It's Just a Twin Thing Part-5

It's Just A Twin Thing
Part Five


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:Ok its Monday and its Ch.5 time. The story I think was building to this point, at least for Jordan. We're going to see some things here, he's going to realize some things about himself that he's been hiding or ignoring. I really like this chapter a lot too. Oh my plan is to have the majority of this story done by Halloween. I have a Halloween story planned in this "Just universe" which i'm hoping can tie into this one.




“Jordan, sweetie. Did you take your pill?”

Mom was at the bathroom door, knocking gently.

The pills in question in my hand. I swallowed them quickly with a swig of water. The pills were supposed to help with my hormone unbalance. Which was kind of ironic all things considered? I mean if the pills were supposed to help then why did I have breasts? Staring in the mirror, looking at my naked chest, I couldn’t help but frown at what I was seeing. Boys weren’t supposed to have those. Well ok, technically they could have them but were they supposed to be like that? I’d done some reading on it of course. I knew all about gynecomastia and how some boys got it when they entered puberty. But I wasn’t like most boys.

Thanks to my imbalance, I didn’t start puberty until last year. Even then it was because of the pills. Jess and I were rare apparently. It took a battalion of doctors nearly two years to figure it out too. Then nine months ago, they decided that they needed to jumpstart things medically. So that’s where the pills came into play. Each of us was given a shot and then prescribed pills to help our bodies produce hormones of their own. The hope of the doctors was that the pills would kick start something in our bodies and push things the rest of the way.

Well, something was definitely kick started in me.

Though I’m not sure I liked the results.


Mom was still on the other side of the door apparently.

“I took them, Mom,” I said in a reassuring tone.

“Ok honey. Come down to breakfast when you’re done”

I waited and listened for her to leave. As soon as I knew she was gone, I left the bathroom. I bolted down the hall to my room. Locking the door behind me, I let out a sigh. It was getting harder and harder to hide things. The funny thing was I’m not even sure why I was hiding it. Dad was a doctor after all. I’m sure he could help me figure this out. I mean I was probably not the first boy he’d seen with breasts. According to Google, it was actually pretty common. Though most of the boys in the pictures I’d seen were a bit overweight and their “moobs” didn’t really look like mine. For one thing, they just looked like boys with well man breasts. Me, I looked like a prepubescent girl.

They weren’t getting any smaller either.

I didn't want to go to the hospital about it either.

I have this thing about hospitals. When I was younger, I was a bit sickly. When I was born, I was underweight and put in an incubator for about a week. Even after that, the doctors were concerned I might have problems. I was in and out of hospitals for a few years, getting a battery of tests. Many of them were concerned about the slight little boy who was rather thin and very weak. Thankfully by the time I started school, things evened themselves out. My fatigue went away and my grayish pallor vanished. There was some concern about a heart condition but when all tests came back negative, the hospital visits stopped.

I lived a normal life. Well, that is until this whole imbalance thing was discovered.

The thing about it though is that I developed this horrible fear of hospitals. I was scared that whatever happened to me back then would come back. The whole time I was there with the hormone thing, it took Mom holding my hand to keep me from hyperventilating. So you can see why I was so reluctant to tell them what was going on. As soon as they found out, it would mean more doctors and possibly more hospitals. I just couldn’t do that again. So this needed to go away.

That’s why I started taking two pills instead of one.

My hope was that a double dose of testosterone might make the bumps go away.

So far no such luck.

In fact, they looked bigger.

I didn’t know their exact size but I knew they were already starting to strain in one of Jess’s sports bras. Yeah, I wore my sister’s bra. I didn’t really have a choice anymore. They were that big. I knew from conversations I overheard that Jess was a 32 AA. I looked it up online, that’s a pretty small size. Like me, though, she had to use pills to jumpstart her puberty too. So it was only natural for her to be quite small right now. What wasn’t natural though was the fact that I was bigger. How do I know this? Well her sports bra wasn’t the only thing I tested.

Her tiny training bras didn’t fit me either.

Staring at the offending things on my chest right now, I wanted to cry.

That was another thing too.

I was doing a lot of crying.

Too much.

I was an emotional wreck all the time. I almost burst into tears last night at Leo’s. What with Tara having all new friends and things. The only thing that kept me from doing so was Chuck of all things. Thinking about it now though just kinda pissed me off. Were things supposed to be like this?

I stopped staring in the mirror and decided to get dressed for the day.

