The Twins' Plan

Author's note: My second published story!! Another huge thank you to Spector_Dugan for all the suggestions and edits that helped shape and polish this story into its current form (all errors are still mine). Everyone in this story is over the age of 18. I hope you enjoy!

The Plan: Prologue

Aiden glanced at the game clock then down towards the three-point line. His defender was tired, leaving him space to put up one final shot. He could make it, win the game, and prove he was worthy of being a starter instead of the team's eternal bench-warming sixth man. He just needed to clear his mind for a few moments. Just forget about all the past screw ups --

the missed chances

-- and focus on what was right there in front of him.

Only seconds remained. The crowd was standing in anticipation.

"Shoot it, Aiden!" His twin sister Madison yelled from the sidelines.

Why was it always Madison's voice that reached him through the roaring cheers, screams, and boos of the crowd? He glanced sideways to where she radiated with energy and enthusiasm.

Despite being the shortest cheerleader on the team, she easily stood out among the energetic pack of blond teenagers. It was clear why she'd been picked as co-captain of the cheer squad along with her best friend Hannah Baker; both of them had the type of charms that could start or end wars, and the entire school had been smitten with them from day one.

Hannah also happened to be a twin, the sportier half of the Baker twins, and a mirror image of her beautiful sister Ashley.

Ashley Baker.

Talk about a missed chance.

The world turned slow and fuzzy at the thought of her. She was perfect in every way and a constant reminder of what might have been if he hadn't screwed things up so epically.

"A-I-D-E-N!"

His name sounded muffled now, like he was submerged under water. It was hard to break away from the sight of Hannah Baker's long golden hair. She looked so much like her sister Ashley.

Three years of could-have-been moments flashed through his mind: mediocre grades, when he could have been an honor roll student. Warming the bench because of his lack of confidence. And finally, the most painful of them all, being a single loser, when he could have been dating Ashley Baker.

"SHOOT. IT. AIDEN." Madison's voice finally cut through the haze and pulled him out the depths of distraction.

She was gesturing wildly toward the basket.

He turned, squared up, and released the smoothest flowing three he'd ever shot. It was perfect, with nice rotation and an indefensible high arc that made the ball swish-drop straight through the net. He'd done it.

He'd won the game.

"No shot," the referee yelled, waving his hands. "Sorry kid. After the buzzer."

A collective groan echoed throughout the gymnasium. He cringed inwardly, hoping the polished maple floor would turn into quicksand and suck him down into a dark abyss deep beneath the building. Not even his teammates granted him reprieve from the disappointed and angry looks. Worst of all were the cheerleaders, who glared at him like he'd personally ruined everyone's evening. Only his sister and Hannah gave him consoling looks.

"What the F was

that

, Miller?" Coach yelled.

He shrugged. "Sorry, Coach. Thought I had more time."

"You had time," he said through gritted teeth.

"Plenty of it."

Aiden's mind automatically faded back to that fuzzy, underwater place, where all the noise got drowned out, and he could be alone with his thoughts.

Ashley Baker.

It all started with her. If only the mysterious forces of fate hadn't conspired against him three years ago. She was the first domino to drop in a series of events that made him the high school social pariah. He was eventually rescued from that fate by his infinitely charismatic twin sister Madison, who sacrificed some of her own social cred to do damage control on his image. If it hadn't been for her, his entire high school experience would have been an epic disaster.

Thanks to her, life was good enough to be mediocre.

After Coach finished venting his anger, Aiden went straight home. He hadn't even considered attending the Friday night parties, not that he'd be welcome after losing the game in such a stupidly dramatic fashion.

He stood in the shower, replaying those final seconds over and over. If he'd just gotten the shot off one second earlier...

"Wasn't your fault," his sister's voice said from the other side of the shower curtain. He hadn't heard her come into their shared bathroom, which connected their adjoining rooms. Over the years, it had somehow become their safe space, a place where they could open up to each other about the daily stresses of teenage life, although it always seemed to be him stressing and Madison listening.

"Wasn't your fault," she repeated after he hadn't responded.

"Tell that to Coach," he replied.

"He's an asshole," she said. "Someone should tell him that basketball is a team sport."

"This one's on me," he said. "I got distracted."

