It's Just a Twin Thing Part-6

It's Just A Twin Thing
Part Six


Jordan and his sister, Jess, are twins, some think identical
because they look so much alike. They used to fool a lot of
people when they were younger but the differences became
apparent as they got older or did they?



Author's Note:I am no longer on track with this story as much as I used to be :(. I had the next two chapters already written but I hated the way they turned out so I deleted them. Now I have to completely rewrite both. So that's going to delay things quite a bit going ahead now. I hope to have Ch.7 completely rewritten by next week but I have a cold right now so things might be slow :(.




It didn’t take me very long to call Tiff as soon as I got home. I rushed right up to my room and told her everything. She congratulated me for making the team but…

“Wait, he thought you were your brother?”

She didn’t wait for me to reply. I could hear Tiff’s laughter on the other end of the phone. She laughed for quite a bit too. I almost hung up on the bitch. Then she fell silent. For a second I thought she laughed herself into unconsciousness.

“You done now?”

“I think so,” she said with a giggle.

“Good because I really need your help.”

“Ok,” she said, still with a bit of a giggle. She took another moment to compose herself. “The way I see it, you have two options. Both of them you’ll hate but I don’t see any other choice”.

“Lay them on me”

“Option number one, you quit the team”

“I really want to play. I mean what’s the point of doing all this in the first place then”

“You’re not playing, though. You’re reserve. The coach might put you in if he’s desperate enough but I can’t imagine that happening”
Reserve was basically the “you’re good enough but not that good” position. On the girls’ team being put on Reserve would have been an insult. Being put on Reserve for the boys' team---at least for me---was amazing. I knew I wasn’t as good as those guys. They were bigger, faster and stronger. The fact that I was able to keep up with them this morning was a shock. To quit now defeated the whole purpose of everything. I wanted to play soccer. Even if it meant warming the bench all season. I also wanted to stick it to the school as well. Even though they wouldn’t care, it was the principle of the matter.

“Smart ideas, remember?”

She laughed.

I know I was hard on her a lot but Tiff really was one of the smartest people I knew. She could be a little thick sometimes but she meant well. Tiff was actually a straight A student, way smarter than me. At DCH you needed to maintain at least a B average to be in sports. I barely made it most of the time. Tiff was an Honor Roll smarty. She just seemed to embody the dumb blonde stereotype way too well sometimes.

“Ok so Option Two is even crazier then,” she said with another laugh.

I sighed.

“Hey Bozo stop laughing and get to the punch line”

“Its real simple actually. They think you’re your brother so why not pretend to be him”

I had actually thought about that. Well for a split second. I say a split second because well it was the stupidest idea I’d ever heard. Of course, I’d done it many times but we were like six. It was easy for two six-year-olds---brother and sister---to pretend to be one another. It was all about clothes back then. We were pretty similar then too. Now though there were quite a few factors. For one thing, I had boobs and he didn’t. For another, he had something between his legs that I was definitely lacking. It would be pretty awkward showering and changing in the locker room without one of those. The most important thing about pretending to be him was him.

There can’t be two Jordans running around.

I laid it all out for Tiff.

When she didn’t laugh, I grew concerned.

“Tiff, I can’t be Jordan”

“Why not?”

“I told you why not dumbo”

“All that is superficial”

“How do you figure?”

“Ok so let’s break it down one at a time,” she said, putting on that thinking cap of hers. “One your boobs. I hate to break it to you Jess but they’re not very big”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I said, embarrassingly covering my little bumps.

“Its not a bad thing. All girls develop at different stages. It works to our advantage, though”

All of that was easy for her to say. Her’s were like C cups or something.

“I don’t like where this is going”

“Remember that movie from well a long time ago?” she asked “you know the one. With that group of girls from the 60s or whatever. Then it flashforwarded to when they were adults. Well, that girl in there, Christina Ricci’s character…”

I remembered. She and I watched it once at one of our many slumber parties.

I also knew what she was thinking too.

I groaned. “There is no way I’m wrapping myself like that!”

