9
Jojo
I push open the bathroom door without knocking. It’s open a little, so I figure the privacy rules don’t apply. Right? You only have to knock and wait for somebody to say “Come in” if the door’s closed. I cross my arms. I have to look up at her because she’s taller than I am. A couple of inches taller. She’s going to be tall like Dad, I guess. I got Mom’s short gene, apparently.
“I take a shower at six thirty in the morning,” I say. I don’t even try to say it nice. “So . . . I guess you’ll have to get up earlier or use the downstairs shower or whatever tomorrow. This is my bathroom. Was.”
She doesn’t turn to look at me. Instead, she looks into the mirror at me. She’s holding a toothbrush. She’s wearing a pair of ratty gym shorts and a T-shirt that says “Tulane” that looks new. I wonder if Dad got it for her. He didn’t bring me anything today.
“You take a shower at six thirty in the morning on Saturdays?” she asks. Like I’m stupid.
I forgot tomorrow is Saturday. Saturdays, I don’t shower at all, unless I’m going somewhere. Now I feel stupid. “I’m just telling you.”
She keeps looking at me by way of the mirror. She’s really pretty. Not blond pretty like me, but she’s got shiny dark hair like Dad’s. Longer than mine. And her skin is so perfect it’s disgusting. I have to go to a dermatologist. Zits everywhere if I don’t use my special soap and stay away from dairy.
We just keep looking at each other, like we’re both frozen. I wouldn’t have known she was my sister if I’d gone into that coffee shop. I can’t help thinking, Too bad it wasn’t me instead of Mom. I know that’s not the right thing to think, but from the look on her face, I get the idea she’s wishing right now it was me instead of Mom, too.
She finally stops looking at me. She turns the water on and runs her toothbrush under it. I still stand there trying to think what to say. Dad says she’s definitely my sister . . . our Georgina. DNA testing. I wonder if that’s true. I was planning on binge watching a couple of episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or maybe The Vampire Diaries on Netflix, but maybe I’ll do a quick Google search. I mean, what if someone did make a mistake? It could happen.
“You hurt Mom’s feelings today, you know.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize it. “At lunch.”
She’s still running the water over her toothbrush. She turns it off. She’s looking at me again and it occurs to me that she looks a lot like Elena in The Vampire Diaries, which sucks because Elena is so beautiful. That’s why both of the vampire brothers are in love with her, of course. Her dark beauty. I wonder if Georgina has a boyfriend. Had. She was going to a public school. I’m sure Mom’s not going to let her have a boyfriend. Ursuline girls don’t have boyfriends. That’s what Miss Gerard says.
“About wanting to go home,” I say, my voice turning mean. “To your mother. Because that woman who stole you, she was your kidnapper. She’s not your mother.”
She presses her lips together like maybe she’s going to cry. But she doesn’t.
“All she’s wanted, for as long as I can remember,” I say, now feeling as if I’m the one who’s going to cry, “is for you to come home.”
She looks down at the sink. Puts her toothbrush down, even though she hasn’t brushed her teeth, and walks out of the bathroom. Right past me. She goes down the hall, into her room, and closes the door. She doesn’t slam it. She closes it very quietly. Which seems louder in my ears than any slammed door.