TwinCon

Here we go again! This story includes my usual debauchery, so don't be surprised when it shows up. Everyone in this story who engages in inappropriate activities is of the appropriate age to do so.

My Mom and my Aunt Tara are fraternal twins. They were best friends as kids and even went to college together. But after they met their respective husbands, they went to completely different parts of the country. Aunt Tara and Uncle Micah moved to Pennsylvania while my Mom and Dad bought a house in the suburbs of Chicago.

Soon, both sisters had babies and -- surprise surprise -- they both gave birth to twins. First, Aunt Tara had my cousins, Logan and Marissa. Two years later, my Mom gave birth to my brother, Liam, and me, Melanie.

My Mom and her twin sister still keep in touch. These days it's harder not to stay in contact with someone. However, a FaceTime isn't the same as a face-to-face. And so, once a year, both families get together for a week's vacation in July. As a joke, I named these annual gatherings TwinCon, and it's had that designation ever since.

Because my family hosted TwinCon the previous year, it was our turn to pile into the car and make our way to Aunt Tara's in PA. However, we would be driving even further than usual that year because we'd all rented a house on the Jersey Shore. Seven days of sun and fun in a place that (I hoped) wouldn't be as bad as MTV made it seem.

The morning of the trip, we woke up at the crack of dawn to help my father load up the SUV. I had two heavy suitcases in my arms and the weight wasn't helping me wake up any. My parents were already outside waiting in the car, and my Dad's impatience with his teenaged children was starting to show. He honked the horn, probably infuriating half the neighborhood. I could hear his exasperation in how the car blared.

I scrambled down the stairs, not wanting any more of my Dad's ire than I'd already incurred. Right as I got to the door, however, my twin brother Liam shoved me out of the way to get past. There was zero reason for him to do that, he got no benefit from it. He tossed me aside simply because he could.

"Why do have to be such a jerk, Liam?" I shouted after my brother.

"Why do you have to be such a baby, Lemony?" Liam shouted back. My name is Melanie, but when we were younger my brother twisted my name around by accident and the name stuck. For nearly as long as I can remember, I've been Lemony or Lemon. It's not the worst nickname in the world. I've used it as an excuse to have a love affair with the color yellow. I wear daffodil-hued shirts and paint my nails 'banana.' My old, beat up Civic could best be described as mustard. Even my hair is golden, though that's just luck of the draw.

I picked up my bags again and lugged them out the front door. I could see my father arguing with my Mom and I didn't need to hear them to know it was already ugly. We needed to get going or there were going to be consequences.

"What took you two so damn long?" Dad asked as Liam tossed his bags in the trunk.

"Lemony was holding me up," Liam said.

I shouldn't have been surprised that my brother was throwing me under the bus. It had been his favorite pastime for the last few months. Ever since we turned eighteen, really. I guess I kept expecting the sweet, loving sibling I'd grown up with to show up again. Sadly, it seemed my best friend/brother was dead.

Somewhere along the way, I'd been transformed from a playmate and secret confidant into an obstacle for my brother to shove out of his way. As if a life filled with crappy cliques and bad boyfriends wasn't already challenging enough. Absently, as I loaded my suitcase into the trunk, I wondered if our cousins, Logan and Marissa, were having similar problems getting along. Maybe this was a stage all siblings went through.

I was the last of the family to climb into the car. I pulled on my seatbelt and glared over at my brother. Liam was blond, like me, and, while not short, his broad shoulders, strong chest, and muscular legs made him seem squat. He wasn't built like a fire hydrant or anything, but years of wrestling in high school made him look the part. At least he didn't have any of that weird ear thing going on. If Liam noticed me eyeing him, he didn't acknowledge it. He stared out the window, like he was soaking in the slow dawn.

Speaking of not getting along... Even though we were all now ready to go, Dad continued to rant about our slow morning. Mom's persistent, detached calm seemed to only rile him up further.

"We're fine on time," Mom said.

"Says the person who isn't driving," Dad said.

"You want me to take the first shift? I'm happy to," Mom said. Her agreeable nature was as argumentative as anything my Dad was yelling about.

Around the same time Liam and I started to really go after each other, Mom and Dad began having similar problems. I wondered if angry feelings were contagious or something. Or maybe it was just that Liam and I were heading to college in a few short months and the upcoming separation was stressing everyone out. I loved my family dearly, but a part of me couldn't help but look forward to getting away from them. Maybe the break would be good for all of us. And if not, at least I wouldn't have to be there to witness it anymore.

