Identical by Ellen Hopkins Read Free Book Online

struggles for a comeback. I almost
    feel sorry for her, not that she’s exactly
    innocent
    of saying mean things to people.
    Or about people, behind their backs,
    or even worse, where they can overhear.
    Most everyone I know thinks she’s a
    perfect
    bitch. Even her friends don’t like her
    much, that’s my guess. Maybe I’m
    jealous
    somehow. Nah. She’s the one
    with the problem, not me.
    Anyway, the more I remember
    how nasty she can be, the less
    guilt
    I feel about thinking what just
    happened is funny. Still, Ian
    appeared
    just about the time she sputtered
    off. He looked at me like I was
    at fault. Whatever.
    Dramatically,
    I tilt my face toward the ceiling,
    walk by him without a word.

Ian Retaliates
    In his own subtle way, goes
    and sits by Shelby, rotates
    completely away from me.
    I’ve studied this scene, know
    my lines. So why can’t I
    remember a single one?
    Uh, Kaeleigh? You seem
    a bit distracted today, says
    Ms. Cavendish. Everything okay?
    Wonder if Ian…oh, did she
    just ask me a question?
    “I’m sorry, what?”
    Definitely distracted. Get your
    script. You and Ian run lines.
    We’ll block this scene later.
    I slip quietly into the vacant
    seat on the other side of Ian.
    “She wants us to run lines.”
    He nods and Shelby retreats.
    Ian and I crack our scripts
    without exchanging glances.

Eventually
    We reach a romantic scene.
    Onstage, Ms. Cavendish
    has the chorus singing a big
    ol’ production number.
    It’s an unusual backdrop
    for Ian’s and my scripted passion.
    But even with numerous
    vocal errors, corrections,
    and amended directions,
    so many distractions,
    our declarations of love intertwine.
    And even as Madison
    stomps back into the theater,
    to be corralled by Ms. C and
    told to join the others onstage,
    Ian finally looks up, into my eyes.
    Just then the bell rings,
    and as everyone deserts
    the stage, locates possessions,
    escapes the building, he says,
    Sometimes I just don’t know who you are.

Not Exactly
    The words I’d hoped to hear.
    Then again, what exactly
    were the words I’d hoped for?
    Anyway, to be honest,
    sometimes I’m not so sure
    just who I am either.
    So I admit, “That makes
    two of us, I guess.” At least
    when I smile, he does too.
    He offers me a ride home,
    but I opt for the bus. “Maybe
    tomorrow? I need to think.”
    Ian walks me to the yellow
    dinosaur, bends down,
    kisses a sweet good-bye.
    As the bus belches and squeals,
    pain bubbles up inside, an evil
    spirit, demanding escape.
    And by the time I reach home,
    I know I’ve got to uncork
    the bottle, free my evil genie.

It’s Been a While
    Since I’ve really binged.
    Mostly, I guess, because things
    have seemed fairly flatlined
    recently. No major upsets.
    No major downslides.
    But that episode with William
    has bothered me since
    it happened. I let it fester,
    though on the surface
    the blister has popped,
    scabbed over. William didn’t
    cause the infection, he was just
    its manifestation. God, I’m so
    in need of spiritual antibiotics.
    Then the Madison thing.
    She is a major, total shit
    stirrer, vicious clear through,
    and obviously out to shred
    any living thing that stands
    in the way of what she wants.
    On one level, what happened
    in drama was the funniest
    thing ever. I laughed out loud,
    along with most everyone
    else. So why did I feel bad later?

But When It Comes
    To my personal sundae
    of interior upheaval,
    Daddy is the ice cream.
    Raeanne is the hot fudge.
    Mom is the whipped cream.
    And Ian is now, and maybe
    forever, the cherry on top.
    Why can’t he and I find
    a way to accept each other,
    lose ourselves in all-
    encompassing love,
    the kind that can save you?
    The kind that can glue
    all the fragments of two
    broken hearts together.
    Sometimes, every once
    in a while, it feels like
    we’re almost there. Close.
    So close. But then something
    happens, something out
    of my control, and mostly
    it comes from inside of me—
    this terrible black energy,
    wrenching us