The ups and downs of life.

It was yet another morning waking up early. Yet another day to look forward to. I took my shower with a racing heart, anxious to be at school as soon as possible. That anxiety worked against me when I realized a little late that my shirt was turned over. I also had a hard time finding my belt, which was always right on my bed. I felt dumb and clumsy. Almost tripped on the way down the stairs. But you couldn't get rid of my smile if you tried.

I made breakfast again. It was becoming routine, and I had to admit I was starting to like it. Had to **** myself to focus on the task, though, lest I burn myself while frying eggs.

Mom came down a few minutes after. She saw me and didn't say anything as she took her seat at the kitchen table, but she had a smile on her face all morning. It was enough.

Isabelle came down just as I had everything ready. She looked as drowsy as always and mindlessly had her breakfast.

"So? What are your plans today, Oliver?" Mom asked.

"I… don't know," I said, blinking. "I don't have plans, but… maybe someone will invite me to hang out?"

"You should try inviting them, too. Show that you're interested instead of only waiting for people to approach you."

That… made sense, unsurprisingly. It wasn't something I would've dared to do before, but now I had people I was sure enjoyed spending time with me. Why not be the one to start things?

"I might do that. Whatever happens, I'll text you."

"Good."

I think the rare event of a morning conversation between mom and I woke Isabelle from her usual drowsiness. She blinked, rubbed her eyes and looked from mom, to me, and back at her without saying anything.

I finished eating and got up. I left my dishes in the sink and got ready to leave.

"I'm going. Good luck at work today," I told mom.

"You too, dear. Remember what we talked about."

"I promise."

By now, Isabelle looked awake. She wolfed down the rest of her breakfast and rushed to follow me. "I'm going too! Bye mom!"

"Huh? Oh. Bye!"

I closed my eyes and grimaced as I came out the front door, my twin sister right behind me. I mentally steeled myself. Isabelle had no reason to leave so early other than to pester me.

"Hey," she started, walking beside me.

"Hm."

"Why have you been leaving home so early?"

How to answer without being confrontational and not telling the truth?

…

…

I can't. I couldn't come up with anything. Lying is too hard.

"I'm meeting my friends early."

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "Your friends?"

I sighed. "Mila, Grace and Sarah."

Her eyebrows shot up and she looked at me in disbelief. "OK, seriously. What's going on between you? Why are you letting them play you, Oliver? You're not stupid."

Lying doesn't come naturally to me. It's really fucking hard for me to lie, and even when I do, I feel like crap for it. But you know what's not lying? Misdirection.

"If I were you, I'd be more worried over the fact mom knows about you bringing your secret boyfriend home."

"W-W-Whaaat!? You TOLD her!?"

"I didn't." I shrugged. "You threw his underwear in the wash and tried to pass it as mine, didn't you? Did you forget mom buys my clothes?"

Isabelle facepalmed hard. "I'm screwed."

"You are. Why did you even do it?"

"...You wouldn't understand, Oliver."

"No, I think I do." I sighed. "Now, at least. I understand, but that doesn't excuse you from breaking mom's rules. And doing it while I was there? Right next to my bedroom? Were you that ****?"

Isabelle's face burned with the strength of ten suns. "W-What would you know?"

I smiled wryly. I knew. I knew the feeling. I knew how difficult it was to hold back when every fiber of your body screams with need. I should be more understanding now because I knew. But… I could still hear her, and it… made me uncomfortable. I had no business meddling in my sister's love life, but I couldn't help the sting in my chest whenever I remembered. It filled me with petty resentment.

"Seriously, what's with you?" Isabelle asked, her voice almost a murmur. "You're changing."

"About damn time, too," I answered. "Or did you want me to stay a pathetic shut-in for the rest of my life?"

Her eyes went as wide as plates. "I didn't…!"

"You moved on, Isabelle. You made your choice. You decided to make your own friends over staying with me. It's hard for me to blame you, but I won't say it didn't hurt to hear you call me lame just to be on your crush's good side."

Isabelle flinched and her step faltered, making her lag behind me. "Y-You remember that?"

"Huh. So do you, it seems. So you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"That was… I was a dumb kid, Oliver."

"And you're still a dumb kid now?" I shot back.I stopped and turned around to face her. I felt like I was trembling inside, my hands felt shaky and so did my legs. And yet, despite the fact that Isabelle and I were practically the same height, I could've sworn I was looking down at her. "You distanced yourself from me because you thought I was lame, because your 'friends' told you I was lame. And you know what, they were right. I would've accepted that from anyone, Isabelle, but from you?" My voice was a few words away from cracking. "You were the only person I could trust, and then you went and did that. I can accept criticism from anyone, but not from you."

Why was I saying all this? Why now? Did it have anything to do with what we were talking about? I didn't know anymore, but the gates had opened and I simply let everything out. Things I'd been bottling in, things I thought I'd gotten over but clearly hadn't. My heart was racing painfully. I didn't like this. Despite saying exactly what I wanted to say, I hated it.

I expected Isabelle to say something back. To shout something at me. Excuses, reasons, to tell me her version of the story, to tell me I was wrong and she was right. But she didn't.

Her pursed lips quivered. Her shoulders shook. Her eyes glittered with the threat of tears, yet her brow was furrowed in… anger or frustration. And instead of blowing up in my face, she stomped her way past me towards school.

I stayed there for a long moment. I didn't want to follow her. I took my phone and sent the girls a text, saying I might be a little late.

There went my good mood.