My name is Lisa Miller and as I put pen to paper, I am 30 years old, no children, never married, a series of medium term unhappy relationships behind me. I am comfortable in and with myself, have a good job managing the UK division of a well known brand of footwear, exercise regularly in a number of ways, and try to conduct myself with confidence. I am happy now, possibly for the first time in my life able to say that with conviction, although the path to and source of that came most unexpectedly. Thus I begin this tale….
_____________
I will begin on one Friday morning in late summer two years ago, the day that could be called The Fateful Day, since it proved to be the pivot point that led to where I am now. It was an average day at its start, work rolling along at a steady pace, not too hot in the office as summer wound down. My sales team of three chattered merrily between calls, my boss thankfully out of the office, as was his wont; likely playing golf or some such as he schmoozed the wealthy contacts garnered from many years of business.
I pushed back my chair and turned it toward the window, stretching out my feet, pointing my toes, absently admiring my legs as I did. My favourite feature of myself, my legs; long and slender, well toned from years of Salsa and yoga classes, I generally displayed them with pride, preferring shorter skirts and low heels for work or dressing up, shorts or leggings for casual wear. At 5’4″ I was a comfortable height but my legs made me look taller.
The rest of me….. Fairly athletic due to the exercise regime, of course. Small boobs, only 34B; too small for my liking but being no fan of cosmetic surgery I was stuck with them. They were pert enough, just small; I guess we always wish for a little more. My face was my least favourite feature though many had described me pretty. I’m sure that clever if subtle make-up application created that illusion well enough but with a bare face in the morning I thought my face plain, the kind you wouldn’t notice in a crowd. Though truth be told, my hazel eyes are large enough and almond enough that with a little eye liner, they draw the eye. My lips are full but I thought my teeth a little too prominent to make a nice smile.
Shoulder length bobbed brunette hair finished the picture. Straight as can be, and shiny, it was my second best feature in my opinion and it framed my face nicely, helping to maintain the illusion of prettiness in the right lighting. All in all I was happy to be me and wished for no embellishments. I drew more than enough attention on nights out as it was. Gorgeous girls seemed constantly harassed, stated with no envy believe me.
So as I stretched and wondered on the day ahead, the office door opened and the cheery tone of my boss’s voice broke through the moment.
“…and this is where you will be working.” He seemed to be rounding off a summary. “Lisa, let me introduce you to your new colleague.”
I tried not to squash the rising resentment that he had recruited someone else without consulting me or even telling me until now and spun my chair round a little too quickly. As my eyes focused on the face next to him, he continued speaking.
“Lisa Miller, meet Lisa Coulson.” He smiled broadly looking from me to her and back again. Thinking back to that moment I wonder what expression my face actually ended up pulling. All I clearly remember is the rising anger with a twist of dread thrown in.
“We’ve met,” she said annoyingly cheerily. “A number of times in fact.”
If she was as annoyed as I, she certainly hid it well.
“Indeed,” I agreed with a distinct lack of cheer. I looked from her to Jerry; he still smiled, no inkling there of what he had done. I looked back to Lisa who was still fixed on me. Our eyes met and she smiled.
“How are you Lisa?” she asked, an air of casual innocence in her silky voice. Not 30 seconds in and she was already winding me up.
“I’m great, you?”
Not waiting for an answer, I quickly stood and turned, walking towards Jerry’s self contained office.
“Jerry, can I have a minute please?” It wasn’t really a question and I kept walking not waiting for a response. Entering his office without stopping, I stood facing his desk opposite, not turning, struggling to maintain my calm. He entered a few seconds later and closed the door, walking around me and sitting himself on the edge of his desk.
“What did I miss?” he queried, clearly concerned now.
“Well aside from hiring someone without consulting or telling me, it had to be her of all people.” I may have spat ‘her’ out a little too venomously. “Since when did we need anyone else anyway?”
He looked uncomfortable, pausing to consider before speaking.
“I’m starting a new sideline. It’ll be more work and I brought her in to manage it alongside you. It’s all happened rather fast so I haven’t had time to discuss it with you, I’m sorry. Honestly didn’t think it would be a problem,” he said calmly.
