and shifted her weight, one hip emerging underneath a pale blue dress. She'd chosen the color to remind people that her eyes were just the same hue, and pulled her hair back in a sophisticated bun. She looked more than her thirteen years, and better than anyone else. “I like your shoes,” she told the other girl, and took a sip of the sparkling cider in her glass, wishing offhandedly that lying wasn't a bad thing. The many lights overhead caught the bubbles rising to the top, but the ballroom itself was fairly dim. It was an elegant party, where she would introduce herself to elegant people and show them how elegant she herself could be.
A tap on the shoulder made her turn around. “Where's Lethya?” her mother asked briskly.
“I thought she was still getting dressed,” Laise answered. Her mother nodded and moved off, and for a second Laise felt unsteady. The glass dropped, crystal shards and golden drops bursting from the ground and clinging to her carefully-shaved legs. She took a step back quickly and regained her balance, and in a moment someone had handed her paper towels. It was a shame she couldn't walk about the party with the gold and diamond on her legs, part of her thought with regret as she meticulously picked crystal off of her skin and let the cider vanish into darkening blotches on brown paper.
When she next saw her mother, the woman was ushering Lethya into the room. Laise only glanced at them a moment, then went back to conversing with an upperclassman about a teacher they had in common, which turned into who had started dating who. In the back of her mind Laise kept count of all the secrets she learned.

Lethya regretted wearing her hair down. She also regretted her clothes. And coming to the party. And many, many other things.
“Punch?”
She pushed her hair out of her face and took the cup from Akio, mumbling, “Thanks.”
“No prob,” he said cheerfully as Rye joined them. Lowering his voice, he leaned forward and asked, “Anyone got plans for tonight?”
That brought a smile to Lethya's face, and she straightened a bit, meeting Rye's laughing eyes. She looked just as uncomfortable at the party as Lethya did, and Akio didn't seem to be enjoying himself that much either. “I think I'm free,” Rye said innocently. “Leth?”
“Guess so.” She gave her top a tug, glad that at least her palms didn't sweat too badly. “What're you thinking?”
Later only Lethya's mother would suspect her daughter and two best friends of somehow causing the ceiling to rain confetti, given the giggles she heard from a dark corner. However, the grin on her daughter's face made her merely sigh and tip the janitors generously as she herded the party into another room. Laise looked particularly dismayed as she brushed the paper squares brusquely from her dress, and not thinking to remove those plastered in her hair gel.

Laise waded through knee-deep flour in the empty halls on the last day of eighth grade, cocking an eyebrow at another of her sister's juvenile pranks. How they'd managed it was beyond her, but it was more important not to be associated with this mess. Of course, no one would expect it of her, but no one expected it of Lethya either, and she knew very well where the ideas came from when it came to the Terrific Trio and their clever little tricks. One day their mother would stop turning a blind eye to everything; one day Lethya would go too far, and her mother would finally see how things really were--
Laise stumbled as something jostled her in the side. A gangly boy, white from head to toe, turned as he staggered past, wide gray eyes blinking as he blurted out, “Oh--sorry!” and ran off. He glanced over his shoulder at her before turning the corner, but she missed it, allowing herself to frown at the smear of flour now running down the right side of her shirt and jeans. It was bad enough that she was up to her knees in it, but as she tried to brush it off, it only clouded the air and settled on the rest of her.
“Shit,” Laise spat, then clapped a hand over her mouth and whirled to make sure no one had heard.

