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Alice and I, though we do look very similar, look more like sisters than twins. This was especially evident when we were kids. Alice was much taller than me; I was small and babyfaced. Alice's height gave her plenty of advantages. She could reach for the cookie jar without stacking three cookbooks on a chair. She ran faster than most kids our age, and won most games of tag. The only game I was better at was hide-and-seek. I could squeeze into tight places easily. But no one every congratulates someone for being good at hiding. It didn't really matter that I was a good student, either. I got the highest grades. The books I read in third grade were written for middle school students. My classmates came to me with questions, and I was always happy to help. I was a star in the classroom. Then PE would come and I'd be picked last. We were kids: being good at tag and dodgeball mattered more than reading levels. People cheered when Alice outran an older boy; no one cheered at my science project. Alice tried to make me feel better by picking me first whenever she was team captain. That always made the teachers beam at her. They seemed so touched by her gesture of sisterly love. But, even though I knew she wasn't being condescending, her picking me first always made me feel like I was the little sister in need of help. Already strangers mistook her for the elder daughter; her kindness reminded me that I looked much younger, and that I needed her to not be totally invisible. All I had back then were my smarts. When strangers asked me how much younger I was, I'd icily respond that we were twins. Their eyebrows flew up in surprise. They looked to Alice for

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2017 Word for Work Workshop ebook  

2017 Word for Work Workshop ebook  

Profile for cusoa