They were best friends; had all the nice clothes, matching outfits, matching shoes, spent as much time at the other’s house as their own. Even their names rhymed, Abby and Ashley.

I had a best friend, too, but we were pretty different. I led, she followed. We laughed as we made fun of the ‘bubblegum twins’. You could just envision them chewing gum and giggling together. When they looked our way, we snarled. They hated us.

If we spilled our milk in the cafeteria, they told. It was better to make the moves first, control the situation, than to be burned by it.

So we chased them on the playground, cut in front of them in line, and tried the hardest in P.E. to beat their team.

This only made them stick together more.

I guess I was jealous of their real friendship.

After school they had dance practice, or gymnastics, and they were always picked up by one of their mothers. But when the bell rang at the end of the school day, I went to my house and my friend went to hers and our lives did not cross.