My Twin Sister’s Extremely Famous and Incredibly Hot Neighbor

I restart my camera for the tenth time. I keep fumbling and messing up. I’m not sure if it’s my nerves, or if I’m just not in the right headspace to teach a class, but I feel like I’m trying to force something.

I take a calming breath and start in on my lecture once more. This time it flows better, and I’m able to get through most of it without messing up. The small things I can edit out later. I talk about light fastness and permanency, how some paints are opaque while others are transparent, and how to work with both kinds.

It’s an update from an earlier class I’d already recorded and uploaded to the teaching portal but originally did with lower quality paints. Now that Jera had bought me a whole new set, I wanted to show the students how these paints work.

I finish with my class a half hour after my goal time, which frankly isn’t that bad in my book. I can edit the video after I get home. I’ll need something to sink myself into anyway. I already know I’ll be a total mess.

I text Dustin that I’m done with my class, and I rush to get ready to spend the rest of the day with him. He texts back right away.

I’m thinking of a lunch picnic. Sound good?

Sounds perfect.

I gather up my things, and I feed Squint before we head over to Dustin’s house. The workers are still finishing up in the back yard as I walk between our houses, but it’s looking great. Jera will be so pleased. You can’t even tell there was ever a fence on her property.

I walk to Dustin’s back patio and climb the steps. I can see him inside his kitchen preparing for our outing, and I take a moment to appreciate the view. No one has ever made jeans and a t-shirt look so good. He turns and smiles when he sees me.

“Hey,” he says after opening the door. Squint runs in and drinks from his fancy dog fountain.

“Hi.” I step inside. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Sure. I’m just packing up everything.”

I look at the spread. He’s got salads, sliced apples, peeled cuties, and an assortment of veggies with a hummus dip that looks amazing. He’s packing things into a wicker picnic basket. I grab a Ziploc baggie and start putting the carrot sticks inside. “This all looks delicious.”

“And healthy. No cheesy mashed potatoes today.” Dustin pats his abdomen, even though there’s no fat on his body anywhere.

“That’s okay. Jera—” I stop short, realizing what I just said.

Dustin looks at me funny, and time seems to slow. My pulse races. I have no words. I was going to tell him that Jera wants me to be on a strict diet until the photo shoot tomorrow, but of course, I can’t tell him that. He’s still looking at me funny, so I have to finish somehow.

“Jera shouldn’t be eating all those calories anyway,” I say, patting my own stomach, and pretending I talk about myself in third person all the time.

“Is that a Seinfeld reference? Jimmy likes Elaine.” He laughs and shakes his head. “That’s such a great episode.”

I giggle, even though I don’t know what he’s talking about. It sounds forced, and I make myself stop. “Where are we going to picnic?”

He points to his backyard with his chin. “I thought we’d just go outside to the gazebo.”

I hold in a squeal as my inner child gets all excited about eating in the romantic gazebo outside. One of my aunt’s favorite movies was The Sound of Music, so I start picturing Liesl and Rolfe in the rain. Too bad he became a Nazi. That sort of ruined the romance of it all. Anyway, I tamp down my excitement and calmly nod at him. “That will be fun.”

We finish packing the food and Dustin opens the refrigerator. “Do you like sparkling water?”

“Yes.”

He hands me a can of Liquid Death and takes one for himself. “I think we’re ready.”

I grab the picnic basket and we go out of the sliding door. Squint happily follows us. The workers are finished with Jera’s yard and are leaving as we walk to the gazebo. Dustin slides a chair out for me. “Here you go.”

“Look at you, being such a gentleman.” I set the basket beside me on the wooden slats of the flooring.

Dustin bows. “I try.”

I open the basket and pull out a tablecloth that was tied to the lid. As I shake out the tablecloth, Dustin pulls out the plates. Squint curls up beside us.

“How did your class go this morning?”

I scoff. “I had to restart the thing a dozen times, but once I got going it was fine.”

“What made you have to restart?”

I open the apple slices and grab a few for my plate as I try to find the words I want. “I was having issues getting into the right mindset. I think I was too distracted.”

Dustin grins at me. “Am I the distraction?”

I know he’s flirting with me, so I give him a small smile. “Probably.”

He laughs and opens his can of sparkling water. “I’m glad it’s me. If it were some other dude, I’d have a bruised ego right now.”

“Just a bruised ego?”

“No.” He takes a sip of his drink. “I think I’d have a major jealousy problem.”

Heat rises to my face, and I’m sure I’m blushing. I grab a carrot stick and dig into the hummus. I shove it in my mouth. “Mmm,” I say.

My phone vibrates, signaling a text has come through. I pull it out of my pocket and look at the message.

Hey, sis! Just wanted to let you know I scheduled a full body wax for you tomorrow morning. You’ll need it before the photo shoot.

I breathe in quickly and a piece of carrot goes into my lungs. I cough so hard I start hacking up a lung as Dustin pats my back like my Mom used to do when I choked on something.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod, still trying to cough enough to get out whatever leftover junk is in my lungs. “Wrong pipe,” I manage to say.

“I hate when that happens.” Dustin glances down at my phone. “Did you get bad news?”

When I finally get myself under control, I nod. “Something like that.”

I send a text back to my sister.

Full body wax? Why do I feel like you’re not telling me something. What do I have to wear during this photo shoot?

I wait for her text. Dustin opens the lid on his salad. “Everything okay?”

“I hope so,” I say, still staring at the phone. Jera’s not texting back, and my heart sinks to my toes. Finally, my phone vibrates again and her message appears.

You’ll be doing an ad for a razor.

It doesn’t escape my notice that she didn’t answer my question. I shoot a text back.

Wearing what? A swimsuit?

It takes a moment for her next text to come through. When it does, all the spit in my mouth dries up.

A towel.