She was similar to me, I guess.
If you ignored all the differences.
People seemed to mix us up. We weren't twins. Shit, we didn't even have the same parents. But people always assumed we were brother and sister.
And because I wore my hair long, and she dressed like me, we often got called by each other's name.
Jellybean was her name. Her parents were on something when she was born, apparently. She looked a bit like a bean, all red and small, they said. So why not Jellybean?
She could have told them why not Jellybean (and frequently did): because kids are mean and it was a strange name for a kid. So she got picked on.
We met on the first day of school when I walked into the playground to find a crowd of kids I knew surrounding this little kid I didn't know.
What you doing? I asked, Tom.
Tom grinned. New kid has a stupid name, he giggled, stupidly.
I shrugged. So what, I said. You have a stupid name.
Tom looked at me and blinked.
Leave her alone, I said, pushing my way to the front. Hey! I said, my name's Jack. I hear you've got a stupid name.
Jellybean grinned.
...
