Every Girl I've Loved A Lifetime Ago

"Crystal", Part 2

It was the second to last day of school when I saw a ghost.
Her younger sister was graduating, just like my eldest sister, and we ran into each other in the halls.
She was trying to find the bathroom and I needed a break from my overbearing twin.
We took one hard look at each other and realized we were not the same age.
But her beach waves, coconut oil soft skin, and plump, rounded chest were enticing and all-consuming and too much to resist.
On her name tag, all those months ago, Crystal has been written down in curvy, fancy letters.
She insisted it was fake, requested in an angelic whisper to call her Elle.
I liked Crystal better, but I didn't say.
Elle's back was against a mirror, her bottom on a faucet, her legs wrapped around a sink. It looked uncomfortable, but she didn't complain.
The pale skin of her neck was littered with bruises by the time we both joined our families again, and her long, hot pink nails left wide, light scratches on my back.