Like Sisters

Wherever they went, people believed Ariana and Leandra were sisters. They shared the same hair color, the same red lips, the same dimples. To the locals they met, they also had the same accent.

The two women had met in college, and spent a sabbatical year travelling across the world together after graduating. Leandra always harbored a touch of jealousy towards her friend, something she consistently concealed of course. Ariana had been named valedictorian of their business cohort and did not hesitate to shout it from the rooftops when the occasion arose.

“I have no concerns about finding a job next year,” she said one night while on a double date with German men in a Berlin nightclub. “I graduated valedictorian, you know.”

The young woman’s level of inebriation had reached unusual heights. A perfect student like her did not much about partying, and many of the rules of responsible drinking flew over her head that evening as she downed shots of tequila.

“Of course they know,” said Leandra, embarrassed. “You told them already.”

“Did I?”

“Yes you did.”

She burst out laughing.

“I guess I had too much of this poison.”

“Amen to that. C’mon sister, I think it’s time to go.”

One of the men offered to take them back to his apartment, but Leandra quickly dismissed him. Ariana ended up barfing on her knees in an alleyway adjacent to the club street. Her partner in crime held her hair as she threw up some more.

“You’re my best friend,” said Ariana between two regurgitations. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Thank you for always being there for me. I don’t know what I would have done without—”

The sentiment went unfinished as she barfed one last time and passed out. By now, Leandra was annoyed. This was the third night ruined by Ariana’s excessive drinking since the start of their trip, and the propensity for bragging left her unamused. She actually found the company of the German men quite enjoyable but had to cut the date short because of the situation. To remind Ariana of the unpleasantness of the situation should the situation begin to go off rails again, she took a picture of her, immortalizing the moment forever.

***

The last day of the trip had come. Soon, both women would go back to America and follow separate paths. Ariana had eyes on an advertising firm in New York, while Leandra thought about moving to California to open a production company.

Their final stop was Amsterdam. Most of the last week had been spent walking down the canals on starry nights by the charming light of the street lamps, savoring the fleeting moments of freedom that would soon belong to the past as they became fully fledged working women. The air seemed permeated with the memories of the great cities they had traveled to, from the enchantment of the Paris street performers to the pristine water of the Thailand beaches.

As she waited for Ariana to come out of a thrift shop, Leandra observed the stands of an outdoor marketplace, on the hunt for souvenirs. Just as she was about to purchase a guillotine cheese slicer, a man bumped into her and she fell on the ground, scraping her knee.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” she screamed.

“I am so sorry,” replied the stranger. “I don’t know what happened, I must have been distracted for a second.”

He helped her up. All of her contempt for his clumsiness quickly vanished: there was something different about the handsome young dutchman. His face radiated charm and elegance, while his immaculate white clothes betrayed a refined sense of style and decorum.

“No need to worry about it,” said Leandra. “It could have happened to anybody.”

“Please, let me make it up to you. Perhaps I could buy you dinner tonight as a compensation.”

“If you insist, I must admit it would be hard to say no.”

“What did I miss?” asked Ariana as she got out the thrift shop, wearing a red dress worthy of a Hollywood movie. The things one finds in thrift shops, thought Leandra.

The dutchman’s eyes crossed Ariana’s, and right then Leandra knew it was hopeless. Electricity flowed between them. From then on, Leandra’s voice became noise in the background, a mere distraction from the real romance at play.

“I accidentally bumped into your friend,” explained the dutchman. “We were planning on going for dinner tonight so I could apologize properly. Would you like to join us?”

“Of course!” exclaimed Ariana. “I’d be delighted.”

The pair walked down the market street as Leandra trailed behind. Again, she had been upstaged. It was only a matter of time before Ariana revealed herself to be the class valedictorian. There was one card still in Leandra’s hand, however. That picture still existed on her phone. For a split second, she thought of showing it to the dutchman, but the thought quickly went away. She couldn’t. Ariana was indeed her best friend, after all. Best friends don’t betray each other like that. Leandra swallowed her pride and moved on.

***

It was all over the news. Ariana would soon be a princess. Prince Rembrandt of the Netherlands had proposed. Leandra watched the newscast with resentment as she washed the dishes at the back of the diner. Unfortunately, the production company turned out not to be very successful. At least, she could always live vicariously through her best friend.

Ariana had promised to put her on the guest list. Soon, she would fly back to the Netherlands and get to take part in the fairy tale wedding of the decade. She needed a bit of glamor to be injected back in her life, and this was the perfect opportunity, her only chance to make up for the date that almost changed her life before slipping away.

***

Leandra squeezed herself between the tabloids, trying to reach the church’s entrance door. A heavy mustachioed guard stopped her.

“I’m invited,” said Leandra, beaming. “Look at your list.”

“May I please get your name?” he replied.

“Leandra. Leandra Holmes.”

He scanned his guest list.

“I’m afraid you’re nowhere to be seen.”

“That’s impossible! I’m her best friend. Her sister. She promised...”

“The guest list has been revised many times. The Prince and Princess agreed to only invite the important people. I’m sorry miss, but you’ll have to leave now.”

Leandra slowly stepped away from the entrance gates, disillusioned, her blood boiling. How could she, after all these years? A tabloid came up to her.

“Do you know the princess, Ma’am?”

She pondered the question.

“Yes. Let me show you a picture.”