Inappropriate

Luckily, Jennifer either had no recollection of our awkward morning embrace or had simply decided not to mention it. Either way, I was spared considerable embarrassment. I mulled over my predicament as I sat in class that morning, eager to find a way to mitigate my unnatural desires without hurting my sister's feelings.

To be honest, this probably wasn't the first time I'd reacted to my sister's body, but I was never as cognizant of it as I was now. Both of us were woefully inexperienced when it came to sex, a consequence of a certain degree of social ineptitude, as well as our lifelong emotional intimacy. I'd always found her attractive, but I never found myself dwelling on her body so intently before. It occurred to me that I had seen more of her than anyone else on the planet.

And just like that, I was once again punished by the gods of inconvenient and painful erections, the kind that used to strike without warning during puberty. Thus, I has the privilege of spending the rest of the lecture trying desperately to think about anything other than what my sister looked like naked.

What I needed was a distraction. Someone other than my twin sister to dwell on. Someone that was actually an option. That last part was the most difficult. I still hadn't quite mastered the art of talking to a woman that wasn't related to me. Too many video games, not enough football I assumed.

I took a mental count of eligible female classmates I actually knew by name. It was a short list. Vicky and Michelle. I'd actually gotten to know Michelle fairly well over the last several weeks, thanks to a series of shared classes and interests. Nick, Jen, Michelle, and I had formed a mini nerd club, which met regularly at her dorm room to play video games and discuss all things geek chic. Unfortunately, Michelle had the sex drive and appeal of a turnip, so our relationship was destined to remain platonic indefinitely.

Vicky was Michelle's roommate, which was about the extent of what I knew about her. She kept to herself for the most part, although she would interject occasionally whenever classic film happened to be the topic of discussion. She was pleasant enough, even if she was a little aloof. It seemed like Vicky would be my best option. She was cute, not jaw-dropping beautiful or anything, but certainly attractive. She didn't seem overtly interested in me, but then again she didn't seem particularly interested in anyone, so I decided to risk it. A bruised ego wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

-

I decided to run the idea by Jennifer first. This was uncharted territory after all, and in spite of recent awkward developments, she was still my best friend and confidant. Best of all, she was a woman, so I imagined that if nothing else, her feminine insight might come in handy.

"So, I've been thinking about asking Vicky out," I announced casually as I tuned my guitar. I rarely needed to find a decent transition or establish context when beginning a conversation with my sister, an advantage to having similar thought processes.

"Oh? And why would you want to do a thing like that?" she asked with slightly narrowed eyes. Weird. I'd expected her to tease me a little, but her tone sounded almost catty.

"I don't know. She's cute. Seems kind of interesting." I didn't expect to have to defend myself.

"Was she cute and interesting last week?" Yep. Definitely catty.

"I suppose so. Why do you ask?" I inquired carefully.

"She just doesn't seem like your type, that's all," Jennifer said noncommittally.

"I have a type?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Everyone has a type. Didn't think you went for frigid and pretentious, but who am I to judge?"

What the hell was her problem? "Look, are you going to help me or not?" I asked crossly.

Jen sighed. "Fine. But I'm doing this under protest."

"Your objection is noted. So, what do you know?"

"Well, she's pale. Not elegantly fair skinned like your beautiful sister. More like a freaky, dead pale. She might be a vampire."

I wasn't amused. "You're not helping."

"Fine. Well, she thinks you're cute, in a geeky 'Dungeons and Dragons' sort of way," Jennifer explained.

"We don't play Dungeons and Dragons. We don't even play Magic the..."

"Yeah, she's not going to be able to make that distinction, and I'd advise against trying to do it for her," my sister replied irritably. "Now may I finish?"

"Sorry."

"That's ok. Anyway, she's really into old movies, especially Alfred Hitchcock. If you bring up Vertigo, she'll talk about it for at least an hour." Interesting. I already knew the part about classic movies, but the Hitchcock thing was new information.

"I've never seen it."

Jennifer shook her head. "Don't bother. Just bring it up once and you'll know everything you ever wanted to know about it and then some. Let's see. Loves the Stones, the Boss, Zepplin, all the classics, so I can't fault her taste in music."

"Should I break out the guitar?" I asked, idly strumming a few chords. Jennifer was not pleased.

