J+J Series, 002: A Blind Date

[J+J Series, No. 002: A Blind Date]
[June 12, 16 years]
    Oh, those lazy summer Saturday afternoons.  Jules, sitting at her desk, writes away in her journal.  There are two, actually.  Or, more specifically, two journal types she keeps.  She is writing in volume eleven of her fiction/short story journal.  Jules has eight volumes of "J&J's Weirdness" to track their progress through life.
    Jules' twin sits on her bed reading a book.  Janet has probably three or four books she is currently reading as any given time.  More times than not, when Janet is not in her room reading, she wishes she was.  Therefore, when she is out, she has a book to help distract her from whatever she does not care to deal with: other people.  Jules had noted this characteristic in the "J&J's Weirdness" journal.  It first appeared in volume three and has been revisited in volumes five, six and eight.
    Also journalized for posterity is Janet's penchant for nudity.  Like, now, for instance, Janet is wearing naught but her smile and book.  There are sketches Jules made of this phenomenon on several pages in each volume since four.
    One thing oddly absent from the journal was the telepathic link the twins share.  It is referenced - obliquely - but never specifically mentioned.
        Janet: "Do you think you can change the colour of something?"
    The link was exclusive - private - and has been there as long as they have known.  Thinking to each other is more natural for them than talking.
        Jules: "Hello? We were not born with red hair."
        Janet: "No, I mean like other stuff.  Like you move things, can you shift the pigment so it is another colour?"
    Jules looks at her hands, turns them this way and that, looking at her nail polish.  The polish is a soft pink that she likes, but thinks it does not go well with her hair.  She concentrates and the polish slides off her nails as it fades to powder, leaving her nails void of decoration.
        Jules: "Oh.  That didn't work, but maybe..."
    Not wanting to re-paint her nails at the moment, she concentrates on her pen.  The ink, specifically, she decides.  Jules had, in fact, done this once before, in a way, but she no more understood it now then she did then and the event is lost in the annals of her journals. She focuses and manges to give herself a headache.  Janet blinks over to her side and massages her temples.  It is a familiar action.  Janet slides around to sit on Jules' lap and looks at the pen too.
    Dark blue -> light blue -> green -> yellow -> orange...
        Janet: "Hey, that's cool.  Go back to green, your favourite colour."
        Jules: "Ha... you over estimate me.  It is kinda like - sliding around out of control."
        Janet: "But see? You can shift it around."
        Jules: "Only... it is different.  It should not really work like this."
        Janet: "So? With some practice, you will be able to shift it to any colour of the rainbow, I'm sure."
        Jules: "But I don't understand it."
    With a kiss on the cheek, Janet says out loud, "You are so silly," and blinks back over to her bed with a playfulness reserved for only her sister.
    Jules plays around a little with changing the colour of the ink, then writing a little, then changing it again.  "Why were you wondering about if I could change things' colour?"
        Janet: "Does it matter? I was just curious. New talent. Stick *that* in your  journal."
    Jules looks up from writing the word yellow with purple ink.  "You are never 'just curious.'"
    Janet, putting her book down, "Okay.  What if we painted our room.  Only, not paint, you know?"
        Jules: "Not black."
        Janet: "Why not black? You like it too."
        Jules: "Not like you do; not EVERYTHING."
    Janet's nails, lips, eyes had not been anything but black in over a year.  Out side of their school uniform, there were some occurrences of concession on the wardrobe, but it was almost exclusively black boots, black cargo pants, two or three black shirts of varying styles.  A black jacket when (mostly) appropriate, black leather bracelets and necklace.  All this a drastic change from the minimalism of earlier years.  But her hair was always the new-penny copper from that first day of school.
    She still preferred nudity, likely as not to be stark naked, when they were in their room.  Just about guaranteed to be in the buff if she was alone... nearly anywhere.

        Janet: "Jules...,"
        Jules: "Uh... Yes?"
        Janet: "I'm hungry."
        Jules: "Why are you telling me this?"
        Janet: "Tell me what's in the fridge."
        Jules: "The door's closed. I can't see in there.  You can look."
        Janet: "It's dark in there, I can't see.  You can open the door."
        Jules: "So, I'll open the door so I can see, which will turn on the light so you can see, right?"
        Janet: "Yep. Um... bring me Coke?"
        Jules: "Sure.  Mmmm... Cheese..."
    Moments later they could faintly hear from down stairs, "Girls!  That is really WEIRD!"
    "Sorry, Mom," from Jules, of course.
    "And close the fridge, Jules."