But before I could make my getaway, we all had to endure one last, long car ride with each other. Our little sedan wasn't overpacked, but it still felt heavy. Our arguments and animosity were more than enough to drag us down.

*

At some point my parents stopped bickering and I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up, the sun was out, and we were speeding through Ohio. I saw Liam was still passed out, his head lolled on the window. But that wasn't what was most noticeable about my brother.

He had a boner!

Poking up from his navy-blue shorts, as unmissable as if it had a foghorn attached, was my brother's erect penis. I hadn't had a lot of experiences with boy parts, certainly not in judging their size based solely on how they pressed upwards in their pants, but Liam's bulge sure did seem prominent to me.

I mean, I'd had a couple boyfriends before. And I used the Internet. So, you know, it wasn't like I was a prude or anything. But still, this was my brother's erection -- it looked awfully large in his shorts -- and I guess some base biological part of me became captivated by it.

When he wasn't being a total jerkwad, I could acknowledge that Liam was kind of cute in a brotherly sort of way. He kept his blonde hair cropped short, another remnant of his wrestling days. With the hair and the muscles, Liam seemed like a very serious young man.

In truth, Liam was sweet and kind of a goofball. His pale blue eyes sparkled with mirth. In fact, his face was always set in a playful expression, like he was quietly laughing to himself at the ridiculousness of existence. Liam floats through life, Mom had said once, and I thought that was an accurate description.

In the car that morning though, there was nothing soft about what was going on in my brother's pants. I did my best not to stare, despite my sudden fascination. I mean, if I were asleep and my oversized boob popped out of my shirt, I wouldn't want Liam to be drooling over it while I drowsed. Though I doubted he wouldn't even care. Maybe it would even gross him out, seeing his sister's big, flabby tit. He didn't seem to have much patience for any of my other parts, lately.

By the way Liam moved and moaned in his sleep, I assumed he was having a sex dream. I was pretty sure my twin brother was still a virgin. As far as I knew, Liam was like me: he'd had a couple of very high school relationships that never went beyond heavy petting. But that didn't stop his unconscious brain from simulating the experience, apparently.

Liam shifted and I quickly looked away.

"Oh, Mel..." he moaned. Then he jerked awake like he'd been hit with a cattle prod.

I quickly ripped my head around and focused on the endless empty that surrounded the highway. Had my brother been dreaming about me? There was no way, right? First off, I was his sister, so I doubted he had any feelings for me beyond the usual sibling stuff. Second, he clearly hated my fricking guts. So, it had to be my mistake. Besides, my brother always called me Lemony or Lemon -- never Mel. He was almost certainly dreaming about some other girl in our class. Maybe Melissa Hardaway from third period Spanish? That made perfect sense.

"Was I, um, snoring?" Liam asked the car as he stretched back into consciousness. He eyed the cabin nervously.

"Is that what you call it? I thought you'd brought a bulldozer with you into the car," I said.

"Shut up, Lemon," Liam said, "At least I don't talk in my sleep."

"I do not!"

"I mean, seriously, I should have brought earplugs with me or something."

"Could the both of you please let it go," Dad said, "One minute of peace. That's all I'm asking for. Sweet fucking Christ."

I wanted to argue back. Both Liam and I had been quite quiet for the last four hours at least. But I knew that arguing with my Dad would only make things worse. So, I apologized and put in my headphones.

*

We stopped for lunch at a strip mall right off the highway. They had a Chick-Fil-A, manna from the gods, and we went around the drive-thru. Dad insisted we couldn't stop but Mom had to use the bathroom. Since we were down to about a quarter of a tank of gas, Mom won, and we all got out to stretch our legs.

As I left one of the worst bathrooms I've ever experienced, I saw Liam heading towards me. I jogged over and grabbed his arm. He ripped it out of my hands.

"What is your problem?" I asked. He glared at me and bared his teeth, like a jungle cat. "No, seriously, come on. Talk to me."

"I'm fine," Liam said. He reached to put his AirPods in his ears, but I slapped them away.

"You're not. Now talk to me, dammit, or I will sing Taylor Swift at the top of my lungs for the rest of the drive."

