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“You sure you want to wear that to school?” I asked Selene. Her top was bright pink, and way too tight, skirt was a micro mini, and her boots, well let’s just say I’ve seen more than a few pair on women, in movies, who were “professionals.” She turned sideways and looked at herself in the mirror, her long blonde hair fell past her shoulders and cascaded down her back. She definitely appreciated her reflection. She looked at me, blue eyes squinted.
“Of course I do, Melanie, you don’t get a second first impression” she sneered back.

“I guess you’re right, I mean who wouldn’t want a first impression that said ‘Ooooo she’s a slut!’ Oh, that’s right. ME!” I rolled my eyes at her, just because I knew she hated it.

“You’re just.. Just… I don’t even know what you are, but you are.” She wasn’t great with comebacks.

“You’re right, I am.” I know it sounds mean, but we really do love each other. It’s just deep down that we do, way, way deep down.

Selene and I are twins. We’re identical apart from style and personality. We were both in the bathroom getting ready for the first day of our sophomore year in highschool. In my opinion my outfit was much better, jeans that fit just right (which means of course that my butt looked amazing) and a light purple tee, that hung close but didn’t try to force my boobs out the top like Selene’s did. I looked at my reflection with approval. I was thin, but not too thin, and my hair was shorter, it fell just to my shoulders. I did one last touch of mascara and turned and headed out of the bathroom, flipping the light off as I left.

“Hey!”

You’re right, I did that just because she hates that too.

“Oh, sorry!” I mocked. I hit the light switch again so she could finish doing whatever it was she was doing.

I ran down the stairs to get some breakfast. Our little brother Mikey was already raiding the cabinets for his favorite cereal.

“Hey booger, what’s for breakfast?”

“Lucky Chawms. You should know that by now.” Poor kid, still has a speech thing. Today is his first day of first grade. He‘s 6. Selene and I are 15. I am convinced he was an accident, but my Mom says otherwise.

“Oh that’s right. Can I get some Charms too?”

He poured me a bowl, only spilling about 15 charms onto the table.

“Don’t wowwy, I’ll get those!” And he started eating them right off the table like a puppy. I patted his head and said ‘good boy.‘ He laughed.

“You know Mel, you look exactly like me but don’t have guys after you. How do you do it?” Selene made her grand entrance how she always does, tripping on the last step and an insult coming out of her mouth.

“Selene, honey, do you really think you are dressed appropriately for school? I think your teachers may say something. At least go put on a longer skirt.” That’s mom, she’s so understanding of our “freedom to express ourselves” as she calls it.

“Yeah Sel, at least one that covers your a…”
“Mel.” That’s all mom has to say. She knows I won’t finish that sentence in front of Mikey.

“Ugh, you are so unfair Mom! I don’t see why anyone should be able to tell me what I can and can’t wear anyways!” and with that, she stomped off.