The Wrong Twin

small bean

“H-hi,” Bailey stuttered. My brother didn’t say a thing and faced me, “I have games this weekend,” he announced as he left the room. Bailey was looking at the cup. The door closed and I sighed. He doesn’t like meeting new people.

“I’m sorry about my brother. He’s always like that. But don’t worry, if he gets to know you, I’m sure he will like you. And you have me so you have nothing to worry about.” I cheered him up and he smiled. I like his smiles. It’s like it completes me.

No, wait. That’s wrong. I mean, I like it when he smiles, it’s like I did a good deed.

“It’s okay. I can handle it.” Bailey replied. We both continued what we cut off earlier and I helped Bailey unpack his luggage. He started to organize his study table and place his laptop and books. He also ironed his school uniforms for tomorrow. I looked at his schedule and I’m glad that we both have the same class except gym class. I don’t have a gym class, but Cain has. He’s the captain of sports.

“I’m pretty sure it will be okay. It’s just an hour.” I said. Bailey sat down in his chair, “no, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, I can meet new friends. It’s not like Cain and me only in the class.” He chuckled.

“Okay,” he mumbled and started to open my books and laptop. Bailey started to open his laptop as well and write down the homework that he missed. I guided him because we are in the same class plus, he can still catch up passing his assignments. He never asked more questions, instead he answered them directly. I was stunned because it looks like it’s easy for him.

It's getting dark as I peek out the window. I asked as to what dinner Bailey will be having, but he insists that he will be having whatever meal I will be having. Unlike my brother, he isn't choosy. That's why I didn't ask him every time I had my meals.

I climbed out of my bed to check the pantry and damn it. I should have done the grocery instead of expecting my brother. I heard Bailey stand up from his seat and start to find something in his bags. He picked up the brown bag and placed it on top of the kitchen counter.

“I only have instant noodles and some cookies.” He said.

“I can run downstairs to see if there’s more food available.”

He shook his head, “No, I’m not picky. I used to eat instant noodles a lot.”

“It’s not healthy, Bailey. Sure, you can eat those but not every day. Uhm, just stay here while I go downstairs, okay?” I said as I grabbed my wallet and phone. Bailey wanted to protest but I didn’t let him. He’s so skinny and he shouldn’t have eaten those. He may not be a picky person but what he’s eating is dangerous.

Bailey gave up and placed the noodles in the pantry as I walked in front of the door. I close the door behind me and walk to the elevator down to where the cafeteria is. When I arrived, I chose everything because I don’t know what he likes and I bought my brother dinner as well, just in case he didn’t have his meal. I don’t know why I am doing this but one thing I know is that I want to protect him.

He’s such a small bean. So innocent and cute.

I don’t do this often but when it comes to Bailey, I will do anything for him. What is wrong with me? I just met him a couple of hours ago. The way we talked earlier, it feels like I have known him my entire life. We both like the same thing and dislike the same thing as well. I glanced at my watch and it said 7 in the evening. Hmm, I wonder if my brother is already done with his practice. He had games this weekend and he is expecting me to be there. As always. Brothers support brothers. Whenever he had games, I’m always there. I don’t stay in our room to study but at the bleacher to support him. I know that he will always win, I just wanted to be there for my twin.

After I paid for our meals, I rode the elevator, pressing my room floor. When I reached my floor, I got out and walked to my room. I opened the door revealing my twin brother having a staring contest at the poor Bailey. Bailey was sitting at his desk, fidgeting his fingers while my brother was eyeing him as he sat on the edge of his bed.

He’s so immature.

I rolled my eyes and locked the door behind me.

“Take a picture, it will last,” I told Cain. He broke up the stare and glared at me.

“He doesn’t even talk to me,” he said.

“That’s because you’re scaring him,” I replied.