“I’m not saying wrap yourself. There’s not enough there to bind down actually. I’m saying we just get a tight sports bra and you layer your shirts. Maybe a tank over a tee or something. The illusion of being flat chested”

It wasn’t much of an illusion in my case. I practically was.

“Yeah well what about down below, Miss Smarty Pants?”

“We stuff it”

“We what?”

“We get a sock or something and stick it in your underwear. It’s all about the illusion”

The crazy thing was, she wasn’t talking crazy. I read this article online once for class about this girl who wanted to be a boy. It got me intrigued so I looked it up a bit. There were girls out there who did this kind of thing. Ok so not pretending to be a boy to join a soccer team but actually doing things like that to make themselves appear to be boys. Ironically enough there was also a movie about a girl who pretended to be her twin brother and joined the boys' soccer team as him. That actress who went crazy was in there. Amanda What’s Her Face.

“The rest of it is pretty simple. Its clothes and things. You can borrow your brother’s”

“You’re forgetting a few things,” I said, trying to state the obvious.

I could almost see her rolling her eyes when she spoke next.

“Ok so shower when you get home and change before you get to the field and after everyone else leaves”

“What about Jordan?”

“We don’t have to tell him”

“Umm I think he’s going to notice if there’s two of him around”

“Umm isn’t there technically two of him anyways?’ she asked. “I mean have you looked in the mirror lately? You know how often I mistake him for you and vice versa. Especially from behind. You two are practically identical. Especially with that hair.”

“And how exactly do we hide the fact that he’s on the soccer team? You know, from him!?”

“We don’t tell him”

“Umm Tiff, someone can’t be on a sports team and not know about it”

“He will technically be on the team. You’ll just be him. Look, Jordan doesn’t go to any games, right? He doesn’t usually follow the teams? I’ve seen him read the school newspaper. He usually browses the front of it and tosses the rest in the garbage. You said so yourself, you’re not actually going to be playing much anyways. Reserve means bench warmer usually. So you go to the game, sit on the bench and watch from the sidelines. There’s no attention drawn to you.”

“That’s really paper thin”

“Yes but still very doable”

I hated Tiff when she used her Tiff logic on me. Sure it was doable but it was also very dangerous. I’d get creamed by the school if they found out. I’d also get creamed by my parents. Not to mention how much Jordan would freak. It was absolutely crazy. The craziness of it all was exciting though too. It was like the prank of the century, well from a certain of view. It was also a huge political statement. The school was antiquated in their rules. There was actually a policy that stated that girls or boys were not allowed to play sports on the opposite gender teams. Even if there was no team for their specific gender. So no boy cheerleaders for instance.

It was a Title IX lawsuit waiting to happen.

This would be like me taking a stand for girls everywhere.

It also means giving the finger to the Board and especially to McGuire.

“Tiff, let’s do it!”


The next part of our plan hinged on my brother not being home.

I opened my bedroom door and called his name. There was no response. It wasn’t enough though. So I walked the few feet to his bedroom door and knocked. When he didn’t answer, I banged on it. Jordan hated it when I banged on his door. I waited a few seconds to see if he was going to come running to yell at me. When he didn’t, I knew I was alone. That meant I was alone in the house for hopefully a few more hours. Mom was known to spend hours at work on the weekends and Dad usually stayed at the club when golfing, sometimes for hours as well.

I had the whole house to myself.

I texted Tiff and told her the cost was clear.

While I waited for her to arrive, I went downstairs to get my workout clothes from the laundry room. Thankfully they were in the dryer waiting to be collected. The tiny running shorts and top were perfect for soccer practice. Except not so much for the boys team. In order for this to work, I’d still have to use Jordan’s stuff. Which meant I’d have to swap mine for his just in case. I knew the odds of him actually wanting to use said clothes were pretty slim but I couldn’t take that chance. Besides, I knew he never actually looked in the bag in the first place. He’d never know the swap had taken place.

The other clothes would be harder to borrow.

A knock on the door made me run down the stairs. I opened the door quickly, grabbed Tiff’s arm and yanked her inside.

