Never Said Read Free Page B

twins who do the same things even if they’re in different states, thousands of miles away.
    â€œIf you’re on time,” I say. I hate to drive. I only do it if I must.
    Annie has a habit of being late. This used to be her only flaw — that she was late everywhere. Now, sometimes, she doesn’t even show up.
    â€œYou’re still in jammies.”
    â€œSo are you.” Annie chews. Swallows. Winks at me in this over-exaggerated way. Like winking is normal.
    I can’t help it. I smile. “Where’s the Cap’n Crunch?”
    Annie turns till she’s almost looking at me. “Mom hid it in the lazy Susan. She’s watching out for me.”
    â€œOf course.”
    A gust of wind hits the house with a slap. And then, like thewind brought it, Annie says, “Stop torturing yourself, Sarah.” Her voice is raised, like she’s trying to talk over the cries of winter.
    I step toward my sister. Change my mind, because what would I do if I sat next to her? Instead I grab the cereal box and gather a bowl and milk and a spoon. Take a deep breath, think. Answer her.
    Somehow I know what she means, but I pretend I have no idea what Annie’s talking about. “What?”
    My next breath catches somewhere in my chest.
    â€œIt’s eating you alive.”
    I can’t nod. Don’t swallow. Refuse to think.
    â€œLet him go. Don’t give him that power.”
    We stare at each other a good fifteen seconds. The only light in this area is over the bar where Annie sits. I smell the eggs and browned butter and think, Why does she have to know how I feel? We’re twins separated by a thousand miles and she knows how I feel.
    â€œForget him, Sarah.” She’s whispering now.
    I’m on autopilot. No longer want to eat. I put everything away. Make myself a glass of milk chocolate Carnation Instant Breakfast.
    I can’t look at Annie.
    How? How can I not think of Garret? How do I forget him?
    â€œI don’t want to forget,” I say. The words fall out of my mouth like chips of glass.
    â€œI get it.” She nods. “I do.”
    We’re quiet again and I change my mind about where to sit. Move to the chair right next to hers.
    â€œI get it.”
    There is no way she understands how I feel. I know for a fact. She’s had more boyfriends, dates, flings, meaningful library romances than all her girlfriends combined. Resentment wants to put up a wall between us.
    â€œI have something else I need to talk to you about,” she says.
    â€œNo more.” I hold up my hand. I should have chosen strawberry. Maybe that wouldn’t taste like liquid cardboard.
    â€œNot about you.” Annie licks her fingers. She’s a study in eating, the way the light shines on her. “It’s been nagging at me.”
    I swallow the rest of the drink. Will I throw up? I have to calm myself to keep from gagging, breathe through my nose to stay in control.
    â€œI was awake all night,” Annie says. “Thinking. Worrying about something Mom said.”
    â€œOkay.” My voice is thin. My breath releases.
    Annie’s hands tremble, “Not now. Later? Maybe at lunch?”
    We haven’t eaten together at school since sixth grade. This must be something momentous, if Annie is willing to hang out with me at school. Like there’s a broken window somewhere in the house, I feel a blast of cold.
    â€œSure,” I say, and work to steady my heart.

sarah
    M y sister knows too much about my feelings. I hate that. But I love it too.
    Mom has never once asked me why Garret doesn’t visit anymore. She hasn’t stopped outside my door at night, given me any looks of concern. Maybe she doesn’t know I cried (still cry) because he broke up with me. Does she even know it happened? Does she care?
    Sheesh. Saying it makes me sound like an idiot. An idiot girl who loves someone who chose not to love her back.
    I hurry upstairs to get