But it wasn’t Jess’s sense of style that impressed Libby the most, it was the fact she was her own person. She refused to accept a hard time from anyone and she didn’t conform or care what the other girls thought of her—she walked her own path. Jess’s “I don’t give a damn” attitude was intoxicating. It was a freedom Libby had never experienced. She’d been raised to always consider how her actions might affect others, especially her twin. But recently, she’d had intense moments when she wanted to scream and break free. Do what she wanted without having to worry about anyone else’s feelings.
To be a separate person from Alice.
Libby had made the first friendship move, inviting Jess to Pelican House. After the successful first visit, she’d expected a return invitation, but Jess had continued walking home with the twins and whenever Libby hinted that they go to Jess’s house, her new friend ignored her. This frustrated Libby, because she wanted alone time with Jess and that was impossible at Pelican House. Eventually Libby took the situation into her own hands. Telling her mother she was visiting the van den Bergs, she bicycled to where she thought Jess lived—her friend had been vague about her exact address. At first, she thought she must have the wrong house—weeds dominated the few scraggly plants, the car in the driveway looked like an old clunker and the paint on the clapboards was peeling off in strips—but the other houses in the street didn’t look much different. Libby knocked hesitantly and relaxed the moment Jess answered the door.
“Hi!”
Jess scowled from around the barely open door. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought we could hang out. You know, just us.”
“I didn’t think you went anywhere without your shadow.”
The need to be her own woman rose above Libby’s guilt about leaving Alice behind. “We don’t do everything together.”
Jess didn’t look like she believed her so Libby added, “I do surf lifesaving. Alice doesn’t.”
“Does she do anything except watch you do stuff?”
“Not really.”
“Your twin’s kind of a baby.”
Although Jess had just articulated exactly what Libby thought, the need to defend her twin was instinctive. “It’s not her fault she’s immature. She was sick when we were little.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
Libby hesitated and then gave in to the nub of the problem. “Alice does everything slower than me. She doesn’t have her period yet.”
“Or boobs. Does she even notice guys?”
Libby sighed. “No.”
“Lucky for you, I came to town.” But Jess still hadn’t opened the door any wider.
Libby smiled. “So can I come in? I brought double chocolate Tim Tams.”
Jess snorted. “Of course you did.” But she accepted the packet and finally let Libby in, hustling her down a narrow hall lined with cardboard boxes. Libby glanced sideways into rooms, glimpsing a television balanced precariously on old wooden fish co-op boxes, cereal bowls from breakfast still on the kitchen table along with white bags from the drug store and a bottle of rum. Where were the cut flowers? The lace tablecloth? The computer in its dedicated corner? The books? The aroma of dinner cooking? Nothing about this house said home. Before Libby could think of a compliment—Karen had taught her to always say something nice—Jess pushed her into a room and slammed the door.
Jess’s bedroom was as neat and tidy as the rest of the house was cluttered. Posters of Pink and Justin Timberlake were blu-tacked on the walls and there was a stack of Seventeen and Cosmopolitan magazines by her bed. This stack impressed Libby the most—it was the equivalent of finding a Bardot CD at the thrift shop. Karen had rejected her recent request to read Seventeen, telling her she needed to be fifteen. Libby hadn’t dared ask how old she needed to be to read Cosmopolitan. While Jess curled up on her bed painting her nails black, Libby devoured every copy of Seventeen before moving on to the far more daring Cosmo.
If she’d flashed hot and cold thinking about her crush while she read “seventy-eight ways to turn him on,” it was the “hotter sex for you” that sent her home determined to find something called her clitoris. Before that fateful afternoon, she hadn’t known she had one. It was like stepping into a whole new world and she thanked the universe for introducing her to Jess.
The magazines and other forbidden things in Jess’s room were the first secrets Libby kept from Alice. Her twin wouldn’t understand—she was still drawing butterflies and fairies in her sketch book and watching Saddle Club when Libby railed to watch Big Brother and E.R. While Alice was content to stay a little girl, Libby wanted to date boys and experiment with the divine rush of feelings she got playing with herself in the bath.
When Libby asked her parents for her own bedroom, Alice cried. Libby didn’t feel as bad as she should have for upsetting her twin.
Jess and Libby became inseparable. Although Karen acknowledged Libby’s right to have her own friend, she frequently insisted Alice tag along. It hadn’t worked particularly well when they were thirteen and by the time they were seventeen, it was a disaster. Alice always gave off a critical vibe that made Libby feel as if it was her
