Fair Coin by E. C. Myers Page B

twin do you want?” Nathan said. “I think we should work that out before we sit down.”
    “I don't want either of them. I like Jena, remember? Besides, I thought you wanted Shelley.”
    “I have dibs on the thin one.”
    Ephraim gaped at him. “There is no thin one. I mean they're both thin. They're the same…width.”
    “Then I suppose we could just flip a coin.” Nathan winked. “Hey, where is it, by the way? Do you keep it with you all the time?”
    Ephraim slipped his hand into his pocket to check on the coin. It was still in its plastic bag.
    “You're with Shelley and I'll take Mary,” Ephraim said.
    “I knew you liked her.”
    “Just for tonight. To help you out.”
    A maître d’ led them to the rear of the restaurant. Mary and Shelley sat at a table, sipping soda from wine glasses.
    “Happy birthday,” Ephraim said. He offered them a box wrapped in SpongeBob SquarePants paper. “Sorry about the wrapping paper. It's all they had.”
    “It's perfect! We love SpongeBob SquarePants,” Shelley said.
    Ephraim winced.
    “So do I,” Nathan said. “It's from me too, by the way.” Ephraim clenched his jaw. He was doing this for his friend, he reminded himself. He'd let Nathan share the credit, even if he never paid Ephraim for his half of the present. As long as it made Shelley like Nathan, and got Nathan off his back.
    Ephraim sat down across from Mary, and Nathan slid into the booth next to him.
    “Should we open it now?” Mary asked, patting the present on the table between her and Shelley.
    “If you want,” Ephraim said.
    Each girl took a corner and tore at the wrapping paper, their pink lacquered nails flashing in the light from the mini crystal chandelier above the table. Beneath the wrapping was a plain gray cardboard box. They opened it in tandem, looked inside, then frowned.
    “You got us statues of…” Shelley said.
    “…naked men?” Mary said.
    Nathan coughed, spraying bread crumbs over the tablecloth. “What?” he said.
    “They're Castor and Pollux,” Ephraim explained. “The Gemini twins. Because you're Gemini, and…uh, twins.”
    “Actually, we're Cancers,” Shelley said.
    “Oh,” Ephraim said.
    “But we're on the cusp,” she added.
    “You know what they say about Cancers,” Nathan said.
    “What?” Shelley asked.
    “They have a way of growing on you.”
    Shelley giggled, but Mary rolled her eyes. Ephraim exchanged a sympathetic glance with her.
    Mary and Shelley each lifted out one of the statues. They were actually made of plaster, painted to look like granite. The Roman men wore laurels in their hair and small loincloths. Each of them bore a torch: the one on the left had one in his left hand turned downward, while the one on the right held his slung over his right shoulder.
    “They're bookends,” Ephraim said.
    “Thanks, Ephraim,” Mary said.
    “Nathan helped me pick them out,” Ephraim said. “In fact, they were his idea.” He smirked when Nathan shot a look at him, his cheek still bulging with bread. He looked like a blond hamster.
    The twins packed up the bookends and moved the box and torn wrapping paper to the bench beside them.
    “We love them,” Shelley said. “That was very thoughtful.” She sat up straighter in her seat, which pushed her chest out and over the table. Nathan choked and reached for his water glass.
    “Nice outfits, by the way,” Ephraim said. They each wore a light-blue shirtdress with the top two buttons undone. They probably couldn't fasten them even if they wanted to , he thought.
    “We always get new clothes for our birthday,” Mary said.
    “So they're kind of like your ‘birthday suits’?” Nathan said, his voice scratchy. Ephraim gave him a withering look.
    “Why do you still dress alike?” Ephraim said. “Do you like it when people can't tell you apart?”
    “Some people can tell us apart,” Shelley said. “Our parents can. Jena can.” She shrugged.
    “If someone really knows us, they won't have any