    Last bite of cheese gone, Jules resumes her writing only to be interrupted again, this time by her phone laying on the desk.  With a sigh, she answers with the speaker.  "Hi Mark."
    "Oh, Hi.  It's Mark," Mark states.
    "Yeah. Either I am psychic, or I have a ring for you all your own."
    Mark is not Jules' boyfriend and Jules hopes that is perfectly all right with him.  She likes him, but does not want the label.  In practice, it does not make a difference.  Their circle of friends treats them as near a couple as anything, but Jules just is not ready for anything even as committed as going steady.  He does not seem to mind.
    "Am I on speaker?" He asks.
    "Am I Jules?  Of course you are," She teases.
    "Pick up."
    "Yeah?" He does not normally mind the speaker phone.  "Yeah. When?"  She looks over at Janet who seems to be ignoring the one side of the conversation she can hear.  "Oh, really?" There are not many clues.  "Nah, it'll be fine," with a chuckle. "What'd you rent? ... Nope. Been meaning to." She does perk up when Mark calls, even if she will not admit to it. "Want us to bring-  Oh.  Okay then... yeah, you too.  Bye," and hangs up with a smile which fades to a cautious grin when she turns to Janet.
        Janet: "I am assuming you are going to make me go too. What time?"
        Jules: "You mean, how long before you have to get dressed?"
        Janet: "Something like that, yeah."

    *    *    *    *    *   

    Janet lets out an exaggerated sigh as Jules pulls their old, blue Mini out onto the main road.
        Janet: "Every time you drag me along to one of these things, I just end up sitting..."
        Jules: "That is no ones fault but your own.  These are our friends."
        Janet: "No, these are your friends."
        Jules: "Again, no ones fault but yours.  You have no friends."
        Janet: "It's not my fault people don't understand me."
        Jules: "People won't understand us. That's just the way it is. But..."
    Jules took in a controlled breath to gather muster her patience. "Mark said there was someone he wanted you to meet."
    "A blind date?  Are you nuts?"
        Jules: "Calm down.  It's not a date.  She's his cousin and... we think you two will get along."
        Janet: "Traitor."
    Janet plugged her music player into the car stereo and turn on The Jam.
    "Where do you find this stuff?"
    "Was Dad's.  Drive through and get me some coffee."
    "Aye, mon capitan," Jules agreed and turned up the music.

    Mochas in hand, the twins arrive at Mark's little soiree, a bit on the early side - typical.  Jules sets the brake, unbuckles, pulls the keys (and drops them into her purse), opens the door and grabs her purse on her way out.  Janet moans a little,  takes off the seatbelt and blinks out next to the Mini.  She has a knack for knowing when no one is looking.  They get as far as the front porch before:
        Janet: "Let's go. Aren't you in the middle of that book you're writing? Have to finish another thousand words by Monday or something?"
        Jules: "Nope. Look, we're here now. We're going to have pizza, chips, dip... watch a movie... it will be fun."
        Janet: "Fun for you. I'm gonna have nothing but awkward. I don't like movies. I don't like pizza."
        Jules: "Since when, don't you like pizza?"
    Mark, looking out a window, sees the twins standing in front of the door, arms crossed, silently staring at each other.
        Jules: "I bought you mocha, you're hanging out, and you are going to like it."
        Janet: "Fine."
    The door opens and Mark asks if they planned on coming in.  In response, Janet rolls her eyes and walks into the house.  Jules, on the other hand, smiles brightly at Mark and says, "Hi."
    Mark, predictably, is dressed in bluejeans (they earned their faded look) and flannel. And he returns the smile. Jules is in khaki caprices and layered tees - a stark contrast to Janet's black cargo pants, black tee, black denim jacket, rounded out with black Doc Martins - all faded to grey, actually.
    Hand offered, Mark asks if Jules would like to come in.
    "Certainly," Jules answers enthusiastically, accepting the escort.  "So, where's you cousin?"

