Chapter 4: Twinners!!!

I shuddered in disbelief. As a child, Abigail had organized anti smoking campaigns to raise awareness of the danger of smoking. And now she was not only partaking, but participating willingly with some degree of enthusiasm. Most of me was consumed with worry for the safety of my child. But a small part of me experienced something else- a new and strange feeling I’d never had before. I checked her diary daily- sometimes multiple times a day hoping for any kind of update. Then one day, the new entry appeared.

Entry 4

Oct 22, 2023

Dear Diary,

I needed to clear my mind of everything that had just happened. This was not me. I do not smoke. I do not hang out with delinquents, bimbos, and right wing trolls. I do not lust after cruel, fetid lowlifes and I certainly don’t think about said lowlifes while making love to my boyfriend or intermittently throughout the week while touching myself.

I threw myself into my work like never before. I doubled my volunteer shifts at the homeless shelter, and added additional shifts working with children, animals, and people with mental disabilities.

I asked Ashley if I could help more with the Young Democrats and volunteering for Planned Parenthood.

“Abigail, in my capacity as head of Young Democrats, I would say a million times yes!! But as your best friend, I have to tell you the truth- you need a break! You are burning yourself out when you need the most energy!”

“I-I am?” I stammered.

“You are. Let’s have some girl time- just you and me, like when we were kids,”

I remembered all of the endless summer afternoons we would spend playing dolls, pretend games, making up stories and imagining our futures careers and partners. In many ways, we were right on track to make those dreams a reality.

We went to our favorite used book store at the mall, where I bought some Jane Austen novels I hadn’t read yet. I also updated my poetry collection with some Whitman. We went clothes shopping as well, and I bought a beautiful dress for my next cello recital and some elegant tops to wear to school. Ashley bought some in a style so similar that we looked like twins!

It was exactly what I needed. I felt like my old self returning again. We finished up by sharing ice cream cones together, just like we did when we were little.

“So ... how’s William?” she asked.

I sighed and looked back at her dreamily.

“He is literally my dream man. He is so good at anticipating my needs, that he often knows what I want before I do.” I gushed.

“Wow!! He’s making all the other guys look bad. I mean my Henry is attentive- but not THAT attentive!” She chuckled, shaking her head.

“Well at least Henry doesn’t have an abusive family that harasses you.” I said, rolling my eyes.

“True. I’m so so sorry that you both have to deal with that. But look at it this way, if you can just make it through the rest of the school year, once you guys move out you’ll never have to see that man again,” she encouraged.

I nodded half heartedly. “Yeah, that would be amazing.”

We spent the next two hours talking about everything under the sun, from our stresses about college applications to our favorite new books to political strategizing and theorizing around the Biden/Trump rematch.

We were really more like sisters- twins even, in some respects.

“Ashley, I don’t know what I would do without you. This week I felt like I was losing myself, but being here with you today is really grounding me,” I told her.

“Abigail, you’ve been grounding me my whole life. I’m just glad to be able to return the favor once in awhile,” she said sweetly.

“I love you Ashley,” I replied, choking back tears.

“I love you too,” she replied, and we embraced before parting ways. Aside from William, she might be my favorite person in the world!

As I walked out of the food court, I walked right past a bunch of fellow teens smoking. Usually I would walk through quickly to avoid getting even a whiff of smoke, but today I lingered a little longer. I remembered last week with Johnny, Trevor, and even Candace. How relaxed I felt, how much I’d laughed, how warm I felt inside. It felt like forever since I’d experienced those things, if I ever did at all.

I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Abby??”

At first I didn’t look, since almost no one calls me that. Then I knew immediately who it was.

“Hi Candace,” I greeted her awkwardly.

“You can call me Candy,” she said. She was dressed like a literal prostitute, with more lacy undergarments visible than the outer clothing ostensibly covering them. By contrast, I wore casual jeans and my (aspirational) Harvard sweatshirt.

