Take Another Look (24 page)

Chapter 25

I
n the cold, gray beginning of January, Jane realized that the honeymoon was over. The period of joyous reunion between her twin daughters had ended. Isabel was now determined to outshine her sister in every way, and Harper was rotten with jealousy over her better behaved twin.

Regardless of Isabel's future living situation, Jane wanted the girls to learn how to get along. Wasn't that her ulterior motive in taking Isabel in—paving the way for a lasting family relationship for the three of them? Realizing that all relationships hit bumps along the road, Jane tried to steer clear of the conflict between the sisters. She encouraged each girl to follow her own path and to stop vying with her twin for favor or accomplishments.

And the girls found individual success.

Isabel had been singled out in the fashion and design class and nominated for an award. Every year, Mirror Lake's design teacher Kendra Pollack required her students to design and sew a dress for the popular Molly doll. Kendra then chose the top creations to submit to the toy company's annual competition for the new face of Molly. This year, Isabel's beaded white tank dress with a pink chiffon skirt that seemed as light as cotton candy had been selected. “She's got a fine eye for the flow of a design,” Kendra had told Jane, “and the girl knows how to sew. It's rare for a high school student to have the skills to master working with delicate fabrics.” How Isabel managed a project like that while keeping up her other grades mystified Jane. Besides that, the girl helped every night with dinner preparation and cleanup, and her side of the bedroom was always neat as a pin.

“You're an amazing girl,” Jane told her when Harper was out of hearing range.

Isabel's cheeks flushed pink. “Thanks, Mom. I think I got it from you.”

Fortunately, Isabel's hobbies put no stress on the family. By contrast, Harper's involvement in sports often dominated all their lives, as they ate meals on the fly and spent weekends following the team to games and tournaments. Harper's grades had dipped to Cs once again, and yet the girl was on fire on the basketball court. Although the schedule was demanding, Jane rarely missed one of Harper's games. It was her way of showing support, which Harper barely acknowledged, and it allowed Jane a chance to see her daughter shine a few days a week.

In the thick of a game, it was a wonder to see Harper bob and weave around girls the size of tree trunks. The girl had a knack for finding the holes in the defense and squeezing right through. Fast and low, agile and strong, she danced around the other players and floated into the air, easily lobbing the ball into the hoop. Harper's dance seemed magical—a fluke—and yet she repeated it over and over again against various opponents who simply did not have the speed to stop her.

Harper's explosions on the court sparked pride and joy in Jane's heart. How she loved being in the moment with Hoppy! When her daughter was on the court, Jane was all there for her.

The Seaside tournament was popular among the kids, as it took place in a beach town. That required each team to bunk in at a rented house or hotel, and inevitably the weekend was chock-full of pizza parties, indoor swimming, bumper cars, and ice-cream sundaes.

Mirror Lake finished second in the tournament—the result of a sluggish performance in the final, probably influenced by too much fudge and saltwater taffy. At the awards ceremony the girls were posing for the silver medal photograph when the emcee announced a special award for MVP, voted on by tournament players.

“The MVP Award recognizes outstanding sportsmanship and athletic skill,” the short, balding referee said. “And this year the medal goes to a player from Mirror Lake: Harper Ryan!”

Harper's face came alive as she heard her name. She jogged to the podium and made a short, gracious speech about every girl being a winner. Jane was so choked up, she could barely process it all.

Harper needed this honor—this positive affirmation of her skills and hard work. Hugging Harper close, Jane felt confident that this would set Harper back on the right track.

 

Unfortunately, the euphoria lasted only a few hours. That night at dinner, Harper managed to use her new medal as a put-down of Isabel.

“I know you're proud of your nomination,” Harper told her sister, “but compared to my award, yours is sort of bogus. The fashion award is picked by one person, and sometimes Ms. Pollack selects people she likes. The most valuable player is chosen by her teammates as well as opposing players. It's much more meaningful.”

“Harper,” Jane scolded her. “Both achievements are wonderful accomplishments.”

“I know. I'm just saying my opinion. That's all.”

Isabel stared down at her plate, pushing grains of rice around with her fork. She had the good grace to restrain herself from confronting Harper.

“This is not a competition,” Jane said sternly. Why did two wonderful achievements have to be turned into a contest? “Let it go, Harper. No one is comparing you two.”

“Are you kidding?” Harper stabbed at a piece of chicken. “People compare us all the time. That's all they do. Just because we look alike, those idiots expect us to think and act alike.”

“
Those idiots?
” Jane repeated. “Who are you talking about?”

“Kids at school. They're so annoying.”

“They're not so bad,” Isabel said. “I think they really like you, only they're afraid to try and be your friend. They're scared that you won't be nice to them.”

“That's stupid. I'm nice to everyone.”

“To people you know.” Isabel cocked her head, considering. “But I have an idea that could make you really popular. Did you ever think of running for Snow Queen?”

“Ha!” Harper scowled. “It's not my thing. I don't run in that crowd. All the school committees and student government and stuff. Those people aren't my friends.”

“But they could be.” Isabel's voice was soft but compelling. “I'm going to start a campaign for you, Harper. If people get to know you, they'll definitely vote for you, just like the players in the tournament.”

Harper gave a squawk of rejection. “Not my thing.”

“In any case, I'm really proud of you girls,” Jane said. “You're both amazing.”

Isabel smiled, and Harper held up the medal, which she was still wearing around her neck.

“Do you think I could put this on my college applications?” Harper asked. “I mean, do you think recruiters would care about it?”

“Definitely. That's a great idea,” Jane said.

“Okay. I mean, it's a good way to get a leg up on the competition.” Harper shot a sly look at Isabel, who was finishing her biscuit.

Oh, you little stinker.
Apparently, the competition was not so easily diffused.

