We Thought We Were Invincible

by Michelle MacQueen

  Morgan dribbled in circles around the field. The saturated ground wasn't absorbing the water as it pooled in bare spots. I ran toward her, splashing through a puddle. The water seeped into my sneakers and I didn't even care. I was swept up in whatever Morgan was experiencing. I just wanted to have fun.

  Patches of the field soon turned to mud. One foot hit first, and then the other was flying through the air, propelling me onto my back. The wind rushed from my lungs and I was left stunned as a laughing Morgan stood over me. She reached her hand down, and I yanked, sending her sprawling in the mud beside me.

  She laughed so hard her breath wheezed in and out. I suddenly got why everyone liked her so much. She looked over at me, grinning. It was her ability to make anyone feel like they too were good enough. She could be friends with anyone and here she was lying in the mud with me. She didn't make you feel like a charity case, only liked.

  I sprang up, twisting to look at the mud that now stretched from my calves, up over my shorts, leaving a smear across the back of my t-shirt, and even into my hair.

  A shiver ran the length of my spine and I looked down to see Morgan hugging herself as well.

  “Hot tea?” I asked.

  “Oh, definitely.”

  We made the walk home and for once I hadn't been thinking about Jay or Jamie or even my mom. That's what would make this year great. I just wanted to think about the present. Nothing deep. Nothing bad. If I stayed like that, nothing could touch me.

  The boys looked up from their game when we walked in. Colby's jaw dropped as he took in our muddy appearance.

  “Soccer.” Morgan shrugged.

  Jamie nodded in understanding. Colby's eyes darted between me and his girlfriend, unsure of what to say.

  Morgan giggled as she leaned down to give him a quick kiss. “Sorry boys, Callie is just more fun than you.”

  Jamie mouthed my name in question as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing, and I stared daggers at him.

  “Come on, Callie,” Morgan pulled on my arm. “Mind if I borrow some clothes?”

  Morgan Cook was borrowing clothes from me, Callie McCoy. What kind of alternate universe had I stepped in to?

  To the average person, the next couple weeks wouldn't have looked anything other than normal. I went to school, trying my hardest to get through my classes without falling asleep. Afterwards, I'd hop in the truck, listening to it sputtering as it transported me to the diner where I'd work the dinner rush. Then it was home to do my homework and go to bed.

  Morgan hung around more, providing the little variety I had. I found myself getting more comfortable around her. It wasn't a hard thing to do. Colby was still infatuated, much to my surprise. My brother wasn't known for having the longest attention span when it came to dating. With Morgan insisting on spending time with both of us, I ended up actually hanging out with my brother more than I had in awhile.

  Jamie was scarce. I didn't know if it was because of my presence and the resentment I still saw in his eyes over the things I'd said, despite the kiss, or if it was because things were going well for him and Amelia. At school, they could be seen holding hands or being sickeningly coupley.

  I wasn't jealous. I swore to myself that I still couldn't stand the sight of him. I just hated seeing him and Amelia together more.

  I didn't hear from Jay. Two weeks was a long time for the two of us to go without talking. I assumed he was busy with school and trying to change his non-partying ways. For me, it was that I was enjoying not having to rely on him for everything for the first time in years. I still missed him though.

  I was walking through the hall at school when Morgan sidled up beside me and threw her arm around my shoulders. “What are we doing for your birthday?”

  I glanced at her before looking forward again and shrugging. It may have been my imagination, but people seemed to part in front of us. Probably the Morgan effect. This school wasn't nearly as intimidating with her by my side.

  “We have to do something.” She squeezed me tighter.

  “Colby's having a party at the beach on Saturday.” I wasn't much for birthdays or any day that put the attention on me.

  “I know that.” Morgan flipped her hair out of her face and waved at someone we passed. “But that's for Colby. Just because you're a twin, doesn't mean you don't deserve a day that's just about you.”

  “It doesn't really bother me.” That was the truth. It didn't. Colby had always had parties while I opted to just let the day pass.

  “Well, it bothers me,” she huffed.

  We turned into our classroom, and she finally released me to take my seat. Leaning across her desk, she brought her face close to mine. “I got this.” Winking, she sat back in her chair with a satisfied grin, and I suddenly remembered why I'd never had many girlfriends before.

  Mr. Chase walked in and set his case down on the desk before spinning around to face us. “You guys have no idea what you're in for today,” he said. “Since the start of school almost three weeks ago, we've been doing daily prompts, most having to do with describing things you've done recently.”

  He looked around, his eyes bright under dark brows, to make sure he had our attention.

  “What we've been writing is technically nonfiction, but it's prepared you for the first fiction project. Fiction,” he paused, “is a multi-faceted beast. No two people write it the same, in part because it stems from our experiences, or the people we've met in our lives. Callie.” He looked me in the eye. “If you and Morgan went out for the weekend together and did, saw, felt the exact same things, you would still experience it differently.

  “So, here's what's going to happen. I have one other creative writing class and I've come up with a list, pairing each of you with someone in that class. Tomorrow during the freshman assembly period, you seniors will have study hall. Instead, meet in this room and you will begin to work with your partners.