‘That was quick” I said.

“You said hurry”

She was panting a bit so clearly, she ran here. Tiff only lived around the corner so it wasn’t much of a run.

I dragged her up the stairs and we used the bathroom to get entrance to the dweeb lair once again. My brother was starting to get paranoid or something. Did he think someone was going to steal something? Ok so steal something else. To be fair, he never knew I was stealing so I’m off the hook.

“This place is…”

I rolled my eyes. “Ignore the decor Tiff, we’re on a mission”

‘Right, sorry Captain” she said with a stupid salute.

“You check his closet and I’ll look through his dresser”

I didn’t want my friend rifling through my brother’s underwear drawer.

Hey, a boy needed his privacy.

“What are we looking for?”

I shrugged. “ A couple of shirts maybe, some shorts”

Definitely some underwear.

We needed to provide the illusion after all. His workout clothes were good but we wanted to have some backups just in case. The real thing we needed though was his underwear. I opened the top drawer, finding it full of rolled socks and boxer briefs. I grabbed a pair of each. Hopefully, Jordan wasn’t one of those OCD guys who would notice. Looking around the room, though, I could tell he wasn’t. He wasn’t a slob by any means but he wasn’t a neat freak either. There were clothes on the floor and magazines laying about here and there. Clearly, he wasn’t into organizing his junk.

‘Nothing good in here” said Tiff from the closet a moment later. “All of it is dress shirts and pants. Most of it though looks brand new”

“Probably is. J.C., doesn’t dress up much”

Ok, so I still called him J.C. from time to time.

I opened the drawer where he kept his pants. I knew I was never going to need to wear any of his jeans but I liked to cover my bases. I grabbed a pair. Everything I took I decided to replace with an item of my own. Well, not the underwear of course but the shirts, pants or shorts. It was an insurance policy. In case you know he noticed and asked Mom about it. They could ask me, I could pretend to look and see yes I somehow have some of his clothes. It’s actually happened once or twice before. Usually with shirts. Jordan had a lot of band shirts but he also had a lot of plain colored ones too. The fact that he wore a small or medium worked in my favor.

I swapped two white shirts with two white shirts and traded a pair of my jeans for his.

I think that was plenty.

‘Let’s go before we get caught” I said, making sure everything was left the way we found it.

Back in my room, I tossed my borrowed booty on the bed.

“You need to redecorate too,” said Tiff with a critical huff.

There was nothing wrong with my room.

Ok, so it looked a bit like a boy’s room what with the sports posters and trophies. Most of the posters were of female athletes, though. Hey, the walls were pink at least. I never was overly fond of the color, to be honest. It was one of the few hold over’s from Tracy’s time living here. This was once her room after all. Also from Tracy was the barely used vanity against the far wall and the floor length dressing mirror. In the other corner was a never used doll house. Most of my dolls and stuff animals were either stuffed in the closet now or in storage.

“Ok this is just a trial run,” said Tiff, taking charge. “Hop into the bathroom or whatever and put some of that on. We’ll see what we have to work with”

I groaned, suddenly feeling like I was in one of those TLC fashion shows.

I did as I was told, though.

I was glad she told me to go to the bathroom, though. Tiff knew me well. I always had problems dressing in front of other people, especially girls. I was very self-conscious about my body. Well, most teen girls were I think. It was different with me, though. Tiff and a lot of the other girls had gone through puberty when they were like eleven or twelve. I guess it wasn’t heard of to be a late bloomer. Hell Tracy was fourteen. It was a little weird when you were sixteen and still had the body of an eleven-year-old though. Thankfully the pills were helping a bit. I was taller now and I was putting on some nice muscle mass. My boobs and hips were growing too if a bit slowly. Ok so maybe only my boobs and only I think because of those enhancement pills.

I was at least a 32 AA now.

Small but getting there.