I went to my underwear drawer, reaching far into the back to get the sports bra I kept stashed there. It was the only one she wouldn't wear, pink. Mom bought them in a set for her but she refused to touch it. In fact, I found it in the trash. So I knew she wouldn’t miss it. I took it on a fluke. I was going to use it to tease her later on but fate it seemed had other plans. It was a good thing because I definitely needed it. Pulling it over my head the first time had been a pretty strange thing. Now I could do it without thinking but that first time I was scared at what I saw. I knew I looked like a girl. I knew I was a dead ringer for my sister. I didn’t grow my hair long to copy her like she thought. I did it for my music. I did it because I liked the way it made me look.

I think a small part of me liked being mistaken for her too.

It made me feel popular like her.


Here're the tears again.

Wiping my eyes, I quickly pulled the bra over my head. I got it on like a pro. A master con artist applying his craft. Except there was no con involved here. As soon as the bra was on, I got the second part of my disguise. Online I read about some girls who used ace bandages to tie their boobs down. Usually, they were tomboys like Jess or girls who wanted to be boys. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I browsed through some of that stuff too. I was also very thorough when I did research in school for projects and things. My father always said, “if you’re gonna do something, do it right”. So I have always been one to cover all my bases.

So not only did I know about female to male transgendered individuals. I knew about male to female too. I also knew a great deal about those who were asexual, intersexed and everything in between. Like I said, research. I was conflicted about it all too. Especially about those boys wanting to be girls. I saw nothing wrong with them of course. In fact, they were by far the bravest people I’d ever seen. The girls wanting to be boys were too. My confliction came with myself. I couldn’t help but wonder if I might be like them as well? When we were younger and we pretended to be one another, I had no problems whatsoever slipping into the role of my sister.

Even after Jess started her new girlier lifestyle, I still pretended to be her.

Well at least in private anyway.

Did that make me want to be a girl too?

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.

Mom again.

“Honey, I have to go into the office. I’ll probably be there all morning and afternoon. Dad is off on the course, your sister is at the school. I left the bacon for you on the table. Will you be all right by yourself?”

I loved Mom but she treated me too much like a kid.

“I’m sixteen Mom,” I said with a bit of annoyance. “I’m not Kevin McAllister”

“Well you have my cell number”

I rolled my eyes.

One of these days Mom was going to have to let me grow up.

As soon as I heard her leaving, I realized that the binding wasn’t needed. At least not right now. I only ever bound them when I knew others weren't going to be around. With my family gone until the afternoon, I had the house to myself. That meant I could just wear the bra and not worry about having to hide. It was a pretty rare occasion. At school, I definitely wore the bandage and most of the time I did around the house too. I could get away with the occasional hoodie or baggy sweatshirt, though. It was getting easier now because of the weather changing. I couldn’t wait for Winter which was ironic because I used to hate bundling up.

I definitely hated sweaters. In fact, all of them were stashed away in my bottom drawer never to see the light of day.

Pulling a t-shirt over my head, I proceeded to put on a pair of shorts. I was getting a little fat too. Well, at least my butt was. I think maybe I might have to finally use those workout clothes Dad bought me. Maybe I’d even take him up on his offer to go running with him in the morning. I definitely did not like the idea that these shorts---which were baggy last year---were really tight now. In fact, they were even getting hard to button. Laughing at it all, I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and went down the stairs.

The house was all mine.

In the kitchen, I found Isis on the table, trying to steal my bacon.

Oh yeah, Isis is our cat. I didn’t mention her earlier because well she hates me.

She was one of those Egyptian cats. Mom spent a boat load of money on her. I didn’t really know the details because well I didn’t care. Dad and I weren’t really keen on her, to be honest. We both wanted a dog but Mom seemed to think they were too much work. At least that’s the excuse she used. I think she just wanted her stupid two thousand dollar cat.

“Mine stupid,” I said, pushing her violently on the floor.

She gave me a dirty look before bolting out of the room.

Ok so it might seem mean but the little Satan did a lot worse to me.

I had the scars to prove it.

Taking what was left of the bacon, I went to the living room and dropped on the couch. I grabbed the remote and found some good Saturday morning cartoons. It was still only nine, plenty of time to catch up on all my favorites. I lost myself in them. For the next two hours, I sat there like a vegetable, lounging about on my day of rest. I didn’t have to do anything or be anywhere until much later. I was so engrossed in my toons that I totally blanked when the door bell rang.

