ava crossed her legs on her bed and glared at her sister slouching in the doorframe. "why are you so excited to get me laid?"

"it's part of our deal," mia replied. "it's the second weekend of college and we're going out."

"it's thursday."

"yeah, thirsty-thursday."

ava rolled her eyes. "sex wasn't part of the deal."

"fine. i won't TRY to get you laid. but if opportunity strikes, you're taking it."

ava cracked her knuckles. "nobody's been... down there... since—"

"they're men, ave. they'll be so focused on what's between your legs, they won't care what's above them."

"i'll have to explain it."

"tell 'em you sold your ovaries on the black market."

"great, we won't need condoms!"

"fine. you sold your bladder."

"that'll get 'em hot." she sighed. the only scars mia had to deal with were the oval burn marks on the back of her leg from leaning against the tailpipe of her first boyfriend's moped two years in a row. a growth spurt left a one-inch gap between the burns. after ava's accident, mia tried to bond by comparing scars.

"it's our first night to go out," mia prodded. "you need to meet our friends!"

"your friends," ava corrected. "did you even tell them about me?"

mia grinned. "i was hoping we could have fun with that."

"absolutely not."

"there's a tri-delt in my chem class named gari-jean. she's a sophomore, but she wants to hang tonight." mia sauntered through ava's bedroom and perched herself at the end of the bed. "she's HARD into track. seriously, it's all she talks about. i told her i don't really do sports... then said i was pretty sure i could beat her in a race."

"it's not happening."

"i already bet her twenty bucks."

"then you better run fast!"

"i'm meeting her at her house at eight-thirty. i'll show up in a dress 'cause it'll be funnier, then we're racing to the little piggy brewery on dickson."

ava shook her head. "i'm not dressing like you. i'm not using your fake ID. i'm not driving alone—"

"the streets are dry. i checked the forecast."

"mia—"

"you're going," she commanded, "or i'm telling mom you're not in school."

* * *

ava's crimson dress was a two instead of four, but it was the only dress she still owned with a duplicate in mia's closet. the last time she wore it was to her junior prom, though it was a bit shorter than a prom dress and not as froofy.

it was disheartening how easily ava blended in at the little piggy brewery as she waited for her sister's track-star BFF: burgundy walls, skinny twenty-somethings waiting for friends... the wooden tabletop was even defiled with a foot-long scorch mark.

a chorus line of liquor bottles stood side by side on the shelf behind the bar. lit from below with yellow lights, they awaited their turn to flip, twirl, and hurl booze into rows of tiny glasses.

a massive vat served as the centerpiece at the front of the bar. it reminded ava of the aluminum barrel outside the creepy shack, except this one was spotless and twenty times bigger.

she tapped her pen against her journal and searched for inspiration in the preppy dive—the gyrating kids, the wheelbarrow of beer—but the words remained mangled in her head.

suddenly, a tiny blond girl exploded through the front door in sneakers and sweaty tee. she shouldered droplets from her brow and used the back of her hand to polish her beaming face. it was mia's friend.

ava stashed her journal in her purse, crossed her legs like a lady, smirked, and caught the eye of gari-jean across the club.

the girl scrunched her brow in total confusion. her lips tensed into an astonished "o" and mouthed, "how the hell?" she marched through the sweaty herd and hopped on the stool beside ava. "that was a straight shot from the house! there were no shortcuts!"

"told ya i was quick."

gari-jean grabbed ava's bicep and looked under her armpit. "you didn't even break a sweat!"

"honey, when you've been running as long as i have, you learn to retain your water."

"un-fucking-believable." gari-jean reached in her pocket, pulled out a wad of cash, and slapped two tens into ava's hand.

"i appreciate it," ava said, "but you can give the money to her." she nodded outside the front window where mia was laughing her ass off.

"wait," gari said. "what the..." she turned back at ava. "who the hell are you?"