Lethya hid a grin as Akio told her mother that the delinquents behind the recent rash of pranks ought to be taken in hand with a face straighter than a line of latitude. Akio had the best poker face of the three of them, even when the only his eyes escaped being bleached out by flour.
Later, they were eating dinner when Laise breezed past, leaving a hint of cold disdain in her wake. She didn't really eat with Lethya anymore, choosing instead to keep the company of the intellectuals, the children of important people, the promising students, and so on. Her twin was not counted among such.
Rye snorted as she passed, pulling at her long curl as was her habit, and talking loudly to Lethya in an attempt to take the chill out of the air. Akio's eyes followed Laise, then slid back to his friends. Rye was still almost yelling about the movie she'd seen, and Lethya was nodding with good-natured disinterest as she picked at her vegetables. She'd taken to just weaving her hair into two simple braids now; with all the time she spent on schoolwork, she had no time to look the way Laise did.
Rye had stopped telling her about the movie; Lethya broke the silence when she asked suddenly, “Should I wear makeup?”
Akio stared at her as if she'd grown another head, and Rye looked as if she'd accidentally eaten one of the loathed vegetables. “What are you talking about?” Akio asked, bewildered.
Her curiosity-inspired gumption deflated just as abruptly as it had appeared, and she went back to scraping her fork across the plate as she muttered, “Never mind.”
“No, really, Leth, what are you talking about?” Rye leaned closer. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing's wrong,” she said too quickly.
No one noticed that Laise was looking their way, and only she knew why.

“Who is he?” Laise asked casually from Lethya's doorway, a month into summer vacation.
Lethya, who'd been blushing as she wrote in her diary, looked up and reddened even further as she attempted to proclaim her ignorance and say vehemently that she didn't like anyone at the same time. The garbled sentence that resulted made little to no sense and accomplished neither of her goals.
“Don't be silly,” Laise said imperiously, electing not to comment on her sister's spectacular failure. “You've been dropping things more than usual and tripping up on a daily basis, and generally around the same time. You're also blushing right now.”
“I could be sick,” her twin muttered mutinously.
“Or you could have watched as many chick flicks as I have and you know very well what's up with you right now.”
“Just forget about it.” Lethya shut her journal with a snap and deposited it in a crowded drawer of her bedside table.
“Don't you trust me?”
At that, Lethya glanced up, and Laise smiled, an eyebrow raised. “Like I'd tell anyone. I might even be able to help.”
Lethya flushed even brighter and mumbled something even more distorted than her first sentence.
“What was that?”
“Akio!” Lethya shouted. “It's Akio, alright? Now leave me alone!”
And to Lethya's astonishment, Laise nodded seriously and left.
Lethya did not know that her sister had been keeping an eye on Akio, observing him, and noting that he showed much more potential than his two friends. Lethya did not know that her sister had been casually dropping a word or two to him, slowly working her way into those he perceived as friends, or at least, allies. And Lethya did not know that Laise had at first only remembered his clear gray eyes.
All she knew was that Laise did not let go that fast, and that meant that something wasn't quite right.

Laise looked at the computer printout with pride. On the practice exams she'd taken, she'd scored less than her usual, but a little studying had cured that. She felt bad for Lethya, who'd been up practically the entire week. Hopefully she'd done well enough; Laise had pulled perfect scores in almost every class.
She handed the grade printout to her mother and got a smile in exchange. “That's my girl.”
Lethya slipped into the room, trying not to attract too much attention to herself and managing quite the opposite. The white paper was crumpled at the top, where fingers dug into palm and paper. Her other hand played with the end of one braid, the other hiding behind her shoulder. Then Lethya held the paper out to her mother, eyes bright.
Their mother scanned the numbers and letters, then looked up with a brilliant smile. “Honey, you did fantastic! You got over ninety in everything! What's wrong?”
Lethya shook her head, wondering how she could explain that all she'd wanted was at least one perfect score.
Her mother nearly crushed her in a hug, telling her daughter how proud she was as Laise left the room, unseen.

Lethya pulled her hair into a ponytail and studied her reflection. She'd borrowed a shirt of Laise's, and wore the necklace Akio had given her on her birthday, and she'd managed to pilfer a few tubes of makeup. It felt strange to have her eyes weighed down in mascara and eye shadow, and her lips glued together in sticky lip gloss, but she thought she looked good. Older. More mature. There was at least a kernel of confidence in that, at least.
She knew where to find Akio--where else but the library?--and her knees trembled as she wound through the halls, softly treading the carpet and taking shaky lungfuls of air that smelled of books. He was always in the corner, reading some enormous volume or other, and in that corner she found him. He glanced up when she approached. “Hey, Lethya. What's up?”
“N-nothin',” she stuttered, and steeled herself. “Just hangin' out.”
“Okay.” Akio's eyes dropped to the book, then back up to her, and he said slowly, “I... wanted to ask you something.”