“It's open!” I shouted without thinking.

There was only one person it could be after all.


It took me a second or two later to realize what that meant.

Shit, Tara and me like this.

I tried making a mad dash for the stairs but she was already in the house.

“Hey Jess,” she said with a little disappointment in her voice. “Is your brother around?”

Shit and Damn It.

Oh what the hell.

Shifting my weight---doing my best Jess impersonation---I turned around to face her.

“The dweeb is out with his dweebettes,” I said, mimicking her voice perfectly as well.

It wasn’t that hard actually. We sounded pretty close.

Tara gave me that look. It was the same one she always gave my sister. I hated to lie to her like this but I just couldn’t let her see me like this. The shirt I was wearing was white and the pink sports bra was visible through it. I didn’t really care when I put it on because well no one was supposed to be home. God, I’m such an idiot. I wasn’t ready to expose myself like this to my best friend.

“You mind if I wait for him?”

I opened my mouth to say no but found myself saying, “Who cares?”

Tara snatched the remote from my hand and went into the living room. I followed because well I really didn’t want to let her out of my sight. I also needed to get rid of her.

“Why do you do that?” she asked as I dropped down on the couch, as far away from her as I could.

“Do what?”

“Put your brother down like that. He’s not a dweeb. He’s awesome”

Thanks, Tara. I think you’re awesome too.

I almost said it as well but bit my lip. I was Jess at the moment.

I shrugged. “I guess I’m a bit self-centered and jealous”

She was too. There were a few other choice things I could say as well. I just knew Jess wouldn’t say those things about herself. Admitting she was self-centered, hell she did it all the time. She had one of those egos. She wanted everyone in the room to notice her and admitting her flaws was one of the ways she did that.

Tara smirked.

This was really awkward. I pulled my knees up to my chest in a feminine manner. I’d seen Jess sit like this more than once. I even found myself sitting like this from time to time. It was another one of those little feminine things I did without even noticing I suppose. Like sometimes crossing my legs or the way I brushed the hair behind my ear. These were the things that the guys would tease me about constantly. That’s the only reason I knew I did them. They would mock me mercilessly when they caught me doing it. Of course, I would always tell them that having a twin sister, you tended to pick up her mannerisms without even realizing it. I’m not sure if it was a lie or not but it fit because they always gave me sympathetic pats on the back after I said it.

We sat in silence for a long while.

I didn’t really have anything to say. Well actually Jordan would have had plenty of things to say but Jess not so much. My sister hated Tara. I think deep down she blamed her for ruining our bond. To be truthful, I think that bond was ruined long before Tara came on the scene. If I was being honest, I’d say Jess ruined that all on her own. Of course she’d probably never admit it. If you asked her, she’d probably say it was my fault. She tends to paint the past a little differently now. According to her, it was always me who wanted to pretend to be one another. In truth, it was actually always her. She was always the more aggressive one and could talk me into doing anything she wanted.

We were always brothers. She was J.D. and I was J.C.

When Mom and Dad put a stop to it, she found a new person to boss around in the form of Tiff. I will admit I hated Tiff for a long time. That changed when I found Tara. After she came into my life, I didn’t really care what my sister and her dumb friend did.

Speaking of Tara.

“You know I think I’m just gonna leave actually,” she said, getting up. “When your brother comes home, tell him to call me”

I nodded like a dumb idiot. I started to stand up with her when I realized that that was not something Jess would do. She wasn’t the polite one who showed our guests to the door.

Tara rolled her eyes and headed out toward the kitchen. She was almost to the door when it opened by itself.

In walked Jess in all her glory. Strangely enough, wearing my work out clothes.

I was so going to go down on her hard for sneaking into my room to take them.

Well later.

Right now, I wanted to crawl into the deepest hole and die.

“Jacy?’ asked Tara, giving her a weird look.

“Do I look like my brother, Hick Girl?”

I dropped to the floor so Jess wouldn’t see me. Tara snapped around, her eyes narrowing. She walked back into the room. Jess was already going up the stairs, grumbling about everyone being idiots today. I tried to make a break for the stairs too but Tara was faster.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said, getting a hold of me.

Me, I felt the tears.

Before I knew what was happening, I turned around and sobbed on her shoulder. Stupid crying, stupid everything.


Tara let me cry it out.