“Sure Candy. And you can call me Abigail,” I replied, somewhat saltily.

“Really, I think Abby fits you much better” she said, taking a drag on her cigarette. I felt the second hand smoke envelop and expand me, just as it did when I was smoking myself. Unconsciously, I slowly breathed it in.

“Smoke?” she offered, taking a cigarette from her pack. I looked at it with a mixture of disgust and longing, remembering how open and alive I felt last week.

My decorum rescued me. What would people think if they saw me smoking with the sluttiest girl at school?

“I’m sorry, I can’t. That was a one time thing,” I said, turning her down.

“I’m not good at math, but I think it’s been two times. Plus, Frankie loved seeing that picture of you smoking.”

I felt the mysterious but pleasurable sensation overtake me again.

“How do you know what he likes?” I inquired, feigning nonchalance.

“He tells me all the time. If only she dressed hotter ... If only she partied more..., If only she posted hot pics on Instagram ... If only she put those stupid books down and had some fun,”

I had to admit, my studying and volunteer work had been out of control this week- even by my standards. It was like I was running from something, but I didn’t know what.

“Maybe I have been a little single minded lately,” I conceded.

“You do nothing but study all the time. You’re soo boooring,” she said, exhaling her smoke directly in my face.

And you’re a dumb ho, I thought to myself, as I felt my blood starting to boil. I pushed it down. There was no reason for me to dislike her. She was actually being nice to me in her way. There was certainly no reason to be competitive with her.

“I might overdo it sometimes but I don’t think there’s anything boring about...”

She interrupted, “What you need is a serious makeover!! With some new makeup, some clothes from this century, and some hot shoes Frank is gonna start noticing you for sure.”

I felt myself perk up, then push away the thought just as quickly.

“I don’t WANT Frank to notice me! He’s nasty!!”

She laughed, “You don’t have to pretend with me, honey. It’s just us girls. Besides, I’m sure that nerd boyfriend of yours will like it too.”

She really shouldn’t talk about William like that. He might be a little dorky, but he is so sweet. And he is the love of my life. I’m sure he’d like to see a hotter version of me.

“Ok fine, we can go shopping together, but nothing over the top,” I allowed.

“Yayyy” she squealed, and hugged me, her barely concealed breasts pushing into my face.

With surprising alacrity, we zipped off to our first location- the salon. Candace seemed to know the whole staff.

“What we doin’ today Candy?” said a punkish looking girl with short purple hair and a nose ring.

“Actually, today it’s for Abby. She’s in desperate need,” Candace replied.

The punky girl looked me up and down.

“What were you thinking hun?”

“I-I I’m not really sure,” I mumbled, shyly.

Candace interrupted.

“She wants to look hot for some guy,”

I cringed. That went against just about all of my beliefs as a feminist. Of course I wanted to embrace my beauty and femininity. But it was for me, not “some guy”.

“Got it. It’s a shame. I was hoping she went the other way,” replied the stylist, whose name tag said ‘Becky’.

I blushed. My stylist was a lesbian. As a liberal, I certainly championed the cause of equal rights. As a heterosexual woman, it was just not something I thought about for myself before.

“Sorry, I...”

“Don’t worry, Abby. Frank loves seeing girls fooling around with each other. It’s actually a big turn on for him” Candace reassured.

“That’s not what I...”

“No worries, sweetie. Whenever you’re ready. What kind of look would drive this guy wild?” Becky interjected.

Again, Candace answered for me,

“He’s got a thing for blondes.”

I sulked. I always loved my long brown hair. I’d been told on multiple occasions that I bore a striking resemblance to a young Anne Hathaway.

“No way! I love my hair color! I don’t want to change it!!” I protested.

“Suit yourself. I’m just telling you what he likes,” Candace shrugged.

I sighed. There had to be some kind of compromise.

“Ok- maybe I can get a few blond highlights?”