"i'm ava." she shook the girl's hand... then noticed mia arguing with the bouncer by the door. "but i need to act like my sister for two more minutes."

bewilderment creased gari-jean's cheeks as ava abandoned her stool, crossed the club, and met mia by the bouncer. "you forgot your license again?" she said, then flashed mia's fake ID.

"see?" mia told the bouncer. "she's my twin and her name is mia."

"brain size isn't always identical," ava quipped.

the bouncer narrowed his eyes at mia. "and what's you're name?"

"ava lane."

he looked at ava, then back at mia, then ava... then rolled his eyes and nodded to the bar. "you girls are gonna get me fired..."

"thanks, mister!" mia shouted, then bounded inside, found gari-jean, and kissed her sweaty blond head. "hey darlin'. i see you met my sister."

* * *

gari-jean was so excited to have twins for friends that she gladly bought the first round of drinks.

"i apologize for mia," ava said over the music. "she insists on living every cliché."

"but twin clichés are adorable!" gari replied.

"not twin clichés. EVERY cliché." she nodded to mia ogling a flock of greek goddesses in pink tees and fuck-me pumps.

gari glared. "are you dissing sororities?" she lifted her knee and pulled down her sock to unveil three triangles tattooed on her ankle. "legacy tri-delt, baby!"

ava's cheeks burned the color of her dress. "i completely forgot—"

gari scoffed. "i'm teasin' you. i know we can be a handful. the parties and events and fundraisers and rallies are INSANE. and the house... let me tell you about the house..."

a round of jäger and gari-jean was still talking like a rolling stone. mia had no trouble keeping up, bobbing her head and interjecting her own semi-relevant anecdotes.

"joining a sorority as a sophomore is next to impossible," gari continued. "the only way you're gonna get in is if you have a shit-ton of friends who like you. you're hot. you've got the money. but that's not enough when you get a late start."

"what can i do?" mia asked.

"be social! come to events with me. throw parties and invite the tri-delts. and most importantly, stay on my good side!"

"you. are. a goddess!"

"that's what i like to hear!" she winked, then turned to ava. "you alive, hon?"

"i'm fine."

"she's worried about running into jeff," mia said.

"who's jeff?"

"her ex."

"god. why are exes always named jeff?"

"he was her boyfriend when—"

ava shot her sister a venomous look.

"—when we were in high school."

"sounds like you need a rebound!" gari said.

"she's too timid."

"i'm not timid," ava snapped.

"frumpy, then."

"i'm frumpy?"

"i love you, sis, but you look half dead."

"she's right," gari added. "you could have any guy in this bar if you'd straighten your back and smile a little."

"listen to gari," mia said.

"twenty minutes ago you were rockin' that stool! legs crossed, flashin' that sultry look like you were posin' for vogue... i almost straddled you right then and there."

"i'm not timid around girls," ava said.

mia slammed her glass on the burnt edge of the table and leaned forward. "listen to me. as soon as a semi-attractive guy walks through that door, gari's going to accompany you to the back of the bar. while you're hiding, i'm going to introduce myself and do all the things that you won't."

ava's cheeks tightened. "i already agreed to the race. there's no way in hell—"

"i'll chat and i'll flirt. if it turns into a sure thing, i'll tell him we're twins and we'll swap."

gari-jean wiggled in her seat. "i can't believe this is happening. i will tie her down if i have to!"

ava pushed her fingers through her hair and dropped her head in her palms. "i should've told mom the truth."

* * *

nolan clarke studied a picture of a dead dog.

the dog wasn't actually dead... it was only a medical diagram in the first chapter of his veterinary anatomy textbook. the pup's stubby legs and square muzzle reminded him of mailbox, his first dog, named for his rectangular head and the ear that raised like a plastic flag.

the dog in the picture wasn't just dead, it was sliced in half to showcase his pastel innards; purple for the muscles, pink for the fat, brown for the organs.

nolan was less than two weeks into the spring semester and he already had a test on a stinkin' friday.

he was studying a diagram of a cat skull when the prettiest voice in the world snapped him out of his trance. "hey there, bookworm."

the real world came charging back; the wonderbread bar, the deafening music, the carnival of booze, his glass of coke, and a girl with straight-black hair smirking at him with hazel-green eyes from across the table. nolan turned off his cellphone work light, stowed his textbook in his bag, and muttered the stupidest phrase that would ever emerge from his lips. "those seats are saved."

