Our faces now held a look of surprise rather than smiles. The only apparent difference in us was our hair and build. I'd dyed my hair jet-black a year ago and kept after it, but let it grow long and to my shoulders. There was so much media on me, I had to change my appearance. My muscles made the sleeves of my shirt skin-tight. They were defined and would have intimidated me before I was almost killed. I'd worked out hard to never be a victim of physical pain again.
We didn't sway our eyes from each other for what seemed a very long time. Second bell rang out and we were still paused by our incredible likeness. It felt as if we were the only ones in the room. I couldn't tear my eyes away. This was crazy!
"Nixon. Noah. Do we have a problem?" Finally, I forced myself to look at my desk. I was torn by sheer confusion. What was that? He couldn't really look like me. I was probably just imagining it. But...he looked at me in the same way. Frightened, almost.
"No ma'am." This imposter, this other me, confirmed. He turned his attention to the front of the room. I chanced a look back his way. He doned a Hollister jacket with designer jeans, while I sported a plain white Hanes' tee and black Dickie's. I'd never had the luxery of name brand clothing, even before all the medical bills.
We had the same skin tone. An olive-bronze. I'd been told my coloring had come from the Chippewa indians that my great grandfather had married into. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe indian blood ran high through this area. Maybe he was hispanic. This was Texas after all.
I was still in complete shock. I mean, you can't really have a twin out there in the world, could you?