"We need two more classes," Logan says.
"Yeah." I check the clock on the wall. We've been here- in the library registering for classes for almost a whole hour.
"What about . . . this one?" Logan points at his computer monitor. Advanced Theatre Project.
"God, I hate drama."
"Come on. You can choose the last one. Please?"
I shake my head. "Why d'you buy into that crap?"
"Hey, acting is just as cool as sports, or art, or music."
Whatever. Drama is not acting.
He cocks his head to the side and raises his eyebrow at me. "Come on. I'll do whatever you want. Just do this for me."
That makes me actually think about it. In a way it's my fault that we need to have the same schedule, and the least I can do is let him pick some of our classes. "Sure, whatever," I say.
"Awesome; thanks Kade. You can choose the last class."
I scroll through the list of classes on the school computer, watching the text blur together.
"What about Spanish . . . or computer?" Logan suggests.
"Uh, I dunno." Acting is just as cool as art, huh? I scroll down the list of class headings. Visual and Performing Arts. "How about this one?" I point to Drawing 2.
"Drawing two?" he asks. "Can't we do one instead?"
"Not if we're doing advanced theatre."
"You're gonna make me look like an idiot."
I roll my eyes at him. "Hey, I'll help you. You'll be fine."
He gives me a skeptical face and signs up for the class. "Advanced Theatre, first period. Drawing two, second period."
I search through the list of classes and select them, check to make sure my screen matches Logan's, then hit submit. It's about time. I log off and stand. Let's get the heck out of here.
"I'll print off the schedule," Logan says. He clicks his mouse and then heads for the printer. He comes back with the schedule, logs off his computer, and pushes his chair in. "Let's wait to call Mom," he says as he checks his watch.
"Why?" I ask.
"I wanna look around a little, so we don't get lost on Friday. Come on, Kade. It'll only take a bit." Logan turns toward the door. He could care less that I'm exhausted. I roll my eyes.
Logan leads the way out of the library, into a courtyard. I stare ahead at the huge theatre and try to wrap my head around this school. It has at least seven different buildings, spread out across an outdoor campus. It's way different than West Linn High back in Oregon. I guess with Californian weather, it's perfectly fine if you need to go outside to get to every one of your classes. I'm going to miss the rain.
Logan takes out the school map. I step in close to take a look at the schedule. Drawing 2 – 309 H. We just came out of Building C.
I look left, past the Berkeley Theatre. The first thing I notice is the sculpture on the side of the H Building, a naked man on a horse, spearing a sea serpent. The words catch my eye: YOU SHALL KNOW THE TRUTH AND THE TRUTH SHALL MAKE YOU FREE. The truth shall make me free, huh? Whatever.
The door to the H Building opens and two girls come out and head across the courtyard. They both have a box of cheerleading equipment, mostly red and gold pom-poms. My hand automatically shoots up to my medic alert pendant, and I slip it underneath my shirt. The cold metal feels heavy against my chest. The cheerleaders spot us and come straight up like we were supposed to meet here. Vanilla and fruity perfume fills my nose.
"You look lost," the first girl says. She has long red hair—dyed plum-red—and tan skin—mystic fake-bake. Her jean skirt cuts off mid-thigh to reveal long, muscular legs. She's about half a foot taller than the girl next to her, who is short like Lissa, my old girlfriend back in Oregon.
Lissa. I don't even know when I'll see her again. If I'll see her again. My throat tightens up. I can barely breathe.
"Is it that obvious?" Logan asks. He folds up the schedule and map together and stuffs them into his pocket.
I shouldn't think about Lissa. The last thing I need is to break down into tears now, here. I swallow the lump in my throat.
"You must be new," the other girl says. She's blonde, just as attractive, but in a natural, girl-next-door way. Nowhere near as fake as the redhead. Her voice is low and sexy. She's really short, but perfectly proportioned.
"Yeah, we just transferred. I'm Logan Hastings, and this is my bro Kaden."
"I'm Stephanie," the redhead says. "It's nice to meet you, Logan and Kaden." She gazes at me—I stare over her shoulder at the theatre building with its Greek style sculpture and cylindrical shape.
"I'm Megan." The blonde sets her box on her hip. "We were just going to the Jacket Gym. Do you wanna come?"
"Yeah, I was just wondering where the gym is," Logan says with a smile. "D'you need a hand with that?" He gestures to the redhead's box. What's her name? Starts with an S . . . Stephanie. Logan's totally flirting.
"No, it's not heavy at all." Stephanie moves the box up and down to demonstrate how light it is. The contents clunk against the cardboard. Yep, mostly pompoms. "This way." She steps to the right and walks along the C Building. "We have two gyms, you know?" She points her box straight ahead. "The Jacket gym is in the EB, oh, that stands for E Building. This is the quad. It's where all the cool people hang between classes. Then the Food Court is in the DB—" she swings her box to the left at the building with all the offices. "And that's about all you need to know."
I follow everyone across the courtyard and into a building with a big E etched into the side, through a huge entryway decked out with trophies. I zone out big time, barely listening to the conversation as Logan continues to flirt, until he mentions that we're twins.
"Oh my god, really?" Stephanie asks. She turns around and walks backward in front of us. "That's so cool. You're not identical," she points out, looking back and forth at us. She looks right into my face like she's known me for years.