“Well it may not have been,” I retorted, “but for your istanbul travesti choice of assistant.”
“She won’t be your assistant; I’ve made her Assistant Manager.” He still looked worried.
“Oh that’s just great!” my calm from before they entered the office had almost entirely evaporated. “She and I haven’t just met before, we’ve known each other for a long time. We started school together, went to high school together, went to the same college… To say we don’t get on would be a master stroke of understatement; we hate each other and have been the thorn in each other’s sides for over 20 years!” I felt like crying, my frustration boiling over as I spoke.
Jerry looked like I’d slapped him.
“I see,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for what it’s worth now but this thing is already in motion and she has a contract. Please, for the sake of the business, try and manage it as best you can.”
I couldn’t speak, just nodded to him and spun on my heel, making for the door.
“One more thing and again, I’m sorry. Small as the office is, until I can sort something she will have to share your desk,” he said flatly.
I paused, hand gripping the door handle, nodded without turning then left his office. Looking across to where Lisa was standing, I found her looking back. Our eyes met again and she smiled but my face was a frozen mask. “Hateful bitch,” I thought to myself as I headed back to my desk, looking her up and down as I approached.
We had always been the same height, one of many ways in which we had matched each other as life unfolded. A natural blonde with glacier blue eyes, she had been the one most noticed by the boys. Confident, articulate and talented in sports, she’d certainly never been short of attention from any quarter. She was prettier than me, with high cheek bones, curved lips, even teeth and one of those winning smiles that sickeningly melted hearts. Her boobs were slightly bigger than mine, her hips slightly wider, waist slightly narrower, like every feature she had was just a little better; one source of the ever present hatred I felt towards her. Only her legs could not be said to be better than mine, them being the one thing about me that drew the most attention.
She wore her hair now in a shoulder length bob, very similar to mine if a little more angled as it slanted towards her collar. She looked good, of course, immaculately dressed in a skirt suit of finest night blue cotton, the hem line mid thigh, as was mine, jacket draped casually over one arm. Her blouse was white, short sleeved and collarless. She looked uneasy now, as I sat myself back down at the desk and began to tidy it to make a space.
“Apparently we’ll be sharing a desk, which is just delightful. There is an adjustable desk chair in the store room that should do. Anything else you need, just say so.” I didn’t look up.
“Lisa, listen,” she began quietly. I paused and raised my eyes. “I know this isn’t ideal but we’re both adults so let’s just make the best of it eh?”
She looked earnest enough. We searched each other’s faces for a few moments, before making eye contact again. She raised an eyebrow in query.
“Fine. I have a lot of respect for Jerry and for his sake, I will be professional,” I said with as little inflection as possible. “Make yourself comfortable,” I added, switching my attention back to tidying the desk.
She hesitated a moment and I thought she would speak again but instead turned quietly and made her way the store room next to Jerry’s office. I watched her walk away, the way her hips swayed, her grace and posture always picture perfect. How I hated her.
_______
At this point, it may be politic to fill in some background on our story, this other Lisa and I, to give substance to our mutual dislike. I’ll begin on the day we first met; the first day of school for us both, aged five.
We were both delighted to find out there was another Lisa and from the first meeting became inseparable. Known mostly as The Lisas, we literally did everything together, including sleepovers at least once a week. Our school mates instinctively knew the rules as well and neither of us was invited to anything without the assumption that we were both included. It was bliss in all honesty. I had an older brother and fun as he was, I couldn’t join in with most of his activities so having my Lisa-twin was perfect.
This unbreakable bond of friendship continued without incident or fallings-out for six years. Our parents marvelled at how quickly and easily we resolved our differences, sometimes almost without needing to talk, as if sharing some telepathic bond. In our final year of Primary School, however, this came to an abrupt and unpleasant end when a third party managed to upset our balance.
His name was Gareth. His family had moved to our village from Wales and he started at our school at the beginning of our final Primary year. He was dark haired, dark eyed, polite, quick witted and a natural athlete. Most of the girls in our school year istanbul travestileri took an immediate shine to him and he made easy friends with many of the boys. Lisa and I trapped him into a question and answer fairly early on and he took it in good grace and humour, seeming amused by our dynamic. We spent an amount of time with him from then on, enjoying his company, though never alone with him without each other.