“Laise?”
She turned to find Lethya's short, dark-haired friend Rye looking up at her. “Yes?”
“Have you seen Leth? She wasn't at dinner yesterday, and she missed second and fifth period.”
Laise blinked at that. Her sister was known to skip a meal or two, but she'd go to classes even on her deathbed. “I had to leave early for my class council meeting today, but I'll check when I get home.”
“Could you tell her to call me if you see her?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks,” Rye said, and walked away.

Laise found her sister asleep in her bed. The pillow had odd-colored stains, and when Lethya raised her groggy head, Laise thought for a second that she'd been attacked. “Lethya, you really ought to wash off makeup before you go to bed,” she chided. “Look, now you'll have to wash your sheets.”
“Go away.” She buried herself under the covers once again.
“Rye wants you to call,” Laise told the bedclothes idly, and walked down the dark hall, then silently doubled back to listen at the door.
“Hey. No, I'm fine. No. Seriously.” Pause. “Nothing.” Another pause. “Look, Rye--no, I didn't get in a fight with anyone--no. I just didn't want to go to school today.” The longest pause yet. “Just drop it, Rye. ...I know you're worried, but--just leave it alone, will you?--No--no--that's not it--no--no--He likes Laise!”
Laise's eyes widened in the shadows.
“Akio doesn't even know. He asked me about her before I could say anything, and a damn good thing I didn't make a moron out of myself, and I didn't want to go to school today, and--and--I gotta go, Rye. I'll talk to you tomorrow.” The phone beeped as she hung up, and the mattress shifted. It sounded as if Lethya had retreated under the covers again.
Laise glided down the hall, mind reeling.

The next time Laise saw Akio, he was with Lethya and Rye, eating dinner. Her sister had developed quite the poker face herself, laughing and smiling as if absolutely nothing was wrong. She'd left the makeup off and put her hair in two braids as usual, one hanging limp, the other curling around to rest near her throat. They were having a good time, probably planning their next prank, but ever so often Lethya would glance elsewhere, and so would Akio, and a slightly pained expression would crack their masks for a split second.
She wasn't going to act on his feelings; Laise had resolved herself to that. Lethya was her sister, and there would be other boys whom her sister did not care about quite so much. He'd be introduced to the right people, the ones who would put his talents to good use, and she'd watch as he climbed the ranks; but there would be no fraternizing with the boy. She owed that, at least, to her sister.
Laise returned half of her mind to the physics discussion at the table; but somehow, she couldn't pry the other half from a reluctant fascination with two gray eyes.

Lethya's Trigonometry instructor regarded her from behind thick glasses and lowered eyelids. “See me after class,” she said ambiguously as she collected homework. “We need to talk about your assignment.”
Lethya swallowed. She'd gotten in trouble before for her homework: not that she neglected to do it, but it was perpetually a knot of impossible-to-decipher scribbles and rough sketches of shapes. One teacher had gone so far as to call one of her products the illegitimate child of a textbook and a garbage disposal.
That was not what the instructor wanted to see her about, though. When the class had emptied, Lethya stood at the desk, surprised her stomach hadn't dragged on the floor on the way up, only to have one of her homework assignments handed to her. She'd been bored with this particular one, and with the extra time on her hands, had done extra work, scribbling out notions and thoughts on the side, only to discover she had done so on her homework and not her notes two minutes before class began.
“Did you copy that from the book?” the woman asked, her eyes owl-like behind her lenses.
Lethya shook her head. “No--I--I just was--bored, but I thought I was writing in my notes--”
“You're not in trouble,” the instructor dryly informed her. “You just thought of this on your own?” Her student nodded. “I see. Lethya, this is highly sophisticated--albeit a bit sloppy--work. If your mother gives her permission, I want you to take an accelerated mathematics course for the remainder of the year.” She opened a drawer and removed a piece of paper. “Bring this back with your mother's signature, and we'll get started.”
Lethya studied the paper as she walked out the door, brow furrowed. Was this a good idea? Taking an accelerated course--wouldn't that put her in a math class above her grade next year?
She was actually good at something. From what her teacher seemed to be implying, in fact, she was very good at something. But she'd never tested as well as Laise--
Maybe it isn't about the tests, then.
If she didn't do well on tests, but her teacher thought she should be in an advanced class--
Laise is the one who's good at everything. I'm the one who isn't good enough.
But Laise hadn't been asked to go into an advanced math class.
What does this make me? The paper in her hand shook, her feet automatically taking her out the doors of the school and towards home. Now what am I?

