Lydia and I were precisely six minutes apart.

My sister was the older twin. I was the younger one. We hadn't been born identical, but DNA still found a way to copy-paste our faces—only our faces and nothing else—in an almost interchangeable manner.

Same eye shape. Same nose. Same mouth. Lydia and I even inherited the exact same shade of our Filipino mom's black-brown hair and dark eyes and a slightly lighter complexion from our German dad.

This, however, was where our similarities ended.

Even though we were twins, most people found Lydia to be the more attractive one. I had to agree with them. Her skin glowed like bronze and warmth and sun-kissed summer days. Mine was simply... beige. Her confidence made her eyes shine brighter. Her easy smiles and quick wit drew everyone to her. It probably didn't hurt that Lydia was built like an IG model. My sister had curves and dips in all the right places—while I still looked like a prepubescent teen girl at the age of twenty nine.

Everything about me was simply less noticeable. Smaller.

Smaller personality.

Smaller frame.

Smaller boobs and butt.

I guess I could be considered pretty on days when I put in the effort. It was amazing what a full face of makeup and a nice pair of heels could do for a girl. They possessed the power to morph an average five or six into a solid seven or eight.

Still, there was no doubt in my mind: At my very best, I couldn't hold a candle to Lydia on her worst days.

Everyone recognized Lydia's brilliance—including our parents. They tried to keep their preference a secret from us, but I had long ago accepted my fate as my sister's shadow.

Unquestionably, Lydia was the golden child. The smart one. Smart enough to skip the entire fifth grade. After my sister left me behind and tested into sixth grade at only ten-years-old, the differences between us only deepened and widened as we grew older.

Lydia had one year left in her residency program. Then, she was finally going to achieve her lifelong dream of becoming a surgeon.

I was an accountant.

It was fine.

I was proud of Lydia. I loved to see her soar, and I was afraid of heights, anyway. Maybe this was why Lydia and I managed to remain close after all these years. She was hard headed and strong-willed, and, luckily, I was soft enough to roll with all of her punches—even when it hurt me to do so.

Lately, though, I was beginning to wonder if I was really as laid-back about Lydia as I claimed to be.

I thought of Gray again.

✦

"I know it's you."

"What?"

"The snacks. I saw you putting them in my backpack yesterday morning."

My mouth went dry. I was suddenly too nervous to speak.

Gray reached inside his pocket. He pulled out a tiny, perfectly folded white paper crane and offered it to me.

"Take it. I made it for you."

Eyes wide, I took the crane from him.

"Thanks," he muttered before walking away.

✦

Gray was the first person who ever truly saw me, the real me, and appreciated me in all my ordinary glory.

Back when we were still kids, still young, dumb, and in love—he made me feel special when, it seemed, the rest of the world only had eyes for Lydia.

Now Lydia was pregnant.

With Gray's baby.

And here I was—still lurking in the shadows.

Every time I thought about the two of them together, it made me want to retch.

Fuck Lydia.

Fuck Gray.

Fuck them both for putting me in this fucked up position.