Twins-Best of Friends?

Identical twins-surely they're the best of friends. Sadly, that's not always the case...
Read Ryan's tale of bullies and betrayal...


2. Two~"You're all grown up!"



This uniform is so...ugh! I can't even describe it, that's the only word I can think of! With a name like Greenwood College, you'd expect lots of lovely green on the uniform.

No, we get a dark green blazer, brown jumper and brown trousers. See why it's ugh? Girls are lucky, they get green skirts. They don't look like they've just stepped out of a muddy puddle.

Mum pokes her head around the door. "Breakfast in ten minutes!" She walks over to me, smiling. "Oh, look at you," she says, straightening my tie, "You're all grown up, nearly a teenager! Mind you, Rick acts like he's one already."

I shrug. "Ack, he won't be one 'till next August. Then you'll have to let him away with it."

Mum ruffles my hair, ruining the neatness I spent twenty minutes perfecting. "Don't forget Ryany," she smiles, "You'll be one too!" And with that, she's gone.

As soon as she's gone, I run a comb through my hair in a failed attempt to tame it. I wish I had some hair gel but Ricky used it all last night.

"Sorry bro," he had said, "Me and the boys are doing a back to school match at the pitch."

I rolled my eyes. "So you need hair gel for that," I muttered, "After all that rain, seriously Rick, there'll be no pitch, just muck!"

Rick patted my head. "Meeting El first," he said, as if it was the answer to everything, "Her and the cheerleaders will be there, you know, Cherry Stevens and that lot."

El is short for Elanor. Elanor Owens is Ricky's girlfriend. She's known for her over the top make up, incredibly short skirts and for being our year's football hero's girlfriend.

Can you guess who the football hero is? That's right, Rick.

Ah well, I suppose I'll have to manage without gel for a bit.

It's the need for bacon sandwiches that eventually sends me down the stairs for breakfast. I'm practically starving to death!

Oh good, Dad's making breakfast. Mum isn't exactly a cooking whizz and shouldn't be let near something that has the potential to burn food. I sit down and help myself to two sandwiches before anyone notices. I'm an incredibly quick eater.

The sound of quiet singing signifies that my brother has entered the room. He's head banging and singing away to yet another All Time Low song. He's obsessed. Badly.

Obviously, Ricky is struggling without hair gel. His hair's a mess! He should look at himself in a mirror. Not that he needs one. I am the mirror image of him, and he is the mirror image of me.

Ricky's my twin. We're identical. Which means that we have the same eyes, height, nose and unruly hair. Except, we're very different in personality.

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