The end of August has come and with it the end of freedom. The heat is nigh unbearable, the sun beating down on our heads as Dad lugs the last of the suitcases up to the curb in front of the dorm. Dad and I have already dragged most of Sara and I's things up to our little room, so I take a moment to wipe the sweat from my brow and contemplate my miserable situation. Eighteen years old, my senior year, and I'm back in this hell-hole.
Back to Mark, and all my supposed friends. Mom couldn't stop chattering about how much I must be looking forward to seeing all my friends. They're just comrades in misery. People I would never talk to if we weren't all stuck in this prison together. And why? So our parents can be unshackled from the inconveniences of children for three quarters of the year.
And this year, joy of joys, Sara is joining me. It's like they read my mind and found the one thing that would make time here even less bearable. Babysitting the miscreant and keeping her out of trouble. If she hadn't managed to get kicked out of nearly every other boarding school on the continent they probably wouldn't have resorted to this. I don't even want to know what she did this time.
I glance back at her, leaning in the shade of the entrance's archway. Even in this heat she seems totally unflappable, as though something like ambient temperature is too far beneath her to bother noticing. She knows I'm glaring at her as I pick up my last duffel, swinging it back over my shoulder, but she keeps gazing out past the parking lot at the wall and the trees beyond, a light breeze just barely enough to cause a sway in her long, dark hair.
We head past her, back up into the stuffy dormitory and she gives Dad a faint smile as he passes, carrying one of her bags in each hand. To most it would be a shy, thankful smile. I know better though. I can see the cool disdain behind her eyes when she looks at him. I can see her contempt for Mom as well. These are the only things that unite us, a mutual hatred for our parents. It's sad really. But I doubt she sees it that way.
As soon as everything is vaguely in place and it's hugs and kisses, love you but we have to go, we'll send a Christmas card and all that, we can't miss our plane. The hustle and bustle of other families moving their unfortunates in is muted to almost nil when Sara shuts the door, and we're alone. Just the two of us, staring across our small room at one another as though sizing up a competitor before a prize fight.
"Well... it's just the two of us then."
Her voice is cool as ever, her face impassive as a small drop of sweat creeps its way down the contours of her neck to the hollow of her throat. I give her a half smile, I'm sure she can pick up how happy I am to have her at the same school, much less sharing a room with me.
"Yeah, us girls left with no one but each other. Just keep your nose clean, I don't want to have to explain to Mom and Dad why you got kicked out, despite my `supervision'."
She smiles her own little smile, a gleam showing in her eyes that I definitely don't like.
"That's what it all comes down to really, isn't it? You don't want to get yelled at by Mommy and Daddy because you couldn't control me? Don't worry your pretty little head sis. I only get caught when I want to. Keep me amused and you won't have to worry about me wanting to leave."
She smirks and turns, beginning to unpack. God why can't they get the air conditioning to work? I set in to my suitcases as well, a nervous feeling settling in my stomach and refusing to be quelled.
* * *
The first couple of weeks pass quickly, getting reacquainted with the girls, settling in, starting class. Honestly it's not as bad as I expected. Sara spends a good amount of time out, usually in the library, and I get left to do as I like. The heat, however, has not let up one bit. Every day it climbs over 100 degrees and we're lucky if it gets into the high 80s at night. And that's outside. We lay in our little beds, Sara on the bunk above me, wearing as little as possible and sweating until our sheets are damp. It must be hell up on the fourth floor. Thank god for small favors I guess.
There's also getting to know Mark once again. I have to say he's still pretty much the same guy, still the good boy trying to seem bad, trying to be so cool... but it's cute. Walking together, talking together... the heat makes the physical side a bit sticky, but in a way it's almost kind of sexy. Now I just have to make sure I keep him away from Sara. She'd probably steal him out of spite. Not that I doubt how he feels about me but I know how a pretty face can drive boys wild. And not that I'm not pretty... but I know she's prettier than me. She's drop dead gorgeous.
Then it happens. It's Thursday and class lets out. I join the mob of girls trudging down the corridors in the stifling heat and head for the courtyard. I step out into the glaring sun and make my way towards the gate. There, leaning against the brick archway leading into the schools property is Sara. And in front of her, far too close for my tastes, is Mark. His tie is off and his short sleeved uniform shirt is open, showing his slightly damp undershirt. And damn he looks good. That bitch.