Mom and Tracy were a bit on the small side though too. Mom’s were currently a bit enhanced. She refused to let me do it to myself, well at least until I was eighteen anyway. She offered Tracy the same deal but my sister was happy with her 34 B. Tracy always said if she wanted them to appear bigger, there were ways to do that with surgery. Actually, in one of our rare sisterly bonding moments, she actually gave me the bra enhancements I currently used.

“You done yet?”

“In a minute,” I said.

I quickly stripped off my clothes, trying to avoid the mirror. Like I said, not a fan of my boyish body. I pulled on the briefs first. Should I be concerned that they fit so well? It was also fairly comfortable. I kinda liked the little bit of leg they had as well. I had thought about getting boy cut panties more than a few times. Unfortunately for me, Tiff and I did most of our shopping together. She has told me on several occasions that she is not going to be friends with someone who doesn’t wear real underwear. She was kidding of course but still made sure I wore the “normal” kind.

Pulling up the jeans, I was scared.

They fit really well.

Too well.


Putting on one of the white tees, I finally turned to look in the mirror. What I saw scared the hell out of me.

Standing there, staring back at me, was Jordan.

Not the normal Jordan either.

A more boy looking one.

Tiff knocked gently on the door. She didn’t say anything though as she entered. I started to tear up a bit.

‘Its not fair” I said, sobbing.

She hugged me from behind. “Its ok honey. It will take time. You’ll get there”

I tried to stop myself from crying because Flynn’s didn’t cry around people. Except Jordan. He cried. Ok so only when he got hurt but still. I remember when he broke his wrist and grandpa was all like “Flynn’s aren’t supposed to cry” and grumbling. Mom ripped him a new one over it but grandpa just seemed to shrug it off. Then he got a little peeved at Jordan for crying at grandma’s funeral. The guy was an ass. Especially when he didn’t seem to care if I cried. I hate him for that. It was ok that girls could cry but not boys? Sometimes I begin to wonder how my father was ever raised by that man.

“You want to change back?”

I shook my head, wiping my eyes. “No, I’ve got this. We need to see to right”

She nodded, squeezing my shoulder a bit.

I left the bathroom with her and went to stand in front of my dressing mirror.

Boy Jordan was still staring back at me.

I say Boy Jordan because well real Jordan was only maybe Half.

I hate to be mean but it’s true. My brother and I didn’t get along but I promised myself to never say anything harsh to him about the way he looked. Sure I hated that he was prettier than me but I knew he had similar problems. He was trying to be a boy as much as I was trying to be a girl. We were both taking pills too. His boy pills were just as important to him as my girl ones were to me. We’d both get there, in time.
“So what do you think?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way?” she said with a sheepish grin. “But you’re kinda cute”

I feigned being offended. “Only kinda cute?”

She laughed. “Ok very cute”

She said that in a soft tone.

There was a look there for a moment, reflected back at me in the mirror. I’d seen that look from her before. It was gone a second later.

“You ok, Tiff?”

‘I’m good” she said, clearly forcing a smile.

Tiff was slow to open up about things. I knew she was suffering from something but I wasn’t going to pry. She’d tell me when she was ready.

“You think I could pull it off?”

She grinned wickedly. “I don’t know,” she said “Let’s go find out”

Wait, what?

She grabbed my arm before I could protest and dragged me out of the room.

Dad was actually coming into the house as we got downstairs. We nearly collided with him.

“Hi and Bye, Mr. Flynn,” said Tiff, still pulling me along.

“Where are you two going?”

“Out,” said Tiff again.

Dad laughed. “Ok have fun”

I was flabbergasted that Dad didn’t even notice I was wearing Jordan’s clothes.

I was even more flabbergasted that I wasn’t protesting more.


‘This is a really bad idea”.

We pulled into the parking lot. I slouched as low as I could in my seat so no one saw. I couldn’t believe I let Tiff drag me out dressed like this. If any one of our other friends saw me like this, I’d never hear the end of it. I’d be a total laughing stock at school on Monday.

“Stop hiding, it’s not like we’re at Leo’s”

True enough.

At Leo’s they were definitely bound to notice.