I never was one to cry much when we were younger. I did cry when my grandmother passed away, though. We were in sixth grade. Grams had been sick for quite some time. Cancer. Everyone knew that eventually, she was going to leave us. They’d tried every treatment that money could buy. My grandfather wanted to continue but she was done with it. She told him if it was her time then there was no use trying to fight it. So they made her comfortable at home. A week after her declaration, she was gone. I remember it vividly because it was the first time I’d ever seen a Flynn man cry. My father and his brother were besides themselves with grief. My grandfather---ever the stoic man that he was---fought it up until the end.

Afterward, Gramps took me aside and gave me one piece of advice:

“Jordan, my boy,” he said, putting on his businessman hat. “Crying is not something to be ashamed of. Every person cries. What you should be ashamed of though is letting others see you do so”

He was referring to an earlier incident. The only other time that I could actually remember breaking down. I was eight. Jess and I were goofing off in Uncle Connor’s backyard. They had this wicked jungle gym back there. Jess was trying to prove that she was better than us---meaning myself and my cousin Cherry. To prove her point, she was going to race each of us on the monkey bars. Gramps was watching us and he told me that a “Flynn man never backed down from a challenge”. So I accepted. Jess was always stronger and faster than me. Halfway through the race, my fingers slipped. When I hit the ground, I landed on my left arm.

I broke my wrist.

I remember that day for two reasons. One because I was bawling like crazy. The other because I’d never seen my mother so angry. Nor had I ever seen anyone speak to my grandfather in that manner. She ripped him a new one for being reckless and idiotic. My father and my uncle had their turns at it as well. Gramps later apologized for pushing me into it. He did, however, chastise me for crying.

I couldn’t help but think of Gramps and those two times as I sobbed uncontrollably on my best friend’s shoulder.

“Jacy?” Tara spoke softly in my ear. “Do you want to go to your room and talk about?”

All I could do was nod. She took me by the hand and led me upstairs. I felt like a small child being led to bed by his mother. When we got into my room, I made sure to lock the door. Fortunately, whatever crying fit I had a moment ago was gone. I wiped my eyes and sat on the edge of the bed. Tara stood there for the longest time, just staring at me. There was motive and method in that stare. I could see her eyes roaming my body, taking in everything that she saw. The more she looked, the more I could see she was calculating. Tara wasn’t an idiot. I think I mentioned that before. I could see it now. She knew something was wrong with me.

“You want to tell…”

I cut her off. “No, but I’ll show you”

Very slowly, I pulled the shirt over my head. Tara looked at the pink bra for a second. There was a hint of amusement on her face. That hint vanished the moment I pulled said bra over my head. The amusement vanished to be replaced by utter shock. I knew that face well. It was the same one I had when I noticed the itch in my chest was more than what I thought it was.

“Jacy are those?’

I nodded. “I thought it was a fluke at first. I looked it up online. Gynecomastia they called it. Boys get it during puberty”

She nodded. “Yeah, they talked about it a bit in Health class”

I inwardly groaned. I wish I had remembered that. Tara was always good with those things.

I nodded, fighting back the tears. “The only thing is, it’s supposed to go away with time. Tara, this started shortly after you left and it’s not going away. They’re getting bigger!”

That shocked look came back.

“Are you sure?”

I shot her a look of my own. The “Uh duh” look.

“What do your parents think?” she asked but knew the answer before she even got finished with the question. “Your hospital fear. You haven’t told them?”

“I didn’t want them to freak or worry. I still think I can get this to go away. I’ve been taking my pills. Hopefully, this will all clear up and it will be nothing but a laugh in a few weeks”

Tara smiled weakly at me. “Can you do me a favor?” she asked in a soft voice, I nodded. “Can you take your shorts off for me?”

Wait, what?


“I’m not trying to seduce you dumbo,” she said with a giggle. “I want to see something. Something important”

Reluctantly I did as I was told. The short intake of breath from her a moment later was not promising. My shorts were now down around my ankles. I looked down, trying to see what she was apparently. All I saw were my fat hips and the slight swell of a butt that was in serious need of exercise. Tara didn’t say anything. Instead, she took a step forward and grabbed my hands. Very gently she moved my hands up my body to my breast buds then down, tracing my body until she stopped at my knees. At first, I had no idea what she was doing then it clicked.

Oh shit.

How had I not seen that?

“Light bulb right?”

I wanted to cry again. I managed to nod instead.

