Twice The Trouble

Bonus Chapter: How It Started

Stacy

FOURTEEN MONTHS AGO...

April 9, 2016. It was a typical Saturday afternoon in the Philippines.

Hot. Sunny. Blazing heat outside. There sky was a clear azure,the color of a robin's egg. But the sun was merciless, a big ball of fire shooting multiple beams of scorching light on everything it could touch.

Through the window of our bedroom, I could see that out on the front porch, wearing nothing but board shorts, were my two male cousins and their friends, all in their early twenties, lounging on chairs, drinking cold sodas and beers, pretending to be on a beach while cracking bad jokes about the unforgiving weather.

I faintly overheard Bro Mack comment on the pavements being hot enough to fry ham and eggs.

"Ace..." Sophia groaned as she tossed and turned in her olive-green blankets.

I tossed her a brief frown over my shoulder across the half-pink, half-emerald bedroom, which was bathed in cold air, thanks to the efficient AC, God Bless its soul.

Do machines have souls?

Before I could wonder aloud, I clamped my mouth shut. If I asked my twin that question, she would rave about movies related to cars and haunted vehicles and robots. Thanks, but no thanks.

Shifting in my seat, I turned my back on my vanity mirror to gaze at my 17-year-old sister in her green-coated bed. Aside from taking a shower and eating breakfast and lunch, she had lazily slipped into an extra large gray sweatshirt and sweatpants before diving into the thick covers of her bed, wasting the day away like a bum.

"What?" I asked, keeping tabs on her while I combed my long blonde hair using a pink comb.

Sophia had a tendency to roll left and right until she fell to the ground. Painfully.

My brown-haired sister wiggled into a starfish position, her brown eyes on the ceiling.

"I miss Dale," she said, a lonely sigh blowing from her pink lips.

I gritted my teeth. I hate it when she's like this, pining and mooning over that asshole. It's been two years but she still harbored romantic feelings for him. My twin deserves more than a moron like Dale Cruz. Good riddance to him.

"You vowed never to say his name again, Sop," I reminded her in a breezy tone, not wanting to antagonize her further.

Another sigh. "I know. It's just.. hard.." she paused. "...I don't know how to move on.."

I swiveled in my pink chair and looked into my vanity mirror, assessing my reflection for a split second: Sky blue eyes, full pink lips, and perfect nose on a heart-shaped face, framed by golden, luscious tresses streaming past my shoulders.

How was it possible to be so utterly gorgeous without plastic surgery?

"I told you over and over again, Sop," I called out to her while I applied apple-flavored lip gloss on my plump lips.

I continued to speak with my mouth agape as I slicked on some gloss over my upper lip, then on my lower lip: "Date someone so you can forget him completely. I seriously don't get why you're holding back from the dating game. You're smart and pretty. Anyone would be lucky to date you."

"Then why did Dale reject me?" she wailed, the teenage angst evident in her voice.

That's it. I couldn't keep my trap shut any longer. "Because he's stupid," I fumed, angrily clapping the lid on my tube of lip gloss. "He was too blind to see how kind and bright you were."