I made her take me to the Steamy instead. It was a local coffee shop, favorited more by some of the older kids. It wasn’t as crowded as Leo’s and they did make a really good frappuccino knock off. Tiff and I tended to like to hang at Steamy’s anyways. It made us feel cooler. Plus I wasn’t a huge pizza fan and Tiff always bitched about carbs. Tiff was always dieting or at least said she was. She was actually pretty thin. Healthy looking but thin. The only fat on her was in her boobs.

She had to practically drag me into the shop, though.

I would have dug my heels into the floor if I could. It was marble so, therefore, impossible.

She made us sit at our usual table. A two-seater near the window.

“Don’t move!” she ordered. “I’ll get us some fraps”

She left me alone. I wanted to kill her.

“Hey Jordan,” said a familiar voice.

I cursed. I forgot Mark worked here.

I turned and looked at him. He was looking very good today in his blue barista apron.

‘Hey Mark” I said, nervous as all hell.

‘I don’t usually see you in here and definitely never with Tiffany”

“She needs my help,” I said, lying quickly. “She’s got a thing for Craig. I’m trying to help her”

Shit, sorry Tiff.

‘That’s cool. Well, I gotta get back to the work. See ya Monday”

Mark walked off to wipe down the empty tables around us. I found myself watching him work. My eyes darted to his butt more than once.
Damn it.

Tiff came back with our drinks a couple of minutes ago.

“I saw that,” she said with a little smile.

“You saw nothing”

“Uh huh,” she said knowingly. “So what did Mr. Coffee Boy want?”

“Well to say hi to Jordan,” I said with a grunt.

“See, its working”

‘I guess so” I said “oh and FYI, you’ve got a crush on Craig now in case anyone asks”

‘Wait, what?”

“I had to explain what we were doing together. I panicked. It was the first thing I could think of”

“He’s the cute bass player right?”

“Yeah…wait…Eww Tiff”

I wanted to gag.

“What I like them tall, pale and mysterious”

I really wanted to gag now.

Then I remember something and laughed. “Well, you are his type. He has a thing for blondes apparently”

“Oh do tell”

I laughed as I told her the story I overheard the other day. “Apparently some blonde babe flirted with Craig at Teddie’s last month. Now he’s scouring the city looking for her”

We both had a good laugh.

We laughed about other things too. People came and went. Some of them from our school. No one twigged on me, though. Either they didn’t care or they didn’t notice. Like Mark, they probably thought I was Jordan. We did get one strange look from Rachel Brown. She was in a few of my classes and she sometimes sat with Tiff and I at lunch. The whole time she was there, Rachel stared at us. I tried to pretend I didn’t notice but I did. I told Tiff about it as soon as Rachel was gone.

“She didn’t think you were you. She would have said something otherwise”

“Then what gives”

“She was probably wondering what the hell I was doing here with your brother,” said Tiff with a laugh.

“Like Mark,” I said with a groan.


Crap. Rachel was a big gossip. I just knew come Monday there was going to be a rumor about Jordan and Tiff on a date at Steamy’s. This was bad, this was really bad. How the hell was I going to explain it?


“Don’t freak out?” she said, clearly reading my facial expressions. ‘Let them think whatever they want. If someone asks me, I’ll just say it was the two of us and Rachel was mistaken”

Tiff to the rescue again.

She gave my hand a squeeze then had a laugh at my expense.

I joined in a second later.

I was still really scared though. This was all a little too intense. Specifically, because I’d been sitting here for over an hour---in my brother’s clothes---and I didn’t feel awkward about any of it. Sure they weren’t all that different from my clothes but I should have at least felt something. I mean I was pretending to be a boy and I was feeling fine about it? There was something really wrong about that. There had to be something wrong about that.

‘Can we go now?”

Tiff frowned. “Sure”

She took my hand again, this time not letting go until we got the car. I sulked the whole way home. When she dropped me off, I mumbled my goodbye to her. As soon as she was gone, I raced into the house. In my room, I couldn’t get out of Jordan’s clothes fast enough.

This was just too much.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF

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