"Because of Hannah?" Madison asked.

He nodded even though he knew she couldn't see him. "She looked just like Ashley tonight."

"They're

identical twins

," she replied, a sliver of jovial sarcasm in her tone.

He turned off the water. Then Madison's hand reached in past the end of the shower curtain holding a fresh towel. He took it and began to dry off.

"You really need to get over Ashley," she said. "It's been three years. Take a chance with someone else."

Easier said than done in a high school that never lets you forget your most publicly embarrassing moments.

"Who would go out with me?" he said.

"Aiden, you're a good looking senior who plays varsity ball, you're really smart and a nice guy, that alone puts you in the top one percent. You have options, and if you don't want to make the first move then I could set you up."

"That would be weird," he said, swinging the curtain open.

She stood there, arms crossed, in her favorite tee and trousers pajama combo. Her dark amber eyes were narrowed and serious, and he could tell that something was bothering her.

"Not weird," she said. "It's not like I'm suggesting you date

me

. Setups happen all the time. It's totally normal, unlike hanging out with your twin sister, in a bathroom, on Friday night."

"Surprisingly, that doesn't seem as weird," he said.

Hanging out with Madison had never been weird, even in their shared bathroom. They'd been inseparable as kids, and that level of comfort around each other had persisted beyond their awkward adolescent years. Even now, as eighteen-year-olds, the concept of "weird" didn't really apply when it was just the two of them. She was just his sister 'Mads', who had always been by his side, and who knew him better than anyone in the world. She also just happened to be an eighteen-year-old beauty with an athletic body and boobs that were just a little too big for her frame.

"Fine, don't ask for my help," she said. "But please do something. It's our last year of high school and the only thing you do is mope around the house and lament some stupid failed date from three years ago."

"I mope about other things too," he said. "Like losing basketball games."

"You did not lose that game," she said sternly. "Sure, you had an open shot at the end and wasted it by staring at Hannah's tits."

"I wasn't."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I'm sure we could find video evidence of the tit-timeframe in question."

He pursed his lips at her, knowing he'd be on the losing end of that challenge.

"Like I was saying," she continued, taking a few steps forward and poking his bare chest with her index finger. "You didn't lose that game. We had an eight point lead going into the fourth quarter and their leading scorer --

who you were guarding

-- went one-for-five because of your amazing defense. The team lost that game, it just sucks that your coach prefers to play the blame game instead of figuring out how to close out fourth quarters."

"Okay, fine," he conceded. "I actually agree with you. But for the record, I wasn't staring at Hannah tits."

"Someone else's tits, then?"

"Madison."

"I've seen your porn links. I know you like 'em big."

"

Mads

," he said. "Not helping right now. And please stop checking out my porn links. That's a little weird, even for us."

"Okay," she said, turning her head and cracking her neck like she was doing some kind of hard manual reset on herself. "Then tell me, dear brother, what had you lost in that trance?"

"I was staring at Ashley's tits."

"Pretty sure Ashley wasn't at the game," she said.

"She wasn't, but I was using Hannah as a visual reference to imagine Ashley tits."

"So... you were staring at Hannah's tits."

"In my mind they were Ashley's."

"Tomato, to-mah-toe," she said dismissively.

"Different tits," he argued.

"Literally, identical."

"Okay. Fine," he said, throwing his hands up. "I concede on a technicality."

Madison smirked.

"Point is, I screwed up, Mads. Again."

"Look, Aiden, everyone's going to forget about the game in a few days. It's high school, there's always a new distraction. But I am worried about your obsession with Ashley. She's your white whale, and she's ruining our life."

"Can't help it," he said. "I'm cursed. I should change my name to Ishmael."

She cracked a slight smile. "You mean Ahab. Ishmael is the narrator. And I'm being serious."

"Me too," he said. "And what does this have to do with you?"

She stared at him blankly.

"You just said my obsession with Ashley is ruining OUR life," he said.

"Well... ruining yours," she said. "But mine too. I want you to be happy. I'm tired of seeing you wander around the house like a depressed panda who lost his bamboo shoot. We used to have fun. Remember when we would stay up all night watching cheesy movies and stuffing ourselves full of pizza and ice cream?"

She stepped forward until they were only a few inches apart.