    Janet is standing in the library, east of the entrance hall. The twins have been to Mark's - or rather, Mark's parent's - house plenty of times. It is the default hangout of their friends. Correction: Jules' friends. And, in kind, the library tends to pull Janet in. She is standing, facing the shelves of books, wearing a disaffected stare when Jules and Mark enter with a girl in toe - the cousin, Janet assumes.
    Cute. Stockings, plaid wrap skirt, white blouse.  Not unlike their school uniform, only she made it look good. Black sunglasses and a white cane with a red tip. Short.  The twins are a healthy five-foot-eight barefoot but this girl didn't come to their chin. Janet turns to face her.
    "Hi. You must be Janet. I'm Isa.  I'm a lesbian."
    Janet kinda froze.  Isa's hand out reached, waiting for it to be taken in greeting.
    Isa brakes the silence before it gets (more) awkward. "Did I say that out loud?  I hate it when that happens.  Are you nodding your head?"  Janet was, slowly. "'Cause I can hear the rocks rolling around in there." She wiggles her fingers.  "C'mon.  Don't leave me hangin'."
    Janet takes Isa's hand after a rude, private comment from her sister.
    "Oh, and I am not really gay.  I don't know why I said that." She keeps holding Janet's hand and starts walking to the den and over to the sofa.  Janet rolls her eyes and goes along, helping guide.  Then she finds herself on the listening end a sort of one-sided conversation - or rather, Isa started monologuing.
    "You are I are just not going to get along at all. Mark said you don't really talk much, you know, and you don't like touching and stuff where I, like, rely so much on sound and touch.  See, it is almost like I am sitting here by, and talking to, myself.  Right? I mean, that is like, creepy, eh?"
    "Meh."
    "'Meh?' Which part?  The creepy part?"
    "M-hm."
    "I can't tell you how many times I have been standing there talking to nobody because they walked off and I had no idea and then like my mom will come up and be like, 'quit talking to yourself,' and I'd be all like, 'but... I... she...,' and stuff then she'd walk off too and then dad would be like, 'it's one think to talk to your self, but it is all together different when you are trying to convince yourself that you are not talking to yourself.'"  She did her dad's line is this funny "man's" voice which amused Janet.
    Isa continues for a while talking about nothing in particular.  Pizza arrived.
    She asked, "Oh, are we alone?"
    "No," Janet fibs.
    "I think we are."
    "No."
    "Yeah, 'Cause, like, Jules was there, and John, and Mark, and Bill, Anon, Mary, and Samantha and Veronica," she points to where each of them had been in turn, "all got up to get pizza.  Now, it just the two of us. and... Did you just sigh?"  Janet had. "Oh.  Sorry, you..."
    "It's okay.  Really.  I just... I don't know why... so I was not sure..." Janet trails off.
    Isa laughs a little, "You're scared because you don't know my intentions?  Oh, that's funny.  I'm the one that would not see you trying anything.  But I know you wouldn't."  There is a pause. "Are you raising your eyebrow at me?"
    She was. "We are alone," Janet confirms.
    "Ha! I knew it."
    "You are pretty."
    "Um... thanks.  You have a lovely voice."
    "I wish you could know how I like the way you smell."
    "Riiiiigggghhhhttttt.  You smell like mint."
    "Your lips look very soft."
    "Oh-KAY... "
    "Are you comfortable?"
    "Well, um... No?"
    "Good.  What was with that lesbian remark?"
    "I don't know.  Nothing about... I'm really sorry.  I was going to say 'I'm blind' because, you know, it is obvious, you know... irony?"
    "You know I am not interested in dating... either way, right?"
    "Um... I think that may have come up."
    "M-hm."
    "I mean... Oh, forget it.  You must hate me."  Silence.  "Okay, whether you are shaking your head or nodding in agreement, I can't hear it, so..."
    "I was shaking my head.  I don't hate you.  Promise.  I have trust issues, and no congeniality, but I actually like you."
    "Oh?" is Isa's perky response.
    "Trust issues..." Janet emphasized.
    "Oh..." Isa's voice turned down perceptably..
    Another moment of silence before Janet continues, "But there is something I want to ask you... Why do you wear the glasses?"
    "Well, because I can't see anything coming, they offer some protection - in lieu of blink reflex.  And, it is kinda iconic, so it helps people know, you know.  But for me, mostly, it is so I don't look weird, staring off into space.  They tell me that sighted people feel funny when they are making eye contact, but it is not reciprocal."
    "Understandable."
    -Silence-
    "That was it?  That was your only question?"
    "Well, I do have another."
    "Okay.  Ask away."
    "Would you like me to help you get some pizza?"
    "Oh, YES!  The smell was driving me NUTS!"

    Isa takes Janet's arm and is lead to the kitchen and the boxes.  Janet narrates the topping options, collecting the couple that most interest the short, chatty, blind girl before leading her to the breakfast table.  The others, by this time, have returned to the den to discus which of the rented movies to put in first.  Jules spares more than a glance or two toward her sister.  Jules understands her twin, even the things Janet will not admit to herself.

