An Unexpected Lesson

"...don't you agree, Faith?" These were the words that shocked me out of the stupor I had let myself sink into. I must admit, I find the fantasies in my head much more agreeable than the ramblings of anyone. But, social courtesy compelled me to answer the question asked of me. "Um, y-yes," was my clumsy reply. I very much hoped that the point of the speaker (a rather talkative amber-haired girl that was more my sister's friend than my own,) was one that I agreed with. I have mentioned that I was paying very little attention to what was being said. I would not even be here if someone hadn't forced me to be. "Well, of course she agrees!" Came the confident reply of another talkative girl whom I found rather annoying who also happened to be my twin. As you have no doubt guessed, my sister and I are very much dissimilar. She has always been the bright, shining light, in contrast to my softly glowing one. Where Hope fills the world with gab and chatter, I have always been the quiet twin, the meek twin, the shy twin. So much so that my parents hired a tutor for me for the sixth-grade year. My extreme shyness is rather like oil against the water of starting middle school. Except...I don't agree with people's labels. If you took even the shortest peek inside my mind, you will find that I am quite extroverted, at least to myself. But...when around people...I cannot clearly explain it. I suppose my problem is fear of being judged. I am the most nervous about people disapproving of me. This is in sharp contrast to Hope. Where I am afraid of disproval, Hope lives for approval. And I daresay she gets it. She is the popular, cool one. Although, I suppose sometimes I am, too. Hope and I are identical, and with her being an extreme extrovert, people assume I am, too. Which I disagree with, but I can't bring myself to inform people that my sister and I are, in fact, two separate beings. BRRRRIIIINNNNGGGG. It was time for 4th period. Lunch was over.

By the time my sister tumbled into homeroom, ( the only class a) we shared, b) I wished I didn't have to take, and c) that changed periods from week to week) nearly everyone was already seated. Our teacher informed us that we were expected to do homework or read unless we had anything else we had to do. I remembered that my English teacher had told me there was something he wanted to discuss with me, but he said he hadn't the time then and would talk to me in homeroom. I vaguely wondered what it was as I flipped my book open. Suddenly, the door opened, and my (and Hope's, although she had it in a different period) English teacher, Mr. Zonkowski strode in. I expected him to come to me, but he went to Hope instead and took her out of the classroom. I figured he had something to share with her as well, and I thought nothing of it. I had sunk so far into my book that I never realized he never came back for me.

“Talent show tonight! Six to nine!” This was broadcast throughout the halls as kids, desperate to get home, rather inconsiderately jostled through the hallways, using well-placed elbows and such. I was paying less attention to that and more attention to the statement that had just crackled over the intercom. Talent show tonight. I wondered if Hope was doing anything. She hadn’t told me, and I had never thought to ask. I would never do something myself, but it would be fun to watch her. In the dark and a good way near the back, provided. Finally, I managed to get out of the school, sustaining only a small bruise on my right upper arm where someone had rudely elbowed me. As was my routine, I waited for Hope, but I never saw her leave. Slightly perplexed and more than a little annoyed, (the funny looks people were giving me were making me nervous) I got on the bus before it could leave without me, where I found Hope slumped against the window in one of the seats. Angrily, I opened my mouth to inquire why she was on the bus without waiting for me. But before I could get out more than a grunt, Hope shushed me, pulled me into the seat, and told me she wasn’t feeling well. She did look rather pale (which looked a little strange, her skin being dark and all [we're biracial]) and sweaty. Fine. I decided to drop the subject but didn’t speak to her for the rest of the way home.

It was 5:45, and we were almost at school. I had hoped that Hope would’ve been feeling better by then, but she wasn’t. In fact, she looked even more pale and sweaty. “Hope...are you sure that you coming was a good idea? You look awful." She looked over at me, and I saw a strange mix of worry, regret, and determination in her features. "Faith..." But she was cut off by the engine stopping. We were here. We all walked toward the school, but Hope looked about ready to topple over. As our parents found seats inside, Hope told them we had some business to take care of and that we would be back shortly. Our parents agreed, and, perplexed, I followed Hope backstage. "Hope...what is going on?" She sucked in a deep breath and said, "Faith...I'm really sorry."

"Sorry for wha-," I began to say, but was cut off by a lady in a headset calling, "Faith Davis on in five!" My mouth went dry. I couldn't have possibly heard right...But I knew I had heard just fine. I swung around to face Hope. "What did you do?!?" She held up her hands and backed away, as though I might explode. "Just hear me out...I entered you in the show. Mr. Zonkowski saw me in homeroom and thought I was you. I pretended to be you. He asked me about the amazing essay I, you, had written. He offered extra credit. I agreed, and entered you. Wait!" She said when I was about to angrily butt in. "Just...just trust me on this one, okay? I really, truly think that it would be a good idea." She handed me my folded-up essay from one of my pockets. I looked at her face, and saw she truly thought this would be a good idea. "Faith Davis on now!" I took one last look at her, took a deep breath, went up on the stage...and spoke. The words blended together, and my initial nervousness faded away. When I finished and everyone applauded me, I saw Hope off to the side, and I think her cheers were the loudest.