 

The girls were both up late that night. Jane quizzed Isabel with notecards Isabel had made for a biology test, and then Jane proofread Harper's essay on heroic qualities in
Star Wars
characters. When the alarm jangled Monday morning, Jane was queasy from lack of sleep. It would be a long day.

After school, Jane was blasting Maroon 5 in her classroom as she graded pop quizzes. Almost done. Then the phone buzzed, and Harper came on with attitude.

“You need to come home and see this, Mom.”

Jane braced herself. “Is the house on fire? Is everyone okay?”

“My iPad is ruined. The corner is cracked, and I can't get it to work.”

“How did that happen?”

“I don't know. I came home from school, and it was on the floor beside my bed.”

“That's a bummer,” Jane said. “How could that happen if no one was there?”

“Actually, I know. Isabel must have knocked it off the nightstand when she walked by.”

Jane winced. “You know that, or you're guessing?”

“It's the only logical explanation,” Harper said, parroting her sister.

“Okay. Look, I'm almost done here. I'll be home in a few minutes.”

“Okay. But don't take her side in this, like you always do.”

“We'll talk when I get home.”

It wasn't even an hour later when Jane arrived to find Harper frantically tearing through her bedroom. The damage to the iPad seemed minimal compared to the clothes, papers, and junk strewn through the bedroom.

“What's going on here?” Jane asked.

“I can't find it.” Harper dumped a drawer onto the floor, then got down on her knees to reach under the bed. “She took it. I know she did. That little bitch.”

“Whoa . . . What?”

“My medal, it's gone.” Harper straightened. “Isabel must have taken it after she smashed my iPad. I can't believe she's that jealous. I'm going to kill her.”

“Calm down, honey. Where is Isabel, anyway?”

“At the library.” Jane remembered that Isabel was walking to the library for a study session after school.

“Did she see the iPad?”

“I told her about it, and she just shrugged it off. But now, with the medal gone, it's proof that she's vindictive and jealous.”

“Not really,” Jane said cautiously, not wanting to tip Harper over the edge. “But it is a little suspect. When was the last time you saw the medal?”

Harper remembered stringing it over the edge of her headboard before going to bed. “And it was there in the morning when I left for school. I remember because I stopped and ran my fingers over the
MVP
letters.” She shifted from one foot to the other, a bit embarrassed by the admission. “You must think I'm really shallow, getting off on a medal.”

Jane shook her head. “It's something you worked hard for, well-deserved.” She rubbed Harper's shoulder, then turned back to the room. “I'll help you look. But first, let me text Isabel.”

As Jane suspected, their search produced no results, and when Isabel got home, she claimed to know nothing about it.

“Why don't you let me help you look,” Isabel said, stashing her backpack in the closet. “I'm a good finder of lost things.”

“Especially when you take them in the first place,” Harper said, folding her arms.

Isabel shook her head. “I didn't take your medal, Hoppy.”

“Don't call me that, and don't lie to us. Tell me what you did with my medal.”

“I didn't steal it.” When Isabel faced Jane, there was innocence in her round, blue eyes. Jane bit her bottom lip, not sure what to think. “Let me have a look,” Isabel said, heading up the stairs.

“Right,” Harper muttered to Jane. “And now she's going to go up and magically find it because she stole it in the first place.”

Jane sighed. “I don't know, Hoppy.”

“Don't tell me you believe her?”

“I don't know what to think right now. But I can tell you that we wouldn't be having these problems if you two would start getting along.”

Harper pressed her palms to her cheeks. “Oh my God, you are on her side again! Ever since she came here you got all distant and closed off. You don't believe anything I say anymore, and you treat me like I'm supposed to give up everything for her. My room, my clothes, my privacy, and my friends—it's all fair game for poor little Isabel, whose mommy doesn't care enough to come get her.”

“Harper! Quiet. You're being hurtful, and if you don't pipe down she's going to hear you.”

“I don't care. I hope she hears me and flips out and packs her bags and goes. It sucks having a sister, especially when she's a manipulative little angel pie. I am so done.”

“Honey, I understand that you're upset, and I'll talk to Isabel. But these things are a cry for attention. Isabel is hurting, and it's my job to help her.”

“By letting her break and steal my things? Big help you are.”

“Of course not. I will have her buy you a new iPad, and I'm sure the medal will turn up soon.”

Harper crossed her arms. “And while you're at it, maybe you can pry her little fingers off my boyfriend.”

“Jesse?” The idea of Isabel's being interested in a pot-smoking, grungy guy like Jesse was ludicrous, but Jane knew Harper would be insulted by that description.

“She was flirting with him outside the band room. She had her hands all over him. What a slut. Nuzzling up to him to tell him secrets and then giving him a back rub.”

“Are you sure it was her?”

“I was there! I saw her from the south-wing lockers. So apparently our prissy little houseguest seems to think what's mine is hers.”

“Things aren't always what they seem to be.” Jane raked back her hair as she considered this side of Isabel she had not seen. “Maybe they were talking about you. Do you think you could have misunderstood the situation?”

“See what you're doing?” Harper snapped her fingers in the space between them. “Defending her again. Thanks for the support, Mom.”

“I'm just trying to sort this out in a rational way.”

“You do that. I can bide my time for three years, and then I am out of here.”

“Hoppy, don't be that way.”

“Yup.” Harper turned toward the stairs. “Three years. But right now, I'd better get upstairs before she steals something else of mine.”

Feeling like a failure, Jane watched her daughter climb the stairs and winced when she heard Harper shouting at Isabel.

The honeymoon was definitely over.

 

That night Jane twisted back and forth in bed, floundering for a solution. If she could have simply purchased a new medal for Harper, she would have done so in a heartbeat. But then, that was probably why Isabel had taken it; the medal had intrinsic value. It was priceless.