"I miss you, Aiden." Her dark amber eyes stared up into his. "You've been really sad lately, and I don't like that. I don't want to lose you."

Aiden thought he'd been doing a good job of masking his sadness, but it was impossible to keep anything from his twin sister. Everyone joked about their twinsense, that since they'd shared a womb for nine months, they were connected via some mystical force. And it was true. Standing there, staring into the limitless depths of his sister's eyes, he could see echoes of his own sadness in her.

"I didn't realize it was making you sad too," he said.

She stood still for a moment, then nodded.

The last thing he wanted was the emotional turmoil of his cursed high school life to spill into Madison's world. She didn't deserve that, and he'd do anything to make her happy.

"Okay," he said. "Maybe you're right. I need to get over Ashley and I probably can't do it alone. So, I guess I'm going to need your help."

Her eyes lit up and she rushed in, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his chest. "Don't worry, Aiden," she said, almost whispering. "I already have a plan, and I won't let you down."

Aiden looked down at the way she embraced his bare chest, her breasts pressing against him through the thin fabric of her top.

"I hope it doesn't involve hugs like these in public," he said, half-joking.

She shook her head without letting go. "These hugs are just for us."

The Plan: Part 1

Aiden woke the next morning to the sounds of rustling in his closet. Moments later, Madison walked out holding a pair of skinny jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a slim-fit long-sleeved flannel button up.

"Here, wear these today," she said, folding and setting them down on his bed.

He rubbed his eyes, then reached for his phone to check the time. "Mads, it's Saturday."

"Yes, and we have a busy day ahead." She was dressed in her casual weekend vintage grunge look, with light patchy-worn jeans, a black form fitting t-shirt, and her thick-soled Doc Martens that gave her height a boost.

He groaned, fell back onto his pillow and threw the covers over his head. Then she got into the bed behind him, wrapped an arm around his waist, and pressed her forehead gently into the nape of his neck.

"You trust me, right?" Her voice was soft but serious.

He turned to face her under the covers, their foreheads touching. For a moment, he remembered the pillow and blanket forts they built together as kids. They would stay in it all day with flashlights, snacks, and books, both cuddled against each other as they read all day. Being this close had never been strange, although something was starting to feel a little different.

"Do you really need to ask?" he said.

She shook her head. "It's just... I was serious about having a plan, but it won't be easy for you."

"Hard core, super intense, self-improvement plan," he said. "Got it."

She didn't smile.

"Ok, so how bad is it?" he asked.

"Remember that summer at Grandma's when you got really curious about poison ivy? Like that, but emotionally."

Madison teased him for years after that episode. She had to help keep him doused in calamine lotion for weeks.

"So my feelings are going to itch, swell, and blister?"

"Most likely. Maybe worse," she said. "But I think this is the only way."

He had assumed that Madison would set him up with one of her classmates, maybe even someone on the cheerleading team, if he was lucky. But the intense look in her eyes told him that this was a lot more complicated than just being matched up with someone.

"You really think it's the only way to get me over that traumatic date with Ashley?"

"It messed with you in a bad way," she said. "It's been three years and you're only getting worse. I probably should have intervened earlier, but I kept hoping you'd find your own way."

"You make it sound like I have some kind of terminal disease," he said.

She shrugged sheepishly.

"Ok, fine," he said. "Tell me the plan."

She bit her lower lip and shook her head apologetically. "I can't, at least not yet."

That should probably have set off red flags, but it didn't. Madison would never hurt him, and she did have a knack for solving complex problems in creative and fun ways.

"Can you at least tell me the plan for today?" he asked.

She nodded. "Get dressed. Eat breakfast. Haircut."

"Doesn't sound too bad," he said. "Give me a few minutes."

She nodded. "I'll be waiting."

He got up, got dressed, and went downstairs to where Madison was standing by the door.

"Okay, I'm ready," he said, wondering why she was just standing there.

"We'll see," she half-mumbled. Then she gestured towards the door. "After you," she said apprehensively.

He shot her a puzzled eyebrow, then opened the door to see Hannah Baker standing there with a wide grin.

"Hi Aiden!"

The sight of her was like a punch in the gut. He froze, then slammed the door shut.

