Flora Pruitt and I were the famous twins of Los Angeles. She was the dazzling dance student, and I was just her control group — the shadow she'd been cast against since we were children.
Freshman year, the campus heartthrob chased me like it was the event of the season. He carried me to class and back every day, told me his heart ached for me.
Everyone said I'd hit the jackpot, and slowly my cold little heart started to thaw under all that warmth.
Then came my birthday. The party ended, the rain came down hard, and out of habit I reached for him. He carried me out through the door while his friends whistled, and then, right before we reached the car, he let go of me.
I dragged myself up, wiped the mud and rain off my face, and looked at him laughing with the crowd behind him.
"Flora bet me five grand I couldn't land you in a month. Turns out you didn't make me lose."
"So easy to fool!"
I slapped him across the face, and after that I sealed myself off completely.
I poured everything I had into studying. Top of the department, year after year.
Senior year, a few thugs cornered me in a corner of the dining hall. Edmund Gilbert rushed in and pulled me out of it. He took a knife to the arm, more than a dozen stitches, and a scar that would never go away.
He told me, "Effie Pruitt, from now on I'll protect you."
The night before graduation, we gave ourselves to each other.
It hurt so much I cried, and he kissed me and said he'd be good to me for the rest of my life.
But the next day, backstage at the graduation hall, I overheard him talking to his buddies.
"Edmund, so what's it like, being the one to take Effie Pruitt's first?"
"Practice." He laughed. "Flora's terrified of pain. She wanted me to get the experience first. That way I'd know what I was doing, and it wouldn't hurt her when the time came."
His friend whistled. "So does Effie Pruitt know?"
"What if she does? She's a cripple. Who else would want her but me?"
My phone buzzed. A message from my professor.
"The confirmation letter for the combined master's–PhD track at the New York university. Are you still signing?"
My hands were shaking as I typed.
"No. I'm applying for that classified program out West."
……
The wind in the hallway had turned my eyes red.
"Well, well, Edmund. You really are something."
"And here we actually thought you'd fallen for a cripple."
Edmund laughed.
"Do I have that little taste? I was just banking some experience."
One of his buddies said, marveling, "You even hired a few thugs and staged a whole show to make Effie Pruitt fall for you. And look at her now. She's crazy about you."
Edmund's voice dropped low.
"She's easy to fool."
He paused, then added one more line.
"Easy to sleep with, too."
The guys burst out laughing, the sound bouncing down the hallway.
I clenched my fists tight and turned and walked away.
My first time had, honestly, been awful.
The space in the car was too cramped, and I'd cried the whole way through the pain, but I bore it willingly, for him.
And in the end, from start to finish, I was the only one who'd fallen.
Treated like a fool, spun in circles.
Back in the dorm, I opened my laptop, pulled up the confirmation page for the program out West, and clicked confirm.
My phone rang. One of Edmund's buddies.
"Effie Pruitt, come out for karaoke!"
"I'm not coming."
"Oh, come on, Edmund's here! He's had too much to drink, hurry up and come, or there's no one to take him home."
The call ended, and an address came through.
I hesitated for a few seconds, then went anyway.
I pushed open the door of the private room and stepped inside. A whole ring of people, every one of them dressed to the nines, gathered around Flora Pruitt wishing her a happy birthday.
Flora saw me and frowned.
"Effie, did you buy that outfit back in middle school? It looks so dated. Why are you still wearing it? Anyone who didn't know better would think our family mistreated you."
I lowered my head and said nothing.
