They’ve had a lifetime of slumber parties.
They speak fluent “twin-speak.”
And now, Sprite and Fanta are ready to spill the biggest secret of all.
Some best friends live in their own private world. They sit in the corner of the room, snickering over inside jokes on a loveseat sized for two.
If you ask what they’re talking about, suddenly all their carbonation goes flat. They’ll smile politely. They may even offer you a Goldfish cracker. But you’ll never know why they were crying-laughing about wombats, or what they do when they’re scared.
Fanta and Sprite are not those kinds of girls.
They are inseparable, but they have enough glitter glue to add you, too. They have been hugging each other since the womb, but their arms are open to more siblings.
They have crossed some bitter rivers, but now everything is cream soda, and they’d love to add a bendy straw for you.
We’ll never know the girls’ mother, but she must have loved them well. Her strength flowed through their veins in the dry and thirsty days. Sprite and Fanta were two of forty-nine animals languishing in a former rescue gone terribly wrong. Their tweedy Siamese coats were threadbare with ringworm, sweet blueberry eyes bloodshot with infection.
When the sisters came to Tabby’s Place, you could count their ribs, like little xylophones playing the sad song of slow starvation. But Sprite and Fanta remembered an even older tune.
Before we even gave them names, they started bubbling over, making blissful “air biscuits” with their paws. Though they could not see our faces through the fog of sickness, they could taste the turning of the tides.
They have been pouring goblets of joy ever since, for everyone they meet. This has something to do with the giblets that restored their strength and plumpness, but not much. Mostly, it is the champagne of sisterhood.
Fanta is fluff-faced like a chrysanthemum, and she will not let those chubby cheeks go to waste. She assumes you are her family and rub-rub-rub-rub-rubby-rub-rubs you accordingly. Now you will share a secret scent. Now her salt-and-pepper hairs will season your sweater. Now you will belong to each other, even if you are parted by seas.
Now you know that she thinks Penny is beautiful, and Murdock would make a good mayor, and the green toy mouse is called “Flavian.”
Sprite is the long-stemmed sister, lean as a flute and ready to carry the melody. She stands on her hind legs to tell you that you were worth waiting for, and turkey is evidence of a Great Mercy, and there are no bad days, just bad moments.
She does not forget the past, but it gets a little more boring every day, because now is the most fascinating place she has ever lived, which has a lot to do with the fact that you are here too.
“Too” may be the twosome’s favorite word. If Sprite goes somewhere, Fanta wants to go, too. If Fanta figures out a puzzle toy, she wants to teach you, too.
If they are both feeling loved and happy, their cup will overflow if they can get you to feel it, too.
But if you ever get shaken up, and all your hope and comfort spray out everywhere, Sprite and Fanta know what to do.
Stay where you are, right there, wet and shivering. Let two lynx-point Siamese cats come up on either side.
Before you can even explain what’s wrong, they will swaddle you in themselves, like a sort of sister-hoodie. They cannot keep this kindness to themselves. They will not leave you outside the family.
They only ask that you spill the secret to the next one who needs it.
PS: Pop a can of your favorite fizzy drink, because we have cause for celebration: the soda sisters have been adopted together! Thanks to their phenomenal adopter for the joy you are about to behold…
