The Leftover Twin

It takes a specific kind of talent to fade into the background when you share identical DNA with the town’s newest obsession.

Isabella and I were twins, but the universe spent all its creative energy on her. Bella got our mother, Renee’s, suffocating codependency and the fragile beauty that made people want to carry her books. I got the leftovers. I was plain and thoroughly ordinary. Or so everyone thought.

Being forgotten meant peace. It meant sharing a silent breakfast with our dad, Charlie, at five in the morning while Bella slept in. Charlie didn’t look at me like I was a fragile glass doll. He looked at me like a partner.

“Are you ready for this, Lottie?” he asked quietly.

“Always, Dad,” I replied, tying my hair back.

The peace ended in Charlie’s orange Chevy truck. I pressed against the passenger door to leave room for the main event. Next to me, Bella was doing what she did best: sighing. It was a tragic sound, heavy with the martyrdom of a girl forced to live in a town that rained.

“You alright, Bells?” Charlie asked anxiously.

“I’m fine, Dad,” Bella murmured, staring out the window like an indie film heroine. She bit her lip, begging for attention. I quietly adjusted my baggy hand-me-down jacket. Charlie caught my eye in the mirror and offered a tired smile. I smiled back. I didn’t need to sigh to get his attention.

At Forks High School, the reality of our dynamic smacked me in the face.

“Oh my god, you’re the Swan twins!” a bubbly girl with a camera cried.

“I’m Eric,” a boy chimed in, cutting entirely in front of me to hand Bella a map. “If you need a friend, I’m your guy.”

Bella flushed, ducking her head modestly. I stood a step behind her, hands shoved deep into my pockets. No one offered me a map. I was just the shadow attached to Isabella’s heels.

By lunchtime, I was hiding inside my clothes. Catching my reflection in a trophy case, I grimaced. I looked like a walking pile of laundry in a giant flannel and a baggy grey hoodie. Renee had insisted I pack it. “It suits you, Lottie,” she’d lied.

I knew the real reason. Back in Phoenix, I had started filling out. I actually had a great body and a toned waist. But the one time I wore a fitted shirt, a boy looked at me instead of Bella. Bella pouted for a week, and Renee immediately banned flattering clothes for me. Heaven forbid the boring twin outshine the fragile princess.

I followed Bella into the loud cafeteria. Jessica Stanley waved us over to a crowded table. Bella slid into a seat as boys crowded around her like moths to a flame. I took the empty seat at the very edge, invisible again.

Suddenly, the chatter in the room dropped by fifty decibels. Five people walked in, and I almost choked on my pizza.

They looked like they had just stepped off a Paris fashion runway. They were devastatingly beautiful, with snow-pale skin and dark shadows under their eyes.

“Who are they?” Bella whispered, staring intensely at the bronze-haired boy.

“That’s the Cullens,” Jessica whispered back, eager to gossip. “The blonde girl is Rosalie, and the big guy is Emmett. The short dark-haired girl is Alice, and she’s with Jasper, the blonde one who looks like he’s in constant pain.”

I looked at Jasper. He genuinely looked like he had just swallowed a lemon.

“And the bronze-haired one?” Bella asked, her voice trembling.

“Edward,” Jessica scoffed. “Don’t waste your time. He doesn’t date.”

I watched them walk in a slow-motion V-formation like dramatic vampires from a TV show. I bit my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

But just as I was making fun of them in my head, Jasper stopped walking.

His head snapped up. His intense, golden-brown eyes swept across the room, bypassing Jessica, the boys, and Bella completely.

His gaze locked directly onto me.