"No. Do not be that guy. You and I jam together and it's awesome and fun and we have a great time. But if you use your guitar to try to get into some girl's pants like every other asshole with a faux hawk on this campus, you will have a head injury and a broken guitar. Are we clear?"

"Fine, fine," I said as I put my hands up in mock surrender. "Anything else."

"That's about it. Try not to over-think it. Just talk to her like you talk to me and you'll be fine." She paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "Look, you're a great guy. I'm not just saying that because I'm your sister and I have to love you." She paused again, and her voice grew softer. "You make me laugh. You always know exactly what to say and do to make me feel better when I'm sad, or scared, or angry. I never have to hide anything when I'm with you. I can come to you with anything, anything at all and I never have to worry that you'll think it's stupid or petty. When I'm with you, I'm just...happy. I guess what I'm saying is, don't sell yourself short. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

I didn't know how to respond to that. The air seemed hot and thick and uncomfortable and Jennifer just kept staring at me, waiting for me to say something. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I stammered shakily.

"Anytime."

-

Jen's advice was pure gold and within the week I had a girlfriend. Vicky's assimilation into our little band included an extra, her best friend from high school, Ryan. I was surprised to learn that Ryan was gay, a fact that made me uncomfortable at first, a consequence of growing up in the bible belt. As it turned out, reports of the predatory nature of our nation's homosexuals were greatly exaggerated and I chucked that piece of trivia into the pile of stupid things I learned living in a small town.

That being said, I didn't particularly like the guy. He was kind of like a male Vicky, although slightly less effeminate and exponentially more morose. Dude needed to get laid, or high, or something.

Sadly I'd been rather unsuccessful in my sexual escapades as well. Vicky and I indulged each other in the occasional door room make out session, much to Michelle's annoyance, but the physical aspect of our relationship progressed at an infuriatingly sluggish pace. The best I'd managed was a little clumsy, "under the shirt, over the bra," action, which was more frustrating than arousing.

My physical relationship with Vicky was similar to fishing. It took a lot of effort to get started, the process itself wasn't all that interesting, and I never really accomplished anything. It felt like I was constantly auditioning for a role I didn't really want. Jennifer wasn't wrong about Vicky being frigid, but there was plenty of blame to go around. When it came down to it, every time I kissed Vicky, I felt like I was kissing a stranger. which kind of defeated the entire purpose of the relationship.

Nonetheless, I persevered. Vicky still had one distinct advantage over Jennifer; she wasn't a blood relative. And that, apparently, made her worth settling for.

I briefly considered consulting Jennifer on the subject, but it was obvious that to do so would be worse than useless. Jen had become increasingly...aggressive in asserting her position as sister/best friend/most important woman in my life. She was almost territorially affectionate, even in public, to the point of making it slightly uncomfortable for everyone in the vicinity, especially Vicky. She might not have been the most warm or affectionate woman in the world, but she had jealousy down pat.

In spite of these setbacks, our little gang began to solidify, friendships coalescing around shared hobbies, interests, and personalities. Video games and stoner humor continued to be the bedrock of my friendship with Nick. Michelle and I bonded over anime, one of the few interests my twin and I did not share; Nick and Vicky discussed science in general, and biology specifically at length. Jen even made a point of inviting Ryan over to our apartment for the occasional jam session, and I admitted, a bit begrudgingly, that having a drummer was a vast improvement.

Still, we weren't exactly one big happy family. Michelle seemed to simply tolerate the presence of anyone other than Vicky or myself. Nick began making fumbling, half-hearted attempts to flirt with my sister, who remained steadfastly and deliberately oblivious to it. Ryan and I could never come up with a damn thing to say to one another other than "One, two, three four," and Vicky and Jennifer's relationship quickly soured to the point where they were just shy of openly hostile toward one another.

The biggest challenge was the fact that for some reason, I became the de facto leader of our modest crowd, mainly because I was the only one that had at least one positive association with each of its members. Naturally, I got to hear all of the bitching.

"Why do you two insist on fornicating in my dorm room? Don't you have an apartment?" Michelle grumbled.

"Do you have to do that here? In our apartment. On our couch? Can't you guys exchange fluids at her place?" Jennifer protested.

"I don't know what her problem is. I've never been anything but nice to her, but she acts like I'm not good enough for you or something. She really needs to get her own life." Vicky whined.

"You ever noticed how he just...stays, even when your make it ridiculously obvious that you're trying to get him to go home? It's kind of creepy, right?" Nick muttered.