"how many friends you got?" asked the girl.

"two."

she looked at the chair on her left, then the chair on her right. "and there's only one of me."

"oh," he stammered. "of course. what's your—"

"i'm ava." she extended her hand.

nolan took it, squeezed, and released. "i'm nolan."

"are you really studying at a bar, nolan?"

"i have a test at ten tomorrow."

"then why are you out?"

"my friends haven't missed a dickson-street thursday in three years. they'll be here in—"

"you're a junior?"

he nodded.

"must be why i don't recognize you."

"you're a—"

"fresh-meat. first semester."

"how do you like it so far?"

"i'm enjoying my freedom." she whirlpooled his coke with his straw.

whenever nolan heard the phrase "button nose," he pictured a real button. but looking at ava, he finally understood. her nose was small (or appeared small between wide eyes), curved upward (but not in a snobby way), and merged seamlessly into tall cheekbones. he wanted to tell her she was disarming, but he was pretty sure she already knew.

ava sipped his straw and sealed the tip with a smudge of red lipstick. she glanced at her phone, grinned, and replied to a text.

that phone case... the silly pink rhinestones looked so familiar... "i've seen you before," he said.

"yeah?"

"you were on your phone outside the communications building."

"i AM a communications major."

"you were upset."

she scoffed. "i never get upset."

"you were moving your hands a lot."

ava's perkiness waned. "it was my sister's ex. he's been hounding her so i confronted him about it."

"you were biting your nails."

her hands recoiled from his drink. "he was giving me a sob story about how my sister's accident affected HIM."

"accident?"

"i wanted to tell him to fuck off, but i also knew how he was feeling."

"i'm sorry... i shouldn't pry."

a moment of silence, then eyelashes fluttered, the smile returned, and ava said, "so. my friend and i are partyin' at my place tonight. nothing's in stone, but—"

"why do you do that with your voice?"

"what's wrong with my voice?"

"the inflection. i didn't hear it the day you were on the phone. it sounds... fake."

"it's called flirting."

"you're flirting with me?"

"well i was."

"there it is again."

"what?"

"your real voice. it's sexier than your flirting voice."

"most guys like my flirting voice."

"most guys like their perception of the perfect girl. i like the real thing."

ava stuck out her chest and cocked her head. "i promise you, nolan, i AM the real thing."

he shrugged. "if you're gonna pretend you're somebody else, you need to practice your facade."

her brow narrowed. "what you see is what you get."

"a cliché? you're better than that."

"maybe i'm a dime a dozen."

"you're a communications major. and since you're already attending classes in the main building as a freshman, that means you took advanced math in high school... which means you're smarter than the majority of the other students who applied... which means the ditz act is—"

"what ditz act?"

"you showed genuine concern for your sister... that means you have empathy."

"it doesn't take empathy to help family."

"last but not least—"

"what was that about clichés?"

"last but not least, a stereotypical girl wouldn't strike up a conversation with a lonely black guy in a bar."

"you're black?"

"and you banter like a writer."

"my sister's the poet." ava's eyes were wet and fiery at the same time, darting between nolan's while the rest of her body held firm. "are you always this charming?"

"my friend gave me an adderall, so i'm definitely on my a-game. any minute now, he and gary are gonna barge in, slug me on the shoulder, and make me look like an ass."

the girl wrinkled her nose as if she was holding back a sneeze. she opened her mouth to speak... then her phone lit up with another text. she scanned it, shoved it back in her purse, and shook her arms as if shedding the last five minutes of conversation. she straightened her back into its practiced poise, reapplied her smile, and exclaimed with the same dishonest inflection, "sooo... i lied to you!"

