Free Identical by Ellen Hopkins Page B

ethereal. It makes   me shiver as all up
and down my arms,     a colony of goose
bumps lifts. And       suddenly, a jab
    of jealousy
nails me in the gut.

Envy Surges
    Scarlet hot through my veins.
    I mean, the woman is like
    eighty-two years old or some
    thing. Why should she know
    love when I don’t? When I can’t?
    She’s only got a few years
    at best. Why should they be warmed
    by love when my own coming
    decades are doomed to frigidity?
    Greta’s beau shares the dinner
    table with a half-dozen old
    women, but he sees only her.
    And she sees only him, despite
    the banter and pleasantries exchanged
    all around and between them.
    I can’t help but watch through eyes
    tinged green. Then Greta laughs,
    from the heart, like she has laughed
    with me, only sweeter. And suddenly
    I am ashamed. No, horrified, at myself.
    How could I think that way?

That Was an Incredibly Bad Scene
    Like looking inside myself
    and finding a stranger,
    someone not only vicious
    but downright
    evil.
    How odd, to suddenly
    glimpse a facet of me
    I didn’t know existed.
    I guess it really
    isn’t
    all that unusual to surprise
    oneself with an ugly bit
    of ego. But was this
    unsuspected piece of me
    born
    at the same instant I was?
    Or was it spawned some
    time between that moment
    and now? I know, I know
    it’s
    a question with no answer,
    undeserving of introspection.
    But was this hideous thing
    conceived, or was it
    created?

Raeanne
    Kaeleigh Takes Herself
    Way, way too seriously.
    Everyone has a secret side,
    one that’s not so nice. But
    evil?
    I prefer to reserve that
    designation for presidents,
    terrorists, and Madison.
    Okay, I guess the bitch
    isn’t
    really evil either. Too stupid
    for evil. Oops. That lets presidents
    off the hook too. Terrorists are
    rarely stupid, but even they aren’t
    born
    evil. But you know, preach it—
    whatever “it” is—loud enough,
    long enough, someone will buy in.
    Witness Jerry Falwell. Ask me,
    it’s
    a sin to pervert faith with religion.
    Despite every church, mosque, and
    synagogue in it, this is not the world
    any God worth his salt would have
    created.

But Whatever Created It
    It’s my world, the only one
    I’ve got. Might as well make
    the best of it, right? Might as
    well have a little fun while
    I’m here. Or a lot of fun.
    Might be dead tomorrow.
    I’d call Mick, but he’s out
    of dope, and anyway, he’s
    an irritating prick. Stupid,
    too, all ranting about how
    he’s going to sue the sheriff’s
    department for stealing stash.
    I told him to shut up and think
    about it, and hopefully he’s
    doing exactly that about now.
    I do know a few other people
    who might have some bud.
    But the one who comes first
    and foremost to mind is Ty.
    He gave me his number,
    for the next time you
    find your mouth watering
    for a hot red lollipop…
    Yeah, he’s totally disgusting.
    Why do I like men that way?

Oh, and Guess What
    He answers his phone first ring,
    and he isn’t busy at the moment.
    Lucky, lucky me. It’s a school
    night, and I might very well hear
    about not coming straight home, but
    hey, if I go straight home, I won’t
    be going out tonight. No-brainer.
    I wait for him at a little convenience
    store, and about the time I grow
    impatient, a sheriff’s sedan cruises
    by, reminding me I do not want to
    be caught in the backseat of a car
    in a compromising position. Turns
    out that’s not a problem. Ty whips
    into the parking lot, in a blue BMW
    Z4 convertible. Top down. No back-
    seat. We won’t be smoking or making
    out in this stunning little car.
    He smiles at the look on my face.
    Get in. How ’bout we take a little spin?

Zero to Sixty
    In five point six seconds, says
    Ty. Seemed faster to me. I love
    the way acceleration presses me
    back against my seat. But what’s
    really interesting is that Ty can afford
    this car at all. Might as well just ask.
    “So what do you do, anyway?
    Or are your parents loaded?”
    He smiles and settles the car
    into an