"You wouldn't dare," Liam said.

"WE ARE NEVER, EVER, EVER..."

Liam grabbed my arm so hard it hurt. "Shut up already, ok? I'm listening."

"Look, I'm not saying we have to be best friends or anything," I said, "But you're my brother, my twin. I legit care about you and I don't want to live the rest of my life with us this way. If I did something wrong, or upset you..."

"You didn't do anything," Liam said.

"So then what the actual fuck?"

"I'm sorry," Liam said, he stepped back from me and kicked at the gravel ground. "I don't know what to say except I'm sorry. I'll try to be a better brother."

"That's not good enough," I said, pressing my advantage. "You have to give me one thing each day that I can do to be a better sister."

Liam sighed gratuitously and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Once a day, you have to tell me a secret. Something that no one else can ever know."

I started to argue, but then I realized the genius of what my brother was suggesting. Saying nice things or even doing them could be an empty gesture. I could still resent my brother while I did his chores or bought him a gift. But if we shared each other's secrets we would build a true bond between the two of us, almost by accident.

"And you'll do the same?" I asked, hands on my hips. As if Liam hadn't already won.

"Yes," he said, his mouth dry. "You go first."

"You weren't snoring while you were sleeping before," I said, "I caught you doing, um, something else."

Liam's face went pink and he gave me a sheepish look. Apparently, he knew exactly what he'd been dreaming about.

"Mom and Dad didn't notice, but I'll take it to my grave," I said. "Your turn."

Liam looked at me very seriously. He put his hands on my shoulders. "I was dreaming about someone I shouldn't be."

And then he walked away.

*

We got to Aunt Tara's house around three in the afternoon. Their home looked like it had been cribbed off a postcard -- a classic Victorian painted green with black shutters and a wraparound porch. The day was almost oppressively hot, but the land was shady, covered in twisted oaks. An old tire swing hung off one of the branches.

We stepped out to the smell of fresh cut grass and honeysuckle. My footsteps kicked up the dust on the driveway. I hadn't been there in over two years, but the place still felt familiar, almost as welcoming as my own home.

The front door popped open and my cousin Marissa raced out. My female cousin was thin and tall, with dark, tawny hair and flashing brown eyes. She was wearing navy shorts and a tie-dye t-shirt, her hair tied back.

Marissa practically tackled me, wrapping her arms around my waist and swinging me around. Her emotions flowed out like a cup, overfilled. "I'm so happy you're here!" she shouted, like she needed the whole neighborhood to know.

Marissa finally let go of me and went over to give Liam a similarly over the top greeting. Meanwhile her brother, Logan, had come out of the house. He ambled over, his own brown hair flopping in the wind, and gave me a hug as well. Logan was taller than me by as much as a foot, and his arms were so long I felt like he could have wrapped them around me, twice.

Logan stepped back and gave me a wide grin.

"It's good to see you," I told him, meaning it.

Logan nodded. Unlike his sister, he'd never been one for words. But his dark eyes were so deep, it sometimes felt like staring into the abyss. Logan might come off as distant, but in truth his feelings ran strong, right below the surface.

Aunt Tara and Uncle Micah came out and greeted us. Tara and my mother weren't identical twins, but they sure did look alike. They were both blonde, short women with pale skin and serious curves. The men they'd married, however, couldn't have looked more different. Uncle Micah was a big man, tall, with a gut that hung over his belt and a great, bellowing laugh. My Dad was short, even an inch shorter than Mom, and skinny. But he also had a full head of silver hair, whereas Uncle Micah was down to a few dark wisps.

I got hugs from both my Aunt and Uncle. Then everyone stood on the front yard and stared, like we were appraising each other for the first time.

"Holy fuck, Lemony, your tits got huge!" Marissa blurted out. She put her hands to her mouth, but far too late to stop anything. The whole family turned to stare at Marissa. But I was the one who turned bright red.

Look, I did not need my cousin to tell me I had massive boobs. This was not a surprise to me. It's not like I didn't hit puberty till age 18, but there was no avoiding the fact that the previous summer I'd been a tidy A cup and now, a year later, I was overflowing with Ds.

I knew I was supposed to be happy about this development, like getting a surprise offseason gift from Santa, but I honestly hated my newfound assets. For one thing, every guy who couldn't give me the time of day before was suddenly all over me. Like I needed more assholes in my life. And every girl who'd previously treated me as a non-entity suddenly decided I was their worst enemy.

