“Maybe.” The look on Alice’s face matched Libby’s bafflement. “Or not. She was always nicer to you. Less mean girl and more selfless. And when you met her, you were ready for a change from me.”
“Alice!”
Her twin gave her a long and unflinching stare. “Come on, be honest. We’d started high school and you’d gone through puberty but Mom was still insisting we do everything together as if we were ten. Looking back, I’m not sure that was a good idea. I was trying so hard to keep up with you even though I never could and you felt I was holding you back. You were ready for some excitement and Jess had that in spades. I think you had a girl crush.”
Libby squirmed at the accurate tag, and again questioned her maturity. “But surely if it was a crush, I’d have grown out of it?”
“I dunno. Friendship’s really complicated. And I think she had a crush on you too. She got me out of the way pretty fast so she could have you to herself.”
Libby thought back to those few months when they were fourteen and Alice had retreated into herself. How her parents had looked worn and gray with worry. How she’d been so caught up with her new friendship with Jess, she’d spent little time with her twin. Old guilt stabbed her.
“Was our friendship why you stopped going to school?”
Alice thought about it. “If you’d asked me back then I’d have said yes to make you feel bad. But it’s never one thing, Libs, you know that. It was the culmination of years of wanting to be you instead of me. I was sick of being the dorky twin, the slow twin, the one who wore glasses, couldn’t run far and got picked last for T-ball. I’d worked so hard trying to be like you and I was still different and sick of it. Chuck in puberty hormones and, kaboom! Chaos.”
“God, Al, I’m sorry.”
“None of it’s your fault.”
“You sure?”
“Well …” Alice grinned. “I’m sure you owe me something for stealing all my food in the womb.”
Libby wanted to laugh and enjoy her twin’s forgiveness, but instead she felt the sting of tears. “I’m sorry for being selfish and thoughtless. I don’t deserve you, but I’m so thankful you’re here now. I couldn’t get through this without you.” She hugged Alice and took an almighty sniff, trying to head off a messy cry. “I’m sick of me and I’m sure you’re sick of me too. Let’s talk about you. How are things with Tim?”
Alice stood and turned the cardboard clock on the door to two o’clock. “Let’s go for a walk along the beach.”
“Okay, but you’re still going to tell me about Tim, right?”
“Just Tim?” Alice jogged toward the bridge and crossed the inlet.
Libby ran to catch up, realizing how badly out of shape she was after not having exercised for weeks. Panting, she caught Alice just as she got to the beach. “There’s someone else? What happened to Tim?”
Alice twirled on the hard sand, arms out wide and scattering seagulls, just like she’d done as a kid. “He vanished without a word. Then there was Finn, but I realized he was full of back-handed compliments …”
For years, Libby had smugly congratulated herself for being able to recognize the qualities that constituted a good man—someone who loved, respected and supported her—and she’d never accepted anything less. Alice, on the other hand, always seemed to give away a part of herself in every romantic relationship. Libby no longer felt smug—more chastened, humbled and embarrassed by the supercilious advice she’d dished out to her twin.
“Back-handed compliments sound like Lawrence.”
Alice grimaced at the mention of her ex. “Sadly, yes, but I’m learning. This time I recognized it so much earlier and I ditched him before we even met.”
“Good for you!”
“And I’ve stopped paying to meet men who don’t come close to being ideal. I’ve joined Bumble and Tinder.”
“The swiping apps?”
“Well, two of them, anyway. There are heaps out there, Libs. I’m currently in conversation with Kurt, Lachlan, Spencer, Luca and Ben, and I’m meeting Todd and Andrew for coffee on the weekend. And you’ll be proud of me.” Alice winked. “I have it all color coded on Google Calendar.”
Libby laughed. “You either take ages to decide something or you jump right in.”
“Oh, and I’m also having sex with Dan van den Berg. But twin blood promise, you can’t tell anyone and that includes Mom and Dad.”
“Oh my God!” Libby stared at her, openmouthed. “You and Dan the man? Alice, you know he’s more likely to give you an STD than a marriage proposal. Not that I’m recommending marriage at the moment, but he’s not even a medium-term proposition.”
Alice’s head tilted and she pursed her lips. “Give me some credit. It’s the off- season in a small town so we’ve struck a deal, including all the healthy precautions. Sex and fun until one of us meets someone.”
Libby was trying to wrap her head around this information. “I—um—you … Is it fun?”
“So much fun! And believe me, Dan knows what he’s doing. It’s pretty good.”
A complicated feeling that lurched between happiness for Alice and envy for herself unsettled Libby. “Only pretty good?”
Alice’s cheeks pinked. “The thing is, I’ve been a bit um, tender down there.”
“It sounds like too much sex or not enough foreplay.”
“No, it’s neither of those things. Like I said, Dan knows what he’s doing and we usually only get together once a week, occasionally twice. We’re using condoms and plenty of lube but … I dunno, I can’t explain it.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re not a couple and there’s no future in it. Your body’s telling you that.”
Alice’s brows shot up. “I can’t believe the scientist just said that. Lust is lust and me and my body definitely enjoy most of it.”
“Sorry. What I mean