The heat is almost forgotten as anything other than further fuel for my anger as I stalk across the courtyard, it provides me with new energy to fuel my fast pace. She spots me as I approach; predictably enough the only acknowledgment of my presence is brief eye contact before she rolls her eyes. I manage to catch Mark unawares, however, and he starts briefly as I take his arm and give him a tight smile.
"Aw, hey babe. How's it going? Enjoying the lovely weather?" He smiles casually down at me, his posture relaxing back from his previous lean towards my sister.
"Oh yeah," I respond with a wry smile. "I've always wanted to go on a spa vacation, but that doesn't mean I want to be in a sauna 24/7 for a month."
Sara just lets out a soft sigh, looking out beyond the gate into the distance.
"Your roommate doesn't seem to be too happy with it either." Mark says with a grin, eyeing Sara once again.
"Yeah, she doesn't like anything that messes with her complexion too much." I give her a little smirk as her eyes drift momentarily over me, impassive as ever.
"I don't tan, I burn and peel away paler than before." Her voice is as disinterested as her face, now that her majesty has deigned me worthy to hear her speak. I doubt she was so blase before I showed up. "Regardless, I'll catch you lovebirds later. I'm going to be late for my study group."
She turns and starts off towards the library. Good riddance. I give Mark's arm a little squeeze and then pull him down into a chaste kiss, in case any of the teachers or nuns are watching. Time to remind him who his girl is. I give his arm a little tug and he breaks out into another wide grin as I pull him off to one of the many shaded nooks around the buildings, both to get out of the heat of the sun and create a little of our own.
* * *
His hands slide over me a little more roughly than I like, gripping my flesh where I prefer to be caressed. I admonish him with a light bite on his lower lip, then tip my head back, allowing his lips to vainly attempt to devour my neck. I can feel him pressed up against me, the firmness of his body, the rock hard bulge of his cock pressing against my pelvis, his slippery palms sliding over the skin of my back underneath my shirt, occasionally ranging down to knead or squeeze my ass. My mouth meets his once again and I can feel the passion and hunger in him.
That's the best part. I can feel how much he wants me. He wants me and only me. I am his world right now, his idol, his goddess. It's in his kisses, the way his mouth and hands travel over me, the way he presses me back against the cool brick wall, and the throbbing of his stiffness straining to escape from his shorts. All for me.
Which leads me back to Sara. Another reason to hate her. Whenever she's around it's like I cease to be an independent entity. I stop being a single person; I become half of a unit, inseparable in so many people's minds. And not even equal halves. So often it seems I end up considered the lesser. Her needs always come first. It's always what will make her behave, what will appease her. Never what makes me happy. My twin, my bane, my albatross. Shit. She can totally ruin my mood, just by being in the same state.
* * *
When I get back to the room my mood hasn't brightened any. She's laying on her bed, flipping through a magazine. She hardly even glances up at me. I stare at her for a moment, her long, smooth legs, her flat belly, lightly beaded with sweat, the swell of her breasts held in place by a lacy white bra, her delicate wrists leading up into her long, graceful hands. Her skin, usually white as cream, is flushed pink in our stuffy little room, her dark hair spread over her pillows. Polar opposites, and yet we're twins.
I shoot a glare in her direction, not caring whether she sees it or not, and head to my computer, shedding clothes as I go.
"I saw what you were doing earlier." I say, sending another dark look her way.
"Mmmm... and what was that?" she asks, not even looking up, still idly paging through her issue of... whatever it is.
"You know." I'm not in the mood for her games. Playing innocent and then sniping as soon as an opening appears.
"Oh, you mean getting talked at by your boy toy?"
"He's my boyfriend. And I saw how close you were getting." God she makes me furious. I'm sure the wavering tone in my voice shows it, but I'm not sure I care.
"You mean how close he was getting to me. You really could do better." Calm, steady, detached. Infuriating.
"So you were just standing there, innocently minding your own business and he randomly started talking to you?" I ask incredulously, ignoring the snipe at my taste in men.
