"So, what's the deal with you and your sister?"
The question caught me by surprise, enough so that what promised to be a perfectly executed headshot ended with my character being fragged by a tank instead.
"What do you mean?" I asked. I hadn't the faintest clue what Nick was talking about.
"I dunno," Nick replied. "You guys seem really...close, that's all."
"Well, we are twins," I said sarcastically, annoyed that this seemingly inane line of questioning had cost me the lead.
"I mean really close. Like, freaky close," Nick continued.
"Yeah, no idea what you're talking about dude." Nick was a good friend, but he could be a little thick sometimes, especially when it came to the opposite sex. My sister was no exception.
Speak of the devil and she shall appear. My eminently more studious twin entered our apartment, carrying an armful of books. What possessed her to take eighteen hours in one semester was beyond me, but she seemed to be balancing her course load effectively, although her social life was virtually non-existent, outside of hanging out with me.
"Hey Jack," Jennifer greeted me breathlessly.
"Hey Jen. Care to join us?" I asked, gesturing towards the TV with my controller.
"Can't. Mid-term tomorrow. Some of us actually have to study once in a while," my sister replied with mock criticism.
"That's your fault for setting the bar too high. Some of us know how to manage parental expectations," I retorted.
Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Mom and Dad would be so proud. Well, I'll let you two get back to killing aliens or Nazis or whatever it is your killing today. Love you," she said, leaning over the back of the sofa to hug me from behind and kiss my cheek.
"Ditto," I replied. It was something of an inside joke between the two of us, a reference to an old Patrick Swayze movie our mother was particularly fond of. With that, Jennifer picked up her books and made her way to her bedroom, closing the door to block out the sounds of electronic gunfire.
"You good to go?" I asked Nick, eager to return to our digital mayhem.
Nick just stared at me instead. " You see! That, right there!" he shouted. "What?" I asked. What the hell was his problem?
"You live together. You hang out all the time. You're all lovey-dovey with each other. You act like you're, you know, together," Nick explained.
I was starting to get annoyed. "Look, me and Jen are tight, ok? We've been each other's best friend our whole lives. It doesn't mean anything weird is going on between us."
"I'm just saying, when people see you in public together, people that don't know you, they think you're a couple. And that's pretty fuckin' weird," Nick insisted.
My patience finally ran out. "Whatever dude," I said dismissively. "As much as I appreciate your incestuous implications, I too have a mid-term in the morning and I intend to at least show up for it."
He took the hint. "Later man," he said as he made his way to the door.
"Later."
-
I continued to play for another hour or so alone after Nick left, but I was still distracted by our earlier conversation. Nick wasn't exactly a social butterfly or anything, so if he was picking some kind of weird vibe between me and my twin, there was a good chance other people were as well. Eventually I called it quits and went to bed.
Sleep eluded me for the next several hours. Nick's words kept echoing my head, and hard as I tried to ignore the implications, there was a cold logic behind his words. Perception is everything and even if nothing inappropriate was going on between me and my sister, the mere appearance of it could have lasting implications. It would explain my non-existent dating streak.
I didn't open my eyes when I heard my bedroom door creak open. Jennifer would sneak into my room all the time when we were kids, a habit that continued to manifest into adulthood. I thought nothing of it before, happily enjoying the warmth and intimacy of the ritual. But as I felt the bed shift as Jennifer sat down on her side, I realized that this was exactly the sort of thing Nick was talking about.
"Move over," she ordered, poking me in the back.
"You do you realize that you have your own bed, right?" I asked rhetorically.
"Yours is more comfortable," Jennifer replied.