“Just bring the notes back when you're done.” Laise pushed herself away from the wall. “ Oh, and Mama wants us to be at the ballroom by seven on Saturday.”
Lethya rubbed her head, tapping her pencil against a notebook. “Another party?”
About to nod, Laise's eyes strayed to the trash bin and caught on the word ‘advanced.' She fished the paper out and scanned it as Lethya began to protest, her complaints falling on deaf ears. “Where'd you get this?”
“My math teacher,” she said darkly. “Just--put it back, will you?”
“Are you kidding? An advanced class? That's great, Lethya! Does Mama know yet?”
There was a snap as the tip of the pencil broke off and Lethya said stiffly, “It'd be a bunch of work.”
“The teacher wouldn't recommend you unless she thought you were ready,” Laise returned.
“I don't want to do it.”
“Why the heck not?”
“You wouldn't get it,” Lethya said hotly. “Just put it back in the trash already!”
Startled at her twin's outburst, Laise dropped it in the bin, made her excuses, and left, wondering what had gotten into her.
The next morning, she pulled it out once more, and that night, she took it to their mother.

The party was typical: lights, music, refreshments, banal chatter, making and breaking social ties--the usual. Lethya felt better than usual, having been kidnapped by Laise in order to get her properly dressed this time around. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek knot, a dark blue dress emphasizing her eyes for once. Though she still took to the shadows, she at least felt more mysterious about it, as if she were studying fish in a tank instead of hiding under a rock. Laise was in the center as per usual, with her crowd of successful people, Akio on the fringe. She'd put her hair down for once, and it fell in a waterfall of white gold around her face.
Rye stood next to her, and with a sigh, she announced: “I think we have lost him entirely.”
“He's obsessed with her,” Lethya said flatly. “But I don't think she likes him, so he'll just have to get over himself.”
There was an awkward pause, and then Rye said, “I'm sorry, Leth.”
She didn't have to ask what Rye meant by that. Instead, she tugged at the strap of her dress and suggested that they raid the refreshments.