Ok, almost everyone. Ryan didn't complain, at least not to me. He just kind of stared at people, as if he was trying very hard to read their minds and enjoying a moderate degree of success. And in fairness to Nick, it was pretty creepy.

-

The hardest part was balancing competing demands on my time. My classes, homework, friends, girlfriend, and sister all fought for increasingly small shares of my finite time. I rarely spent any time hanging out with Nick one-on-one anymore, dating was suddenly becoming a full-time job, and my time with Jen always carried an air of tension to it, as if she assumed I'd be happier elsewhere.

One night as I was working on homework, Jennifer took to working out the kinks to "King of Anything" on her piano as I struggled through an English essay. The topic was easy, but I hadn't found the time to actually read the source material. When I finally came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to be able to bullshit my way through this assignment, I realized the music had stopped and my twin had vanished. A second later, a pair of thin, but deceptively strong arms were pulling me to the ground.

Apparently Jen was bored. Eh, what the hell. I needed a break anyway. I counterattacked, reaching below my sister's ribs to tickle her, one of my go-to moves during our wrestling matches. Overpowering her wasn't a problem, but I preferred to subdue her by more tortuous means.

"Stop it!," she squealed, giggling profusely. "You rat bastard, you can't open with that!"

"Strike first. Strike hard. No mercy," I retorted, continuing my assault.

"I don't think this is what the Cobra Kai dojo had in mind," Jennifer whined.

"You rack disciprine," I mocked in horribly exaggerated Engrish.

"Rape! Rape!" Jen yelled through hiccups and giggles.

"Shhh! Someone might actually hear you, you know? Plus, I thought you were supposed to yell 'Fire?'" I admonished.

"Won't they just think the building's on fire?"

"Yeah, they kind of gloss over that part, don't they?"

It was at the precise moment that I realized what a precarious position we were in. Jennifer was on the floor, her legs wrapped around my pelvis in a vain attempt to keep me at bay. She wasn't trying to now. Our faces were only inches apart.

Jennifer stared at me intently, like she was waiting for something. She reached up, gently running her fingertips over my temple. I started to lean in. She closed her eyes.

Jennifer and I were thirteen the first time we kissed, just two young teenagers eager to find out what all the fuss was about. And like everything else, we did it together. We loved each other, trusted each other. Every experience we had up until that point that was worth having, we did together. It made sense, at the time. We were young. We never considered the possibility that what we were doing was wrong.

Five years later and here we were again. Only this time, I knew damn well it was wrong. I just couldn't bring myself to care. Jennifer inhaled deeply as my lips met hers. She tilted her head, cupping my face with her hand as she returned the pressure. I could taste her lips, her tongue, her warmth.

A faint buzzing sounds brings us both crashing back to earth, and I curse the man who invented cell phones. I couldn't answer it even if I wanted to. Both it and I were trapped between my sister's legs, but it doesn't matter. I knew that it was Vicky and I knew that all of this is impossible and that I'd wake up any second.

Only it wasn't and Jennifer just kept staring at me. "Jen, what are we doing?" I asked hoarsely.

"I don't know," she whispered, and I realized that she's just as desperate and confused as I am. "We didn't do anything wrong," she says tentatively, as if she's trying to convince the both of us. "It's not like we're hurting anyone. We should be able to have...moments like this."

Vicky would probably disagree, but Vicky's the furthest thing from my mind right now. We untangled ourselves from one another and sat up against the wall, staring at nothing in particular.

"Jennifer, this is," I stammered as I looked down at the carpet, unable to say the word, "people have a word for this."

"I know that," she gritted, suddenly angry. "That's not...that's not what this is." Her shoulders sank and she closed her eyes. "I don't know what this is. All I know right now is that I love you."

She sat there quietly, waiting for me to say something, anything. I'd never seen her look so vulnerable. I wanted to say, "I love you too," but I knew what would follow if I did, and as much as I wanted it I was terrified of what it would mean. It didn't help that my damn phone kept on ringing, beckoning me to make a choice.

So I answered it, and my beautiful, loving twin, sensing that she'd been rebuffed, fled the room, slamming the door behind her. I knew that I was letting go of an opportunity, and I doubted it would present itself again. I just hoped that by doing so, I was saving both of our lives and that my sister would forgive me.