  “What is this brilliant project, you ask?” He grinned. “We are going to attempt to tame the beast while proving that much of writing is subjective. You and your partner will be tasked with sharing an experience. Do something you wouldn't normally do. Have a little fun. Then you will each write a fictional story about a character who does and experiences what you did. You will name your characters and write in third person. Remember, we are using our experiences to write a fictional story, not a step-by-step account of what occurred.”

  He held up a sheet of paper and smiled at the nervous faces around the room. “Here are the pairings. I'll pass this around and then let you work on today's prompt until the end of class.”

  No one worked as they watched the list wind around the rows of desks. Morgan snatched it from the girl in front of her, her eyes scanning the page.

  “Ew,” she said, looking shocked at the volume of her voice. “Matthew Franklin.” This time, her voice was lowered and directed only at me and her friends that sat around us. They started muttering about how it wasn't fair. The words “creep” and “freak” were used.

  I stayed quiet. I didn't know Matthew well, but I knew his grandfather. Seth Franklin was a regular at the diner and one of the sweetest people I knew. It felt disloyal to him to join in disparaging Matthew. But that didn't stop the words from slipping past my lips. Something inside me just wanted to be a part of this group.

  “I can't believe Mr. Chase would put you with him.” My gut clenched at my own words.

  Morgan's friends nodded toward me in approval and the clenching eased, replaced by the tingling of acceptance.

  “At least he put you with a friend.” Morgan handed the list to me.

  “Who?” I ran down the names, finding mine in the middle of the page. Sliding my finger over to the name opposite of mine, I froze.

  Jamie Daniels.

  “I would kill to partner with Jamie,” Hannah, Morgan's friend, singsonged.

  I couldn't think of anything else the rest of class, knowing Jamie would be more pissed about this pairing than me. I considered what I'd
said to him and again failed to see how I'd screwed up so bad. I basically told him he had it good and was always trying to mess up his perfect life. That was true, wasn't it?

  Jay's voice popped into my head. There was a family secret. One that could explain everything. Did I have a right to know it? I knew the answer to that was a resounding no, but Jay would tell me, anyway. I just had to wait two more days to see him.

  The bell rang, and I hadn't written a single word of the in-class work. Closing the notebook on my blank page, I shoved it into my backpack and followed Morgan out the door.

  9

  Callie

  “I think there's enough salt in that shaker, Cal.” Colby snatched the salt out of my hand.

  Glancing down, I realized I'd overfilled the small glass container and the extra salt was spread across the counter.

  “Shit,” I muttered, cupping my hand at the edge and pushing the excess salt into it.

  “You cool, sis?”

  “Fine.”

  Colby shrugged and walked off to take a nearby table's order. He had a game the next night so their coach had given them tonight off. Meaning he was working.

  Kat was back in the kitchen, trying to push through a major kitchen backup. It was busy, which was odd for a Thursday, especially since the snow birds weren't due back for another couple months. Summer and fall were pretty lean for us. Heck, so was the winter, but a little less so.

  In an ideal world, Aunt Kat wouldn't have to work in the kitchen at all. She'd just be able to manage the place. We didn't live in an ideal world and we couldn't afford more help, so she ended up doing more work than any one person should.

  I wiped down the counter that still had remnants of my salt fiasco and pulled the order pad out of my apron as someone sat down. Surprise kept me from moving forward for a moment as I took in Mr. Chase's appearance. The cardinal rule of being a teenager was we weren't supposed to have to see our teachers outside of school. To us, they didn't have lives outside of that room.

  But here he was, looking good in running shorts and an Under-Armor t-shirt. His hair was ruffled and damp with what I assumed was sweat since his face shone with it as well.

  I forced my feet forward. “Mr. Chase, hi.”

  He looked up from the menu in front of him and his smile widened. “Callie. Do you work here?”

  “Um.” I gestured to my apron. “Yeah. My family owns the place.”

  “Ah, cheers to that. I've been coming here after my runs, but I guess I've missed you until now. I've talked to Kat. Is that your mum?”

  I laughed. “Not unless she had me when she was like twelve. No, my aunt, but I live with her.”

  “Very good,” he said. “Is she… ah… here?”

  “She's in the kitchen.” I waved away his question, leaning on the counter. “Can I ask you something?”

  He nodded. “I think 'shoot' is what you yanks say.”

  “How did you pair us for the fiction project?”

  “You're expecting me to have some master plan, is that it?” He laughed. “I'd like to say it was because I observed your personalities and determined which combinations would make for the best stories. That'd be pretty brilliant. Sad to say, only a few weeks into school, my magical talents still need honed. No, I paired you based on your seating in class. Your partner sits at the same desk, just during a different period.”

  I sighed, relieved there was nothing more than coincidence behind this choice.

  “Is it possible to get a new partner? I'm sure Morgan would switch me.”

  He smiled. “That's not how this works. Use whatever differences caused you to ask for a new partner. Those differences will only enhance your experience together and ultimately lead to a better story. Get through it and then put whatever you were feeling into your writing. That's how this works.”

  “Noah.” Kat walked up beside me. Was that breathlessness I heard in her voice?

