Two identical smiles beamed down over the bannister, and from the coffee table, and in the hallway. If you looked closely at the photos scattered around the mansion by proud, absent parents, you could make out minor differences, but for all intents and purposes from their platinum blonde hair to their hot pink pedicures, the teenaged girls pictured were essentially twins.
It was easy enough for the McMillan girls to get the stone back from Karyn, but even though it was safe in the possession of his sister, Jon thought in retrospect that he had given it back to Sarah a little too easily. She did make a compelling case on why she should keep it though, and after she finished, it made perfect sense. The oldest always knew best. He was Sarah's little sister, and it was only right for her to have the stone- Jon was glad he listened to her.
In fact, ever since that day in the locker room, Sarah and him had talked a lot. It was like he craved her opinion on everything, and like a sponge, he just wanted to soak it all up! The only problem was, as the days turned into weeks, he didn't really know where Sarah's suggestions started or ended anymore. He just listened and took her advice to heart. Now, between all primping and preening, he sometimes had to think really hard to remember being Jon. But that wasn't all bad, was it? Sarah helped him realize that he actually liked being cute. Between the ruffles, the bows, the headbands and earrings, the possibilities were endless! As Jon fussed in the mirror with his red satin headband, he connected the dots. He wasn't exactly sure between which heart-to-heart advising session with Sarah when it happened, but when it did, it hit Jon like a ton of bricks. Jon now knew the truth, and it was both frightening and exhilarating at the same time; he wanted to be Paige. It was fun to dress himself up. Fun to go out shopping with his friends. Fun to be a little heartbreaker. Fun to be popular. Fun, fun, fun! Paige McMillan; heartbreaker. He kind of liked the sound of that. Such was life though when you were a winner of the genetic lottery. It was your birthright when you had a rich father, model for a mother and head cheerleader as big sister and role model.
Jon was content. His hair was perfect, his makeup was perfect, his jewelry was perfect, everything was perfect. If his purple Alexander McQueen butterfly cap-sleeve dress didn't knock them dead at the party tonight at Mandi's, then his long smoky black tight-covered legs with Christian Louboutin booties would. Or maybe it would be his Rachel Zoe handbag, or, if the wind picked up, a quick glimpse at his Diane von Furstenburg panties. Paige McMillan always got noticed. He was ready to walk out the door a newly minted McMillan-princess, completely self-absorbed by Sarah's suggestions, but as his eyes darted for that one final accessory, he noticed a red shiny stone on the floor in front of him. It was too big for a necklace, too cloudy to be worth anything, yet Jon felt like he could use it for something. His first thought was that it would make a great pool diving-prize, or maybe a gaudy new doorknob, but decided he'd figure out what to do with the weird-looking object later. He had a party to get to!