"about what?"

"my name's not ava. it's mia."

"that's a weird thing to lie about."

"ava's my twin. she's just like me but WAY more interesting."

"i don't—"

"oh," mia leaned in and lowered her voice. "she doesn't know i've been texting her ex, so let's keep that on the down low."

before nolan could respond, three girls were standing before him, two of them lavished in the same red dress, one smiling with counterfeit glee while the other winced, shook her head, and apologized for the ruse.

"do you always dress the same?" nolan asked.

"we were playing a trick on our friend," said the girl previously known as ava.

the third girl waved excitedly behind them.

"sounds like a kid's movie," he said.

the girls sat.

"i really do need to save those seats—"

a fist on his shoulder cut him off. "we can squeeze in!" said dean hoisting a chair between ava (no, mia) and the blonde.

"hey there." mia offered her hand to dean.

dean took it, clasped it, and kissed her knuckle.

"howdy, girls," said gary, dean's other half, dropping his spit cup between the sisters and pulling up a seat. "can someone tell me how this asshat managed to catch three lovely ladies?"

"he was reading a book," mia said, now two seats away from nolan on either side.

dean turned to mia. "he didn't fall in love yet, did he? please tell me my boy did not say, 'i love you.'"

"screw you." nolan kicked him under the table.

beneath their jackets, dean and gary were wearing the exact same button-ups in slightly different shades of yellow; another dress-up day for their frat.

dean introduced the boys. mia introduced the girls.

"gary and gari?" asked the real ava.

"gary and gari-jean," said gari-jean.

nolan liked gary, but he always had the sense that his friend was biting his tongue around him... as if nolan might accidentally slip into a black stereotype and the racism would fly. (or maybe assuming that his hillbilly friend was racist was, in fact, racist.)

dean—twenty-one last november—bought the first round of drinks.

as the group's designated drivers, ava and nolan made due with free cokes.

"are you identical?" dean asked. "'cause you look identical."

"yessir," mia said.

"who's older?"

the girls shrugged. "parents never told us."

"you're kidding," said gari-jean.

"they figured it would give the older one a superiority complex, even if we were only a few minutes apart."

nolan was already annoyed at the onslaught of obvious twin questions... he couldn't imagine how the girls felt.

gary hocked tobacco in his solo cup and wiped his mouth. "have you two ever..."

"ever what?"

"you know... done stuff?"

"what the hell, gary?" dean scolded.

"porn?" mia asked.

ava leaned forward. "you've known us ten minutes and you want to know if—"

"it's the twin thing!" gary exclaimed. "and the names... mia and ava lane? that's BEGGING for a porno!"

"well, gary-with-a-y... no, we've never considered it. and as much as it might lift your tiny pecker, it ain't gonna happen."

"don't insult my friend," dean said. "he may not be able to hit the bottom of a skol can, but he can sure-as-hell wear out the sides!"

the girls covered their faces and grimaced. nolan rolled his eyes.

any subtext from the female half of the conversation soared easily over nolan's head, but the male subtext was spelled out for him over a series of obnoxious texts.

"these ladies are hot," gary typed.

"the blonde is built," dean said. "but seems like a nail-on-the-head sorta girl."

"they're trying to hook me up with ava," nolan typed. "but i like mia."

"dude, THEY'RE TWINS. hit the one on the left and forget the other. or better yet... six-way!"

"so," mia said, "our place is twenty minutes away."

"we're down for anything," said dean, arm around mia and more than a little tipsy.

another text from gary. "if the six-way doesn't pan out, i got dibs on the sad one."

"jesus," dean typed. "no dibs."

nolan silenced his phone to shut up his friends, then returned his attention to mia.

she made eye contact so briefly that a less-attuned man might have missed it, but nolan caught her gaze in that fraction of a second, froze time, and searched for the girl behind the laugh.