A Kiss in the Snow - Rosie Green Page 0,1

with my twin sister, Krystle, back in February.

He made the ‘double trouble’ joke, which usually makes my sister and I groan in private, because that’s what everyone says. (Along with other classics, like: Do you dress the same? Can you read each other’s thoughts? I hope you don’t mind but I bought you a joint birthday card and present!) But out of Adam’s mouth, the ‘double trouble’ quip sounded hilarious. Krystle’s laugh was genuine, too, and I tried not to judge the amount of eye contact I was having with him, compared to my sister.

Krystle is the shinier, more extrovert version of me. She’s always attracted all the flirtiest glances. At school, boys liked me as a friend. But it was always Krystle and her brilliant blue eyes and her way of flicking back her sleek blonde hair that got them dreaming of something more than friendship, and I was glad for her. She was never as accepting of herself as I was. I knew my limitations and I was fine with them. But my sister, for all her charms, had less self-confidence.

I was born first, Krystle eight minutes later. And I’ve naturally taken on the role of looking after my sister, ever since we were little.

We had to fend for ourselves quite a lot as kids. Our parents were always consumed with each other and their hotel business, and I think they just assumed that because we were twins - sharing an exclusive bubble that even included our own mysterious, made-up language when we were small - we didn’t really need anyone else. I suppose that was true up to a point. And I didn’t complain when at Christmas – one of the busiest times in the catering industry – we were shipped off to our grandparents in Leeds, while Mum and Dad fussed over their hotel guests on the big day, instead of us.

I was fine with it. (I guess I’m more stoical than my sister.) But Krystle was always unusually quiet on the journey to Leeds, and I knew she was upset at the separation. So I would make an extra effort to be happy and bubbly, to try and cheer her up. And once we were welcomed by our lovely grandparents, Krystle would start smiling again, and I would breathe a sigh of relief.

I’ve always been Krystle’s protector and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sure, yes, the number of times a boy I liked turned out to prefer my sister was disheartening, to say the least. Especially as we passed from our teenage years, into our twenties.

I’m under no illusions about my own attractiveness.

I have fine, naturally blonde hair, the same blue eyes as my sister and a dimple in my right cheek (Krystle also has a dimple, but hers is in her left cheek). Back in the day, a boy called Tom in my class at catering college told me that when I smiled, my whole face lit up and my blue eyes shone like sapphires. I’ve never forgotten that. Tom was lovely. But he was also utterly devoted to a girl at the college called Helen, who was training to be a beauty therapist.

That’s always been the case with me. The guys I like invariably just want me as a friend, and those who seem interested are either unavailable or I just can’t imagine us hitting it off long-term.

It was hard at times. But I just kept telling myself it was because I hadn’t met the person who was right for me. When I did – when I finally met ‘him’ - he would gaze at me with the sort of entranced look I’d seen on the faces of Krystle’s many admirers.

It wasn’t ideal, but I told myself I was happy to wait.

Because the wait would be worth it. A hundred times over.

And now…after Wednesday night…I’m actually starting to believe that my wait might be over!

‘Hey, you. Hope you haven’t been waiting too long?’ Adam’s here, smiling down at me as he removes his navy coat, bringing with him a hint of the freezing air out on the high street.

‘No, no. Just the usual twelve minutes.’

‘You’ve been timing my lateness?’

I grin at him as he sits down opposite. ‘Gives me something to do while I’m twiddling my thumbs, looking like I’ve been stood up.’

‘Remind me to buy you a travel Solitaire for Christmas.’

‘I’ll hold you to that. But I hope it won’t be my main present.’

‘Main present?’ He pretends to look shocked. ‘I