    "Would you like more, or something else... I drink perhaps?" Janet offers.
    "No, I'm good.  Maybe a root beer later.  But you didn't have anything."
    Janet takes a sip of her cooling mocha.  "I'm good."
    They are sitting at the corner of the table. Isa reaches and puts her hand on Janet's arm.  Janet looks with her mind at her sister in the room with everyone else.  Jules takes Mark's hand, smiling because she senses her twin's emotion; excitement, fear, wonder.
    Isa and Janet sat for a while, holding hands.  Isa was doing most of the talking while Janet ponders the hand she is holding.  It is not bothering her.  She likes it.  She feels warm inside.
    "So, you're a model? Or, you do modelling? How does that work?" Isa, trying to get Janet to talk about herself.
    "Mom has contacts with magazine people... including fashion mags. They set me up. You should see some... Oh.  crap.  I'm an idiot. Sorry."
    Isa laughed, "No, it's fine."
    Awkward silence.
    "Please, tell me more," Isa said softly.
    Janet was uneasy after the slip. "Like... what?"
    "How long have you been doing it?"
    "Almost half my life, I guess.  Not much at first.  They would pose Jules and I together, but she didn't like it like I did."
    "Are you going to keep it up? Continue after high school?"
    "Sure.  Put us through college."
    "That's amazing.  You must be really pretty."
    Awkward silence.
    Isa slowly pulls her hand away and folds her hands together, head lowered.
    Janet wondered why her new friend now looked sad.  Why she was so suddenly quiet. Why she took her hand away.  Replaying the last few moments in her mind, Janet realized or rather suspected the problem. Janet has no compunction about her looks, but never took compliments well. She has no idea why this is, but her silence would easily have been misconstrued in ways she knew better than to think she could understand.
    She reaches out and put her hand over Isa's.  "It's not you," Janet said. "I have image issues."
    Isa smirked.  "A fashion model with image issues.  That's messed up."
    "Well, it is more common than you think, but, yeah.  Can I tell you something... like a secret?"
    "Are you kidding? Anything you say, I will rush right out and tell the first person I see." This girl lives for sarcasm.
    "More blind jokes?" They both giggled a little.  "It's just that... like, when you said I must be pretty... Why must I?  That is, I know what I look like... I look like me."
    "Um..."
    "No, I mean, I'm not trying to say, 'gosh, I'm not pretty.'  I like the way I look."
    "... But...?"
    "... but you said I must be pretty... because I am a model? But I look at you and... well, it may as well be you, as far as I'm concerned."
    Isa wrinkles her face in a curious way. "What do you mean?"
    "What I mean is, I think you are pretty.  Very cute.  Way cuter than me.  But there is something..." Janet trails off momentarily. "Something about some people that makes them good models, but it, to me, is not at all the same thing that makes them a pretty person." She lets out a sigh of frustration. "I don't know."
    "Are..." Isa was trying out, "... you talking about inner beauty versus superficial looks?"
    "No.  Nothing so profound."
    There is a pause but this time Janet gave Isa's hand a (hopefully) reassuring squeeze. The movie was starting in the din.
    "I may not be able to see 'pretty' but I can hear, touch, smell... taste.  When I listen to... wait, this is going to sound lame, okay? so, it is not a secret, or anything, but just don't spread it around.  But, when I listen to people, their voice sorta paints a picture, you may say.  I mean, so many people, their voice is all I know them by.  And so I will think to myself, when other people talk about some hottie - how good _looking_ he is, or whatever, or the bimbos the guys go nuts over... well, I kinda have my own audio image of them.  And so many are like, 'so what' to me."
    Janet chuckles a little. "I getcha."
    Jules passes through and continues into the kitchen with a peculiar smirk.
    "And don't even get me started on pop music."
    "Oh, don't worry.  Pop music is the least popular music in our room, I can tell you that."
    Again, there is a silence, but Isa is smiling.  Mark follows Jules into the kitchen. He assumes that in there they are beyond anyone's sight, but then he does not know these twins are extra ordinary.
    Janet watches, with her mind's eye, Mark put his hands on Jules' waist and pull her to him. Jules is smiling with her whole being. Janet can hear Jules' private squeals of joy as their lips meet for the first time and she becomes aware of the firmness with which she is squeezing Isa's hand.
    "Can I tell you a secret now?" Isa returns Janet firm contact.
    "M-hm" Janet says - slowly and thoughtfully.
    "You have a remarkably... attractive voice."