I’ve never had my employment thrown back in my face quite like that, and I know I should be offended, but her backlash only makes me laugh.

“What?” she asks, still letting her anger rule her demeanor.

“You,” I say, and she furrows her brow, her eyes zeroing in on me as we near the parking lot. “That’s all I’ve got. Just…you. You’re…I don’t know. You.”

I click twice to unlock my car, then scan the parking lot looking for hers, but soon realize she didn’t drive here. She walked. And it’s dark outside, the sidewalks empty.

“You want a ride home?” I ask.

“I have a boyfriend!” She almost yells it at me, and I work hard, pushing my lips together with every bit of control I have as I try not to laugh.

“Wow,” I mouth. I can see her start to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry. That’s…I know. I’ve met him, remember?”

She nods, rolling her eyes a little. She’s covering, and I’m going to let her.

“I just meant…it’s late. I don’t like the idea of you walking anywhere far—alone,” I say, pushing the passenger door a little wider.

“It’s not far,” she says, her face looking off to the side, her lips hanging open, her breath held along with her thoughts. “But…a ride would be nice. I’m just at the Delta House, on Main.”

“Easy enough. I’ll drop you off,” I say, pushing the door all the way open now. She slides in, her bag and purse on her lap. My car has one of those automatic seatbelts; it’s old, and I’m pretty sure it’s been recalled. Paige lets it fold over her before unraveling it from her purse and bag. Watching her through the closed door makes me smile. She catches me looking and shrugs her shoulders; I jog over to my side, toss my bag in the back, and start the engine.

“Your seatbelts are stupid,” she says, her lame insult catching that nerve in my mouth, making me smile again. It’s funny that those words come out of the same mouth that speaks perfect Spanish.

“So, why do you know Spanish so well?” I ask, doing my best to make small talk during the short ride.

“My dad speaks it. He’s a lawyer, and he’s done a lot of foreign contracts. He was learning the language when my sister and I were kids. So, for a year, he made our house completely bilingual. It made Spanish in high school a piece of cake. I tested out for full credit here,” she says.

“That’s so cool. I would give anything to have that luxury. I think the only thing I could test out of would be wrestling. And that’s not going to happen,” I say. Her eyes widen when I mention wrestling, and I answer the question before she asks. “I’m not on the team or anything. I had a chance…to wrestle in college. But, it just wasn’t the right fit. I want to focus on computer science and programming, and sports take up too much time.”

Her enthusiasm wilts so fast, I’d swear she punched me if I didn’t know there was no way she could get her arm out from that pile of stuff in her lap.

“You have a sister?” I ask. She was already looking out her window when I spoke, but something makes her focus away from me even more.

“I do,” she says, her voice softer. “We’re twins.”

“Wow. Twins. Did you do that thing in grade school where you switch places with each other and trick your teachers?” I ask, and she pulls her things in close to her body, bracing her hand on the door.

“It’s right there. You can just drop me out front,” she says, looking at the brightly-lit brick house, the bushes out front cut in perfect squares, outlining a long, green lawn. I slow as we approach the front walkway. She smiles with a closed mouth as she turns to face me. “Cass and I are fraternal. That wouldn’t work, we’re too…different.”

She reaches for the handle, pushing the door open and stepping out quickly. She turns on her heels at the curb, her hand stretched out, but barely touching the door.

“Thanks for the crash course,” I say, realizing the knots in my stomach from the anxiety over my test are gone—totally gone.

“Thanks for all the sandwiches,” she says, flinging my door closed and walking away. I indulge in watching the sway of her ass, and even though she was doing her best to insult me just then, she lifted the back of her shirt just now, and she knows exactly what my eyes are looking.

After a few seconds of being a perv, I push the car into drive and head home, flipping the lights off before I hit the driveway so I don’t wake up the house. I tiptoe inside, turn the locks, and climb the stairs—smiling at the small light I still see spilling from underneath my mother’s door. All these years, and she still has to wait up for me to make sure I made it home safely.