Zena looked up from studying the school floor plan she had in her hand, and realized she was lost. How was she supposed to find room 213 when the walls were covered in trophy cases, showing team victories going back into the early 1990's. The fascinating part was there were Pettigrew family member names on a few of them. At least in the late 1990's and none from then on.

Folding the map, she started to retrace her steps hoping to find something familiar when she heard footsteps pounding toward her from one of the side halls. Before she could figure out which way to turn, she crashed to the floor.

"Holy shit!"

Who the hell would be running like that in the halls of a school? And why did the voice sound like the last recording she'd made of herself to go with a selfie?

"No kidding, holy shit. What were you doing running like that?" Zena couldn't believe her eyes. The girl looked exactly like her. She might as well have been her reflection.

"I'm going to be late for homeroom."

"Me too. I'm lost. But I've got to get to a mirror. I swear I'm seeing myself." Zena couldn't keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Are you real?"

What's with her? Last time I pinched myself it hurt.

"Of course, I knocked you over, didn't I?"

"The girl's locker room is right around the corner. We can take two minutes and check this out. Then, if you can run, I'll take you to your home room."

Her voice sounded just as shaky as Zena felt.

"I hope I didn't break my laptop. It's the only thing I have to talk to anyone on."

"What? No cell phone?" She sounded sympathetic. "I'll catch an earful if I broke my laptop, but I think it's okay."

"It's a long story." Zena didn't want to get into it.

The girl pushed the door open and walked into the locker room turning right toward a row of sinks in a long countertop. The mirror showed two identical mouths, slightly open in shock. Her eyes were a brighter blue, but then again, she was wearing contact lenses to change the color. She knew their real color was the same silvery blue grey of the other girl's.

"Hey, what's your name? I'm Lacey Pemberton, senior. And why are we identical except for eye color? I mean you even have the same lip gloss I do. Revlon medium rose, right?"

"Zena Henderson, I'm a senior too. I wear contacts. I hate my eye color and the blue goes better with the blonde dye I love. My hair is usually mousy brown. And, yeah, that's my shade of lip gloss." She knew she sounded conceited and fake, but she didn't think anything other than the truth would be a good idea. This girl was too much alike. She had to know why.

"You picked the exact hair color mine turns to after a summer in the sun," Lacy said. "We even did our hair the same way. Great minds think alike."

Zena laughed hollowly.

"My Dad wouldn't agree. I'm in the doghouse."

Why did I let that slip out? I don't know Lacey from a dog turd in a field.

I've got to take a picture. I mean she's standing there right beside me, and I know she looks like me, but damn, seeing us in the mirror? Why? What's going on? How is there someone identical to me in the world?

"Come on, we've got about three minutes to make it across to the east wing. What's your homeroom?"

Good, she ignored the doghouse comment.

"213. But just a sec. Can you take a picture of us in the mirror? I haven't got a phone, or I would."

Lacey whipped out her phone snapping a couple of pictures.

"Convenient. That's my home room too. Aren't we going to make an entrance! Follow me, we're going to have to jog, even if we get caught running it's better than being late to class on the first day of school." Lacey grabbed her pack and headed out the door. "Why are you in the doghouse?"

Now she remembers.

"Again, long story. Are you an only child? I know it's rude, but I am. I have to know are we twins?" Zena found she had no trouble keeping up Lacey's half jog. "I mean how can we not know about each other?"

"I am. My parents never had another. Now I'm wondering about a lot of things. Like am I adopted? They never told me if I am. I've never felt like anything is missing in my life. But I'm pissed. How could anyone separate twins. I mean we have to be twins. I'm still trying to make myself believe there's someone identical to me in the world."

"Me too. Do we get a DNA test? Like before we ask our parents?" Zena flew up two flights of stairs behind Lacey. "Like I'm following you, and I still can't believe you're real."

How am I going to remember which way goes where? This school is huge. And man, do I ever have questions for Dad. I mean what in the hell is this.

"I warn you, everyone in town is going to know about us before we can do anything. But I want that DNA test. Maybe 23 and Me might be the way to go?"

"I hate this place already. I wanted to stay in Denver for my last year of high school. Gossip isn't going to make it any worse. I don't think 23 and Me will give us what we want. They only go into ancestry and a couple of specific genetic traits to do with cancer and stuff," Zena said.

At least I think that's how it works. What if I'm adopted? What if Dad's not my dad?

Lacey stopped to peek out into the hall.

"I'm checking for the hall monitor. No one in sight, we got lucky. Let's walk into class like nothing's out of the ordinary. I want to see the expression on everyone's face when they figure it out." Lacey stepped into the hall. "Give us a chance. We're not that bad."

"If a match for parents is on file, it will tell us that too," Zena said as Lacey half shook herself spraying fine droplets of water from her wet ponytail. She squared her own shoulders, going through the door into room 213 as the bell rang. Lacey was right behind her.

She barely heard her whisper, "I know."

"Cutting it a little fine, Lacey?" The teacher's voice was laced with sarcasm.

"I'm not Lacey. I'm Zena."

Let the chaos begin.