  I looked up into her face, noticing the rosy cheeks and shy smile. Shifting my glance to Mr. Chase, I took in his even wider smile and the way he was trying to flatten the hair on top of his head.

  “Oh my God,” I squeaked. They both looked at me oddly and I just walked away, leaving them to whatever that was. I couldn't remember the last time Kat had a date. She was always busy with the diner, the house, and us. Raising two teenagers at twenty-eight wasn't easy. Not for the first time, I thought of everything she'd given up for us.

  If she could give up a career she loved, dating and having a family of her own, and pretty much everything else to take care of her sister's kids and business, then I could get through this project and so much more.

  “Did you know Kat has a date with a teacher tonight?” Colby barged into my room.

  “Mr. Chase, yeah I know.” I continued braiding my hair.

  “She's calling him Noah.” He screwed up his face, and I laughed.

  “That's his name.”

  “No, his name is Mr. Chase.”

  “Do you even have a class with him?”

  “No, but Jamie does, and he says it's the worst because the girls in the class swoon more over the teacher than they do over him.”

  “Sounds like Jamie.” I backed away from the mirror and sat on the edge of the bed to pull my shoes on.

  “What's up with this project you two have to do together?” he asked.

  I looked up. “He told you about that, huh?”

  “Yeah, he's been going on about what a terrible project it is.”

  “It's actually pretty great,” I admitted. “With the exception of the partner thing. Mr. Chase.” Colby scowled at the name. I just laughed, shaking my head and continuing. “Mr. Chase wants us to experience something new. Then we write as if our fictional character did that exact thing.”

  “I'm gonna agree with Jamie on this one.”

  I threw a pillow at him and he ducked, both of us laughing. This felt good. Our relationship used to be like this all the time, light and fun. We were friends, not merely siblings. But, as Mr. Chase said, everyone experiences things in different ways. When Mom died, I hid away, and he moved on.

  “Anyway,” he started. “I'm heading out. Don't be late to school again.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  Freshman assembly had already started by the time I sprinted up the steps and through the large front doors of the building. The halls were busier than normal. Freshmen were in homeroom meetings and each class was doing different things. Seniors were in study hall, meaning some of them roamed the halls, wearing out the limit on bathroom passes.

  I hoofed it toward my locker, throwing my books inside. The slam echoed through the hall, ringing in my ears alongside the rushing blood. I hated being late, yet couldn't seem to help it.

  When I pushed through the classroom door, all eyes fell on me.

  “Glad you could join us,” Mr. Chase said dryly. “Your partner has been graciously waiting for you at the back of the class.”

  Grace was not an attribute I'd ever associate with Jamie, but there he was, looking bored, but remarkably good as he tapped his pencil against the desk.

  “Of course,” he said. “They put me with someone who couldn't be on time to save her life.”

  “Oh, shut it, Daniels,” I snapped. “I'm surprised you even showed today. No flat waves to go surf?”

  It was the wrong thing to say. I saw it in his eyes. Just like mine, his mind went back to that day and the judgments I'd made, however unfairly. For a moment, I wished our memories were shorter than that and we could just focus on what happened afterwards in my room. But then I mentally kicked myself. No, that would be so much worse.

  “Let's just talk about what we're going to do for the project.” I sighed as I sat in the empty seat beside him.

  “We could write about Colby's party tomorrow since we'll both be there.”

  “I don't think that's what Mr. Chase was talking about when he said to do something you've never done before.”

  Before I could come up with a
nother idea, I heard laughing coming from another corner of the room. Turning in my seat, I caught sight of Morgan working with Matthew, but at the same time trying not to look like she was working with him.

  A couple of her friends watched them and laughed nearby. A wave of sympathy swelled up in me as I took in Matthew's pale face and hunched shoulders. He knew they were talking about him. That was plain. His black shirt was rumpled, and he sported a large bruise on the side of his face.

  “I saw it happen,” Jamie whispered, leaning toward me. Suddenly we weren't at odds. Just for a moment, we were on the same side as we watched what was going on.

  “Saw what happen?” I asked.

  “I forgot. You don't have first period. Matthew met the wrong side of Rick Yellen's fist.”

  “The junior, Rick Yellen?”

  “Yeah. The one who looks like he's thirty. Him and his buddies have been messing with Matthew for years.”

  “Along with everyone else.”

  “Pretty much.” Jamie's tone was matter-of-fact rather than sympathetic. There were plenty of kids who were bullied at Gulf City High. I heard about it, but I never saw it, trapped in my own world as I usually was.

  The period ended and Jamie and I were no further along with our project. Morgan looped her arm through mine on the way to Calc.

  “That was awful,” she said.

  “I'll bet.” I hated how my voice sounded, but I hated my words even more.

  10

  Jamie

  Why did I sleep with her?

  I needed to dump her, but this was Amelia, hottest girl in school. I'd be persona non grata so fast in those halls. She was the one person with the power to bring me, Jamie Daniels, down.

  I didn't care about popularity, but I did care if I ever got a date again.

  Not like the one girl I wanted to date would care what Amelia said.

  No. Dammit. I didn't want Callie. She pissed me off. Always had. She hated me. She had Jay.