Then at the end of one school day, a few weeks into the autumn term, I had dashed to the toilet before leaving and couldn’t find Lisa outside. Ordinarily, if one of us was delayed, the other would wait and we would walk home together, either to her house or mine. After six years of continuity, it was unthinkable to me that this could change. She had gone, however, this being confirmed to me by a mutual friend.
“She walked home with Gareth,” said Amanda, looking as surprised as I.
I said nothing, merely nodded to her and ran home, my face burning, tears stinging, a whirlwind of jealous confusion. I liked Gareth, we both did but him coming between us was inconceivable. I burst into the house, still beside myself, drawing immediate concern from my Mum.
“What on Earth has happened? Are you hurt?” she quizzed, pulling me to her, searching my eyes.
“Lisa walked home with Gareth. She didn’t tell me, didn’t wait for me,” I blurted, my voice breaking.
Adult calm was expected of course; sometimes they didn’t see the importance of little things.
“I’m sure there is a good reason, Lis; you two are unbreakable.” She smiled down at me, pulling me into a hug.
I was far from calmed by that but I managed to stop crying uncontrollably and asked to use the phone. Lisa’s Mum answered, called to her and Lisa came to the phone after a few moments.
“What happened?” I gasped, still very upset. “You went home with Gareth, didn’t wait for me?”
“Are you jealous or something?” She sounded strange, distant.
“Of course I am!” I was angry now; what a stupid question.
“You thought you could have him to yourself. I’m glad you’re jealous,” she said in a low voice.
I had no idea what she was talking about, the thought had never crossed my mind. She was the most important thing to me, not this charming Welsh boy. Yet here it was; she had ditched me for the first time in our friendship to be with him.
“What the hell?!” I shouted. “Are you mental?”
“Get over it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She put the phone down.
My anger simmered, towards both her and Gareth. Ignoring my Mum’s questions, I stormed to my room and stewed, my mood hanging like a cloud for the rest of the evening. I slept a restless night and still felt angry upon waking. Walking to school alone, I prepared myself to confront them.
Lisa was already in the playground when I arrived, Gareth with her of course. I stormed straight over and spun her around, slapping her face before she could react. Tears formed, her face reddened and not just from the slap. Then she snapped, growled at me and lunged, grabbing two handfuls of my hair. I had expected this, grabbed back and we tussled, raging, yanking at each other’s hair, bumping faces, until two of the teachers managed to run over and pull us apart. Both of us were crying uncontrollably, Gareth standing open mouthed to the side.
“I hate you!” I screamed at Lisa, struggling in Miss Andrews arms.
“You don’t get it, dumbass!” she screamed back.
And that, as they say, was that. So ended a long and perfect friendship. We didn’t speak to each other again, save for the odd angry and sarcastic exchange and the rest of the school year was horrible. I wanted nothing more to do with Gareth either, much to his disappointment. From what I understood from mutual friends, neither did Lisa, which came as no small surprise to me. My Parents with characteristic lack of understanding seemed to think I was overreacting and pleaded with me to make up with her but the harder they pushed, the more I dug my heels in.
The following year was our first at High School and we ended up in different classes so managed to avoid each other for the most part. There were to be a number of clashes in the future, though neither of us had an inkling of that yet.
The first came during a hockey try-out for the school team. We were both reasonable sporty so it was inevitable we would be there. There were enough girls at the try-out to split into two teams and so we played a quick match to show off our skills. Not long in I was running with the ball and Lisa came in fast, body checking me, rolling me to the floor. She looked down smiling. Once more my rage boiled over; I felt as angry with her now as I had when we tussled the previous year and I rolled to my feet and launched myself at her.
I slammed into her chest to chest and we went down immediately, me rolling on top of her, grabbing her hair with both hands. She clamped my legs with hers, also grabbing my hair and we rolled back and forth each trying to stay on top until, travesti istanbul as before, two teachers managed to pull us apart.
