Heaven And Hell novel Chapter 92

No, we weren't twins. Our parents just wanted our names to sound similar -- but we did kind of look closer to the twindom than any other siblings out there. We both had blond hair, like our parents, and tanned skin from surfing; we were tall and had the same cornflower blue eyes like Dad's. We didn't blame other people if they mistook us for twins, honestly. We even used to joke that we were.

Anyway, today, Oliver was going on a business trip in New York, and he was looking pretty sharp in his suit and new clean-cut, blond hair. He'd just graduated around a year ago and had gotten himself a job in marketing here in Evia, California. Now he was a marketing director at twenty-two.

As soon as he reached us, Dad clapped him on the back. "Your little sister here's not thrilled about England's countryside."

Oliver scrunched his nose. "We haven't been there in years, Dad. I just remember Jane Austen, the cold, the rain, the sheeps --"

"Never forget the sheeps," I interjected.

"-- and the grey sky."

"Now you two," Mom ground out, "are being stereotypical! You're half-English!"

Dad's shoulders rocked, and he grinned. "It's pretty cold, sweetheart," he told her, "even with the sunshine going. And the sheep shed holds a staggering number of woolly animals attesting to its name."

She actually looked like she could throttle him then and there.

"Remember the tadpoles by Aunt Mary's pond when they lived in Yorkshire?" Oliver asked, sidling up to me and bumping his shoulder with mine, playfully.

"And putting a frog on my head," I deadpanned, snorting. "And on my pillow."

"The frog needed a place to get warm before she gave birth to tadpoles, Livvy. It was so cold outside that time, you heartless creature, you."

"It was May."

"England's not California!"

"But the stupid amphibian was on my pillow!"

"You were such a sissy, sis!" He slapped a hand on his Armani-clad thigh, laughing his ass off, like he made the greatest joke in the world. I wish he'd look idiotic as he teased me like a six-year-old, but I could see, through my peripheral vision, that Oliver had female -- and some male -- onlookers practically ogling him.

Oh, there went a girl bumping into a baggage cart. Awesome.

I snorted at my brother. "I am charmed by your incredible wit," I said dryly. "I can't believe you're four years older than me and one of the youngest marketing directors out there."

"I know." He pinched my cheeks, cooing. "And you love me more than life itself."

I softened, giving him a hug. His arm tightened around my shoulders.

Oliver never liked him, though. Said that Brett looked like a no-good, lying playboy. But I'd pointed out that he didn't know Brett the way I did. He was sweet, kind, and understanding. He wasn't controlling, too! And...

Well, I liked him a lot. He was the type of guy who would never lie. He was supposed to come take me to the airport and wish my family a safe trip, but he claimed he wasn't feeling so good so, even though I was worried, he promised me he'd be fine and that he already missed me. I believed him after melting like butter on my bedroom floor an hour ago.

Now, as I looked at my brother and dad, I laughed at them because it was ridiculous. I mean, it was still strange that I'd become a better physical version of my old self, but when you're used to be the least prettiest girl in class and the most gangly one, like those giant Treebeards from Lord of the Rings, and had gotten laughed at for years, it tended to stick.

For Oliver, it had always been easy. I believed he'd been charming and handsome since he came out of Mom, and didn't look like a sack of wrinkly potato like me. He'd always been good-looking and never had a problem attracting the opposite sex and making friends.

I did.

Before I'd gotten my period at age twelve, I was short. Then it happened and I'd thought I would bleed to death that I'd burst into tears and cried for my mother to come help me.

I got tall. So tall, that I now bordered five-foot-eleven.

Then my braces had come off and my hair had gotten longer and lighter (from spending time at the beach) and I 'd learned how to surf. My body had gotten lean and fit and my skin had a golden tan.

I didn't have a hard time attracting people from then on. But, you know, old habits were hard to break, even though I was friendlier and care-free than I was when I'd been younger.

However, this time, I looked up and stared into my brother's sharp and familiar cornflower blue eyes, smiling cheekily. "I'll tell you if I fall in love with an English lord, and we'll hop onto a white horse and ride into the sun."