This was fucking mind blowing. It wasn’t just my chest. It was my body. My whole body. The worst part is that I noticed but was in denial or something. Of course, my hips were a bit wider and my butt was fatter because well it wasn’t really a boy’s butt anymore. I turned to my little wall mirror and took a step back. I finally saw what she’d seen. What others have probably been seeing for the last year or so? There was not a boy reflected back at me. I’m not sure when it happened or how it happened but the girl looking back was in a total state of utter shock. The only thing that told me I was still a boy was the small bulge in my boxer briefs. I say small because well I’d never really been all that big, to begin with. Now, though, it was definitely smaller. Had I noticed and ignored that too? Were there other things I was missing as well?

“How long have you said this has been happening?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, ten, eleven months maybe?”

“You’re sure?”

I nodded. “It makes no sense, though. I mean I’ve been taking my pills, in fact, I’ve been doubling up on them the last few months”

“Let me see them”

I went to my bedside table, opened the top drawer and took out the blister pack to show her. I only had a few pills left now. We were nearing the end of October. Halloween was little more than a week away. I was good on the pills, though. Dad had worked out a deal with the doctor. He prescribed them to Jess and I every six months. I still had two months worth of pills to use. Of course taking them twice a day was dwindling them down by half so well technically I actually had a month left. Give or take a pill or two. It was ok though because honestly, they didn’t really feel like they were working anymore. If anything, it almost felt like the pills were making things worse.

Tara was holding the blister pack, scrutinizing the greenish blue pill inside.

“200 milligrams?”

I nodded. “The dose was increased back in June. The doctors were concerned that Jess and I weren’t showing any visible results”

Tara nodded and handed the pills back.

I put them back in my drawer.

“I’m not sure but if you say they’re not helping, maybe you should stop taking them?”

I’d been thinking the same thing myself actually. I had planned on stopping this morning but with Mom breathing down my neck about it, well it was hard to do so. I hated lying to my mother too. Sure I was keeping all of this a secret from her but lying about the pills just seemed more severe. Ok, so my priorities are a little off at the moment. I guess the whole “girl body” thing was the bigger lie. It didn’t really matter, to be honest though because I was in it pretty deep right now.

“I know you might hate this but I really think we should tell your parents”

I nodded. I’d been thinking that as well.

I was just too much of a coward to do so.

I was afraid of what they might say or do. I’d read some of the horror stories online. I knew how some parents reacted to their children being different. I know Dad was a doctor and pretty liberal about things. Mom was super liberal about everything. I guess my biggest fear was them looking at me and pretending to sympathize and help but in truth were secretly disgusted by me. It scared me to death that my parents might reject whatever was going on and stick me back into the hospital. I definitely did not want to go back there.

There was another factor in all of this too.

The timing was just plain awful.

Mom and Dad had literally gotten married twenty years ago this month. In fact, next Friday to be exact. They’d been planning this super big trip for their anniversary. They’d been at it for months. It was only going to be for four days. Tracy was gonna take some time off school and come “babysit” us while the rents were away. The idea of me telling them all of this now. I just couldn’t imagine ruining their trip.

“Can it wait until after their trip?”

Tara gave me a long, hard look but in the end, she nodded.

“No, later, though. This is serious. You need someone to figure out what the heck is going on here and fast. It’s like you’re going through puberty but opposite”

We had a bit of a laugh.

It made me think, though.

We fell into a bit of silence after that, though. Neither one of us knew what to say. I could see Tara wanted to say something, though. I knew what she was thinking. It was the same thing I’d been thinking. It was that notion nagging at my mind since well long before all of this began. It started all those years ago when we first met and she mistook me for the “nicest and prettiest girl she ever met”. Of course, when I told her I was a boy she was shocked and didn’t believe. It wasn’t until after I revealed myself to her that she believed. Even then though she still treated me like her very best girl friend. It didn’t seem all that odd to me either. Even the slumber parties. We just felt like two friends doing what two friends were supposed to do.

But were we actually two girls the whole time?

“I’ve been thinking about something,” she said after some moments of silent reflection. “I’ve been thinking about it a long time actually. And I was wondering…”

I sighed. “You and me both”

She smiled awkwardly.

“You want to see?”

I was confused.

“See what?”

“If you and I are correct or not?”

A large part of me wanted to say “No way!”, scream it as loud as I could in her face. The small part of me, though---the more powerful one at the moment---she wanted to say yes.

It was ultimately her who nodded her head.

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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