Cleo Burns -D6- -fin-

On the court she was a beast. Off the court she was a queen. One that wore cherry-red lipstick and could spike a volleyball over the net with enough force to knock someone’s teeth out. Which she had.

But that girl had had overlapping front teeth anyway, fucks sake, Cleo had done her a favor. And she’d had the audacity to get mad? Bitch please, next time don’t catch the ball with your face if you care about your crooked pearly whites that much. Cleo never apologized. Apologies were for people who were in the wrong.

Was she supposed to feel bad for Scarlet Hyde? The girl who’d tried to hide a scarlet stain? Really, the comedy wrote itself. She'd printed the pictures out, Clara had helped her stuff them into lockers, and everyone had gotten the joke, except for the girl herself. Lame. It was Scarlet’s fault for not shaping up. Not toughening up.

And for not being her own person and just trying to imitate her betters.

Poorly at that.

The only person that came close to being Cleo Burns was Clara Burns. And not just because she had the same perfect hair and eyes the same shade of blue. Just ask their parents.

“Hey so—“

“Shh, the movie's getting good.”

It was difficult, talking to her parents. It felt like they glossed over her accomplishments on the field half the time because her grades weren’t as good as her sisters. Grades.

Honestly.

All because little miss perfect was a fucking nerd to boot. She supposed on the plus side, it meant that she was under much less scrutiny than her twin. Their parents didn’t particularly care if she was throwing parties and staying out all night as long as they were focused on making sure Clara kept those straight A’s going. It was insulting, because it made her feel like second place in her own home, and she never settled for anything less than gold.

At least she threw great parties. All Clara threw were Adderall tablets into her mouth.

“Look, Clara I—

Cleo rolled her eyes in exasperation. She was the captain of the volleyball team and the goalie for the lacrosse team on top of being the center for the basketball team. Clara was captain of the lacrosse and track teams. How hard was it to tell them apart?

She was the intense one, whose manicure was always on point. Clara was the neurotic with an oral fixation. Cleo was the one that had the boys eating out of her hand with a look. Clara acted hard but she was putty in the hands of that assistant coach.

Oops.

Imagine getting caught in such a compromising position.

If you weren’t my sister, I’d have dragged you for that in front of everyone, she thought irritably. It was such a juicy piece of gossip and it was killing her that she couldn’t use it.

Well she could.

But she wouldn’t.

Not unless Clara did something to really piss her off. Then the misadventures of princess pill-popper were going to be public knowledge, sister or no. She tossed her hair. Sometimes it felt like subtlety was lost on her sister. Oh sure, both of them had to get the last word in. Had to be right, had to make sure everyone knew that their opinion was the right one. And despite their differences, they did love each other.

But Clara just couldn’t shut up sometimes. And speaking of which—

“Shut up!” she huffed. “Do I look like my sister to you?”

"Well, now that you mention it—"

“Oh my god,” she lightly kicked him in his side. “Figure of speech, moron.”If anything, Clara deciding to get a bunch of piercings was the best thing that ever happened to Cleo, because it made it simple to tell them apart.

You know, unless you were stupid, blind or both.

"Do you think you could take your legs off me now? My back wasn’t built for this."

She looked down the end of her nose at her ottoman, Bradley something. He’d lost a bet, thinking he could beat her in a game of horse.

Like that could ever happen.

She reached into the bucket on her lap and munched delicately on another bit of popcorn.

“No, the movie isn’t over yet.”

And Clara hadn’t yet arrived to take some pictures of Bradley for posterity.

The fun was just beginning.