It was a pain, honestly, lugging those big boobs around. They always got in my way. Basic things like eating or running turned into a huge ordeal. I didn't even like how they looked on me: fat, ugly and all out of proportion.

"I'm so sorry," Marissa said, spluttering, "I didn't mean to. I mean. It just came out."

"It's OK," I said, and gave my cousin another hug. The rest of the family started to head into the house. The moment had passed. But I caught both Logan and Liam eyeing me oddly as I went inside.

*

We all ate dinner together in the old farmhouse and went to bed. I slept in Marissa's room while Liam stayed with Logan. I suppose there's that image of two giggly girls lying in bed talking about school, friends, and boys. The truth is, I was so tired from eight hours in the car, I pretty much passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I woke up the next morning as golden sunlight streamed into the bedroom. The room smelled of cedar from the closets and warm bacon from downstairs. I could have spent my whole life just breathing that in.

"This is nice," I said, absently.

"Eh," Marissa replied, "I could do without." I hadn't even realized she was awake. I rolled over to look at my cousin. Her brown hair was splayed everywhere on the pillow. Her dark eyes dull with sleep.

"It's so pretty here. So peaceful," I said.

"So boring," Marissa said, "So narrowminded."

"You can't mean Aunt Tar... I mean your Mom and Dad."

"No, they're ok," Marissa said, slowly sitting up. "But now that I'm going to school in the city, everything else seems so stultifying. I can't wait till I never have to come back here."

"I get that," I said, "I'm looking forward to leaving for school, too. I guess I'm used to a house full of yelling parents and sucky siblings and this just seems so peaceful. Let me ask you something. When you and Logan turned eighteen did you have, like, a big blowout?"

Marissa froze and he eyes went small. She hugged her arms around her stomach and stared at the ground. I'd never seen her go so still, almost turning into her twin brother.

"No," Marissa said, almost accusatory. "Logan and I are fine. Totally normal. I mean, why would you even ask something like that?"

"Liam and I have been fighting like cats and dogs basically since our birthday," I said, "I wondered if maybe you had gone through the same thing."

Marissa visibly relaxed. She gave me a big smile. "Oh! No, nothing like that. If anything, we grew even closer after our birthday. I mean, in a good, supportive sibling sort of way, you know? Did something happen with you two, you know, to cause the argument?"

"Not that I know of," I said. "In fact, the only thing I can think of is my parents started arguing at about the same time." I got off the bed and started pulling clothes out of my suitcase. A canary (what else?) cami top and a pair of navy short-shorts. Plus, fresh underwear, natch. "It's like my whole family caught a case of the angries."

"Weird," Marissa said. She got clean clothes out of her dresser. Her body was so petite and perfect. My cousin was gorgeous, and I found myself envious. Her flat stomach and perky chest, why was I stuck with so much other stuff? "Maybe it's cause you're leaving for school," Marissa continued, unaware of my jealous eye. "I think it's human nature, to push each other away when all we really want to do is stay."

"With me and Liam, maybe," I said., "My parents, though? Why would us leaving make them argue?" I lifted off my top and started to put on my bra. I noticed my older cousin was staring at my chest again. Not that I could judge, I'd been doing the same thing. Still, it made me feel on display in an uncomfortable way. "Um, Marissa?"

"Oh, sorry," Marissa said, looking away. "They're just so... I mean, how could I not notice? We should start calling you Melon-y."

I laughed as I shimmied my shorts over my wide hips. "It's fine, really."

"If anything, I'm super jealous," Marissa said. She took off her own top and started to get dressed. I thought my cousin's little boobs fit her body fine. She was tall and thin, but still very feminine. I guess both of us would have switched bodies if we could. Though I'd seen enough Lindsay Lohan films to know that was a bad idea. "Did you have them, you know, done?" My cousin whispered that last word like it was a curse.

"Are you kidding? If anything, I'm thinking about reduction surgery," I said, standing up fully dressed. "I hate these big jugs."

"Well, I'm sure there are some side benefits," Marissa said with a sultry wink as she slipped on her own shorts. "My doofy brother couldn't keep his eyes off you. It almost made me jealous. In a, like, totally appropriate sister way."