“What the devil is wrong with you two?” asked one, astonished.
“They hate each other miss,” ventured one of our mutual friends. “Used to be best friends but now they hate each other.”
Lisa and I said nothing, merely glowered at each other.
“That’s a shame,” said the hockey coach, “you two looked promising but we can’t have bad blood on the team.”
We were dispatched to the changing rooms with one teacher in tow to supervise. Neither of us got a place on the team.
Little incidents like this happened a few times a year as we went through school, though each time we were separated before we could do each other any real harm. Rather than calming down and forgetting our feud, though, I felt like it was building in heat and ferocity, that one day there would come a reckoning and we would not be stopped. We each seemed incapable of just ignoring the other, snipes and barbed comments being fairly common. We still had mutual friends and managing our toxic confrontations must have been very awkward for them.
So time passed, we grew into young women, began seeing boys, finding distraction from our feud in the myriad complications hormones and relationships can bring. We never seemed to escape each other’s orbit tough, like we had our own gravitational attraction inevitably pulling us back together. The number of detentions we received for physical altercations was staggering, the Head Master remarking on more than one occasion that he has never seen two young women maintain enmity with such vigour.
The years rolled by and our time at High School came to an end, College life looming. Staying at home and attending locally, it came as no great surprise to me to see Lisa sitting in the cafeteria there on our first day. Our eyes met, locked, causing momentary consternation in her new found college friends before I moved away, looking for my new class mates. We avoided each other for the most part, being in different classes but our mutual attractive force eventually pulled us back together…
I was invited to a party, as is common at college age. A class-mate living away from home in a shared student house invited me. I had just turned 18 and while being no stranger to alcohol, my Mum was more relaxed about it now I was of legal drinking age; still living at home, I was respectful of my parents’ wishes.
I was a little late arriving and the party was in good spirits already when I made my appearance. Janelle, the friend who invited me, greeted me in the living room with a Tequila sunrise and I drank half of it down in one to catch up. My eyes scanned the room, registering the faces I knew, the ones I didn’t but liked the look of, moving around to the circular dining table at the other end of the split room. There looking back at me from the other side of the table was Lisa, of course. I wondered if anyone in the room felt the slight rise in temperature as we scowled at each other. This would be a fun night one way or another, I mused to myself, turning my attention back to my drink and hovering friend.
Drinks flowed, dancing ensued, it was shaping up to be a fun night and thus far Lisa and I had managed to avoid direct contact. It couldn’t last though; this had become a force of nature, though I could never have predicted what would happen. Moving from the kitchen past the dining table, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into an empty chair. Already half cut, I sat heavily, laughing at the clumsy intervention. A fairly good looking lad grinned at me.
“Spin the bottle!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. A chorus of cheers came by way of reply and he leaned over to me. “You’re well gorgeous you know, hope my luck is in.”
I blushed, laughing. In truth, this was the first time anyone had said such a thing to me and although I was sure it was alcohol inspired, I glowed. I had made some effort to look good for the party, sporting a very short skirt, bare legs, three inch heels and a very tight cotton top with a lace up front that pulled my boobs together, giving me an almost reasonable cleavage. Subtle make-up, carefully shaped dark eye-liner, I imagine I looked pretty good to an inebriated student lad.
The bottle was spun a number of times as it made its rounds, kisses were exchanged, some short, some long and intense. My turn came and I spun it as fast as I could. It stopped pointing dead opposite me and a number of breaths were drawn. At this point I became aware of the seating arrangement at the table. Traditionally, of course, there are guys on one side, girls on the other, so no matter where the bottle stops, one end is pointing at the opposite sex. In my drunken state I hadn’t taken stock of the situation and was sitting on the wrong side of the table. I looked up at the face at the other end of the bottle in a slight daze. There, with an utterly unreadable expression, sat Lisa.
The atmosphere at the table was lively, fun. There were oohs and aahs punctuated with laughter. I reached for the bottle and spun it again, raising a numbers of boos. It stopped pointing dead at Lisa again. We stared at each other, poker faced. She now reached forward, grasped the bottle and spun it almost lazily.