I like that my brother and I are fraternal twins. It means people can tell us apart, but we're still twins, which makes us special. Logan has brown straight hair, while I have black curly hair. His eyes are gray, and mine are brown. We both have a rather dark skin tone because our great grandparents are Filipino and Latino and Japanese. Which makes us bi-racial, but I think we're just plain American.
"You're very observant," Logan says to Stephanie. She scoffs and kicks out at him. He avoids her foot and laughs at her.
"Observant enough to notice that you're both obviously jocks," Stephanie shoots back. A compliment masquerading as an insult. That almost makes me smile. I still look like a jock, even if I haven't touched a basketball in half a year.
"If basketball shorts make me a jock, then what do pom-poms make you?" Logan teases. He reaches for Stephanie's box, but she dodges away.
"Basketball?" Megan tilts her head to one side.
"Uh, yeah we played at our old school." Logan glances over at me.
Played. As in past tense. Not anymore.
"You must be really good," Stephanie says in this tone of voice that makes me wonder if she's making fun of Logan or teasing him back.
"Oh, you know. Varsity last year." Logan shrugs. The girls exchange glances.
"Are you seniors?" Megan asks.
"Juniors," Logan says. "You?"
"Us too." Stephanie smiles playfully.
"You don't say much." Megan leans over to stare me in the face. She has bright green eyes and a black beauty mark below her left eye. Wow, she's really pretty.
"Uh." I shrug, but my body is so tight my shoulders barely move.
"You must have something to say," Stephanie says, still walking backward in front of us. She shifts her box onto her hip and slows down. I stop in my tracks, and so does she, raising her eyebrows and coming close. I try not to look away, but I end up staring at her feet—brown sandals, red toenails.
I glance over at Logan. He smirks at me, completely stoked to see both of these girls going after me. I sigh. Just great. Not only do I have to be reminded of basketball and Lissa, but now I get to be chased around by cheerleaders.
"If my brother ever shut up," I start, "Maybe there'd be something to say." Logan elbows me in the side, playing up the retaliation act, but he barely touches me. Stephanie laughs, though I'm not sure if it's because I'm funny, or because Logan acted so flustered.
"Oooh, tall, dark, handsome, and mysterious," Megan says with a smile.
Stephanie spins around and leads us past a concession stand and ticket booth, through the double doors into the gym. Permanent bleachers line both sides of the gym. There's a running track around the whole room, above the bleachers, kind of like a huge balcony. Then more seats.
The floor is really nice wood. All of the baskets are down. It looks like they have practice here. I study the walls above the bleachers, which are covered in gold and red record banners.
The games in here must be so awesome, when the whole gym is packed. It gives me the chills to remember what it's like to play in front of such a big crowd.
Stephanie walks past me, swaying her butt. I roll my eyes and turn away. Megan follows after her, this cute bounce to her step. She even walks like Lissa. They both disappear through a door under the bleachers.
"Dude, what's wrong?" Logan whispers.
"Everything," I say under my breath.
Logan frowns and cocks his head. "Hey, did you see the way those two were looking at you? They're totally into you, especially that blonde."
I stare away.
"Come on, Kade. Two hot cheerleaders want you. You should be stoked." He steps up and bumps elbows with me. "Which one do you want?"
I'm a single guy in California, I think, trying to cheer myself up. Going in for the rebound. "The blonde?"
"Alright!" Logan bumps knuckles with me and grins.
"Basketball tryouts start next week," Megan says as she comes out of the storage room, followed by Stephanie.
Logan glances at me. "Really?" He sounds too casual.
"Yeah, you two should totally try out," Stephanie says. "Shoot for JV, that's the team we cheer for." She tilts her head at Megan and twirls her hair around her finger. Yeah right. Just thinking about playing puts me on edge. I don't know if I could, but it doesn't matter. Mom would never let me.
The bell rings, one of those fancy electronic bells, pinging four times.
"Lame, we have class," Stephanie says.
"We'll see you around, right?" Megan asks.
"Yeah, we're starting on Friday." Logan follows them over to the door.
I pull out my cell phone and call Mom. The phone rings twice, then she answers it. "Hello?"
"Hi."
"Oh hi, sweetie. I was just about to call you. I've been waiting in the parking lot for you. Are you ready?"
"Yep."
"Did you turn in the medical records?"
"Yes, Mom," I say, trying to sound annoyed. I check my pocket for the forms.
"How did it go?" she asks.
The question catches me off guard, but I've turned in medical records before. "It was weird . . . Can we not talk about it?"
"Kaden, you know you have to get used to talking about it. They say the more comfortable you are with it, the more comfortable other people will be when you tell them."
Yeah, right. "I know," I say, anxious for this conversation to be over.
"Well, I'll see you in a little bit."
"Yep. Bye." I end the call and empty my pockets. Stare down at my ex-girlfriend Lissa's letter. I should read it today. I owe Lissa that much. I pocket the letter and switch my focus to the medical records. This isn't all that I am, and this is my chance to just be me again. I know I need to turn these forms in. I will eventually, but not today. I stuff the forms back into my pocket. Take a big breath. No turning back.
I go after Logan. "Let's get the heck out of here," I say, but I'm actually not dying to leave. And I know exactly why. Somebody here wants me for who I truly am—a tall, dark, mysterious, single guy.
~*~
Author Note: Here's another bonus chapter for you! Since it appears in my other book, it's not an original chapter and doesn't count toward the contest. But I feel like it's important to the story. Thanks for reading! Vote and comment if you enjoyed getting to know Kaden and Logan a little!