“Akio, this is Ericks Mildron.” Laise let the two boys size one another up, knowing they would get along immensely. “You both seem uncommonly interested in physics, so I thought you could explain to me what all happened in yesterday's class...” Connection established; this upperclassman was Akio's ticket to impressing future professors and actually getting somewhere. Satisfied, she followed the conversation with half an ear and scanned the room, in search of her twin.
Just then the click of speakers came on and her mother's voice rang out over the ballroom. “Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to make a brief announcement.” Laise's eyes turned towards the stage, where her mother stood, and she cocked her head, wondering what was going on. “My daughter Lethya just got invited into a special accelerated math program, and her teacher says she has one of the brightest minds she's ever seen. I would like to congratulate her tonight--Lethya, come on up here!”
Her stunned twin was walking past, dazed but grinning shakily. She made it up the stairs to the stage, and took the bouquet from her mother, and she smiled as people applauded her. Laise clapped just as enthusiastically while her mind said poisonously, That should be me up there.
No, everyone knew about her achievements.
Then why hasn't your mother ever pulled you up onstage for, say, getting perfect test scores? Or being elected class president? Or the advanced programs you've been asked to? Or how about how the major universities are offering to pay out the nose for you? Does everyone know about your achievements? Because it sure seems like your mother's missing a page or two in that department.
That was nonsense. Utter nonsense. Her was probably going to say something in a minute or two, and then she'd walk up to the stage and--
No, Mama and Lethya were stepping down, and everyone was watching them--
All I want is for Mama to let me know I've done good. That's all I want.
They walked past, Lethya's honest smile now attracting more attention than it ever had before, and some of Laise's crowd went to go talk to Lethya.
“Turnabout's fair play.”
Laise whirled to find Lethya's short friend Rye watching her. But Rye had been friends with both her and Lethya, once upon a time. “What?”
“Turnabout's fair play,” she repeated sardonically, stretching out a curl. “It also happens to be a bitch.”
“I don't know what you mean.” The chill was almost tangible in Laise's voice.
Rye's sharp green eyes flicked to Lethya and those who surrounded her, and then back to Laise, dark hair almost cutting into her finger as she pulled the ringlet taut. “Welcome to your twin's world, Laise.”
The breath caught in her chest, and suddenly she was walking towards the doors to the garden--she stumbled once or twice--then she was outdoors, cold air washing over her skin, air she struggled to inhale, walking to who knew where. It was too much for one night--
“Laise!” She knew that voice.
“Not now, Akio.” To her astonishment, her voice was ragged.
The gravel crunched beneath his shoes as he jogged a step or two to plant himself in front of her. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” she snapped. “Just leave me alone.”
“Look at me--”
“No.”
“Laise--”
“No--”
She knew what he was offering, and only the thought of what it would do to Lethya held her back.
Only he came after you, though, a voice whispered. She took your friends. Mama doesn't even remember you exist sometimes--
I promised. Not to her, to myself.
But look who's taking the fall for it now. You made her what she is tonight, and she steals your role! Is that even fair?
“Please look at me, Laise,” Akio said softly.
Come on, it's just like another exam--you know the answer to this, Laise--
For the first time, Laise failed.

“I think she went out for some fresh air or something.”
“Yeah, she went to the garden.”
“Thanks!” Lethya walked over to the tall glass doors and pushed one open. Only Laise had seen the sheet--she had to have given it to their mother--she owed her twin many things for this, and the first on her list was a very big ‘thank you.'
She avoided the gravel, sure a pebble would get into her shoes, and instead walked quietly on the thin strip of grass edging the path, looking around for her sister.
Lethya found her just out of sight of the ballroom. After a moment, she swallowed, and returned to the party just as quietly as she'd left, a careful mask slipping into place as she walked back inside.

“Hey, congrats.”
Lethya looked up at Laise and nodded, smiling faintly.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” Lethya said, her voice hoarse. “Just... tired, I guess.”
“Me too.” Laise never looked better, her eyes sparkling and an irrepressible smile fighting for control of her face. “See you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Lethya closed her eyes, then opened them and stared at the ceiling, wondering how long they could stay dry.

“You look different.”
Rye looked up and tugged at a strand of hair. “Cut it,” she said simply.
“It looks good that way,” Akio told her. “Hey, you seen Leth--”
“Akio!” Laise rounded the corner of the hall. “You want to see a movie tonight?”
“Sure. ...I--I'll talk to you later, Rye.”
Rye glanced over her shoulder. Lethya emerged from the classroom the second the couple was out of sight. “Are you sure you're okay with all this, Leth?” she asked skeptically.
“Yes,” Lethya lied firmly. Rye didn't say anything, but her eyes seemed to suggest that avoiding both Laise and Akio meant she was everything but okay with it. “I know, I know. I just--I guess you wouldn't understand.”
“What don't I understand?”
“She always wins,” Lethya said simply.
“And?”
Once again, Lethya lied. “And I'm totally fine with that.”