"Did I mention Hannah's coming?" Madison said, a guilty look on her face.

His heart was suddenly throbbing against his chest. Hannah Banker --

Ashley's identical twin

-- was just on the other side of that door.

"Umm, no. You didn't mention that," he said quietly.

Hannah being around would surely make things awkward considering the whole Ashley being an almost mirror image of her identical twin sister. He'd managed to avoid Hannah's visits the past three years by staying in his room whenever she came over to hang out with Madison, and only managed to run into her twice at their house. One of the times was an awkward shared-bathroom encounter that was almost as traumatically embarrassing as the date with Ashley, but luckily no one ever found out about that.

He stared at his sister.

"You know Hannah's really easy to be around, right?" Madison said.

He did know that. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Hannah and Madison were the charismatic core of the general student body. Their personalities and social status made it impossible to not want to be their friends. And since everyone wanted to be on good terms with the co-captains of the cheerleading team, the school had adopted a culture of chill and friendliness just to stay on their good side.

"I know Hannah's nice," he whispered. "But I see Ashley every time I look at her."

Madison nodded. "And that's why Hannah has to be part of the plan."

"The plan has parts!?" he said.

"You know I can hear both of you," Hannah said through the door.

Aiden blushed and Madison shrugged. "What can I say, Aiden? You're a total mess. Now, stop being rude and let Hannah in."

He took a few steps back. "You let her in."

She shook her head and opened the door.

"Hey Mads! Hello again, Aiden!"

She looked exactly like Ashley. In fact, he couldn't really be sure that this wasn't Ashley standing right in front of him. She even wore the same vintage-studious outfit that Ashley typically wore: corduroy pants and a white collared long-sleeve shirt, with a black v-necked vest. Maybe Ashley and Hannah had switched places as a practical joke? But his sister would know, wouldn't she?

"Say hello, Aiden," his sister chided.

"Hello."

"Nice outfit," Hannah said, looking him up and down.

"Mads picked it," he said matter-of-factly, then immediately cringed for replying with the most looser-ish response possible.

"You sis does have great taste," she said, winking at Madison.

He was doing his best to hold it together, but he couldn't help stare at the way her blonde wavy-tousled hair bounced around. It was mesmerizing, as if she had quickly thrown the effortless hair style together, yet it came out looking intentional and glamorous.

Being this close, he could see that her platinum highlights distinguished her from Ashley's sunflower shade of blonde, which Ashley always wore with a natural wave in a mid-back cut.

"Aiden, you're being awkward," his sister pointed out.

"Sorry," he said, quickly looking away.

"Don't worry, Mads," Hannah said. "That's why I'm here, right?"

Aiden gave his sister a questioning look. Why

was

Hannah there? Hannah's response seemed to suggest this was planned and intentional.

Madison ignored him. "Come on, we're going to be late," she said, jingling the keys.

He sat quietly in the back seat of the car as Madison drove, and both of them sang along to songs from their favorite playlists. When they reached the salon, Hannah greeted Miguel, her flamboyant stylist.

Madison put her hand gently on his shoulder. "You're doing great, Aiden," she whispered, as if reading his uncomfortable mood.

He swallowed and they sat down together, his sister handing him a book of men's hair styles to distract him. He flipped through the pages but none of the styles appealed to him. They all seemed to need too much hair spray or gel to maintain, and he was all about that lazy simplicity in his morning routine.

Madison took the book. "Since you're obviously too distracted to decide, I'll help."

She turned to the first page and studied each of the models, glancing back and forth between him and the book.

"You hate hair products, so it'll have to be a low-maintenance cut," she said to herself. "But not too short -- we don't want you looking like you're about to go off to war."

Part of him already felt like he was in a battle.

"Here!" she said excitedly. She pointed to a picture of a man with a high taper fade and a brushed up top. The cut looked clean and tight around the sides, definitely low maintenance, and the top was brushed upwards in a messy yet stylish fashion.

"Yeah," he said. "I like it."

She smiled. "I knew you would."

After what felt like hours, Hannah stood up from the styling chair, leaned towards the mirror, and turned her head left and right causing her shiny sunflower blonde hair to swish back and forth. Then she looked at him in the mirror and winked. He quickly looked away as if examining the corners of the room.