by Lee Wardlow
My brother took my hand. “Are you going to be mad at me if I don’t talk to you at school?”
I raised my head and looked at Ty. “Why wouldn’t you talk to me at school?” I thought we were making progress. Taking a step forward to become friends again. I think I was mistaken about what Ty was trying to tell me.
“I just want to be Ty and you be Abby,” he explained. “If we keep our distance we won’t be known as the Gardener twins at this school.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You’re an idiot.”
“You weren’t always compared to me,” he argued.
I threw up my hands. “No, I haven’t but I’ve been ignored since the seventh and eight grade boys football team went to State courtesy of Ty Gardener’s records in passing and running for touchdowns. All I’ve heard about for the last three years is did you see how far Ty threw that ball? Did you see how Ty ran past those defenders for the TD? They couldn’t touch him. You were on the nightly news two years straight,” I snapped, “and that was all Dad could talk about and Mom too.”
“I get it. So, we’re at an impasse.”
“I guess we are, but I think you’re a dumbass. Tyson, I want my friend back. I want my brother back.”
He slipped off the bed and headed to the door. “I finally found me, Abs. I don’t want to be Abby’s twin again. I’m sorry.” He dropped his head at the door, but he didn’t look back at me.
Then Tyson left me breaking my heart all over again.
Chapter 4
Mom wouldn’t let me stay home on the second day. She took Tyson and I to school since she didn’t have tennis lessons or a tennis game. She also didn’t have any kind of charity event to attend. It hadn’t taken her long to find a new life in White Oak Creek.
Dad was working late tonight because he had to come to school to get me yesterday. My father was important. He took over as CEO of a manufacturing firm in this small town that made special parts for imaging equipment. My father was smart.
Mom always said I got my intelligence from him but don’t let her fool you. She graduated college with a degree in English and Political Science. If she hadn’t met my dad who had interned at one of the major manufacturers his senior year and was planning on returning after graduation making six digits at twenty-two, she would have gone to law school.
Suddenly, all the reading required for law school wasn’t so appealing to Mom. She played and had fun living with Dad after she graduated from college. Mom is two years younger than my Dad, so she just wanted to have some fun before settling down. Then they got married and traveled for a while. Mom has albums and albums of their trips together that I have looked at wanting something similar myself when I grow up.
At thirty, Dad wanted a baby. He got two. Me and Tyson. Mom got her figure back and still talks about how hard her pregnancy was. She also talks about how hard it was raising us those first few years until we turned about three.
Now, seemed harder to me. Three years ago, was the hardest time of my life. Ty was my best friend. If I had trouble talking to people because of my shyness my brother spoke for me. I’ve gotten better with each year that I’ve gotten older, matured. I’ve had to come out of my shell a lot since Ty turned his back on me.
So, we did what Tyson requested last night we got out of Mom’s car and walked into school like we didn’t know each other. It wasn’t hard. I didn’t walk fast, and Tyson walked as fast as he could to get away from me.
That was fine. He could just leave me. I hobbled with my backpack hanging on my shoulders. Today I wore my hair down hoping it would take the attention away from the white patch on my chin. I had nice thick hair that hung in waves down the middle of my back. So maybe people would notice it and not the chin injury.
“Abby,” I heard my name. Didn’t recognize the voice so I didn’t stop at first. “Abby,” I heard it again and turned and saw Cal jogging to catch up to me.
“Let me take that backpack, beautiful. I’ll carry it to English for you,” he said removing my backpack before I could even protest.
I know my eyes got big in my head. “I can carry it,” I said.
“No need with me around.” He smiled. Deep dimples creased his cheeks. I looked down to avoid him seeing the emotion that I was feeling. “I like your hair down. You should wear it like that all the time.” His compliments embarrassed me.
“Thanks,” I replied.
He opened the door and held it for me. “I guess no gym class for you for a couple of weeks huh?”
“Nope,” I replied feeling relieved about that part of my fall. I hated gym class.
Cal walked down the hall with me jabbering about doing yesterday’s assignment in English class. “I mean who knows who they are at seventeen.” I stopped walking for a moment and stared at Cal. He was a whole year older than me. Cal stopped and looked at me then he explained, “My Mom held me back a year. She thought I was too immature to start kindergarten at five. I’m the baby of the family so I actually think that she just didn’t want to let me go.”
I smiled at Cal. Again, I got a glimpse of the dimples in his cheeks. His warm brown hair was tousled like it was yesterday. I was beginning to think that he rolled out of bed and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Do you own a brush?” I gasped because the words had tumbled out of my mouth without thinking.
He frowned at me like someone had run over his puppy. “I thought girls liked the messy look.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Then Cal laughed at me. “I’m just messing with you. I have five sisters. My skin is thicker than that, Abby. They tease me constantly.”
“I am really sorry,” I repeated.
He put his arm around me. His warm, brown eyes were focused on me. Cal smiled. Those dimples of his made me sigh. He chuckled again. “It’s fine,” he said.
Then he stopped at the door to our English class where he removed his arm and held the door open for me so I could hobble into class.
We took our seats and waited for Miss Hillard to call attention for class to begin.
Call leaned over and whispered, “Going to the game Friday night?” He asked.
“I highly doubt it with this boot on,” I said. I thought I would sit home and read a good book.
“Come on. Go to the game. I’m on varsity even though I’m only a sophomore.”
Tyson had made Varsity too. Mom and Dad would be going to the game. “I’ll think about it,” I promised Cal.
“How about a movie Saturday night,” he suggested.
He was moving so fast my head was spinning. He rested his chin on his palm and stared at me waiting for an answer. “I’ll ask my parents.”
Safe enough response.
“I’m a good driver,” he declared.
I shook my head at Cal. “I have to ask,” I said.
He leaned across the desk. “If they say no can I come over? We’ll do homework together.”
He was persistent.
“Why?”
“I like you,” he declared.
“We’ll see.”
Miss Hillard wrote in bold letters, WAR. “Right a poem, in your journals, please.”
I was intrigued. You could write about actual fighting and death. You could write about the devastation of war. There was so many topics that were floating about in my brain.
In the silence of the night.
I hear them.
The ghosts of the innocent.
The ones who didn’t want this.
Their voices silenced by the ones who gave them no choice.
The streets are dirty with their blood.
The windows broken by their battles.
I hear them.
The ghosts of the innocent.
I chose to write what I thought war would be like after the fact. Usually writers are told to stick with what they know. What did I know about war? I only knew what I saw when Dad was watching the six o’clock news or CNN, which he watched a lot when he was home. I thought
this was pretty good though.
My mind kept wandering. To last night. To Tyson’s feelings on being my twin and wanting his own identity. We had always felt that way, but he was taking it a step further. A step too far.
I wrote in my journal forgetting about the assignment that was supposed to be my focus. Then I heard my name. I glanced around the room. Then at Miss Hillard.
“You are so intense. Why don’t you read your poem to us?”
No. I didn’t want to. I had only written a few lines. The other stuff was just me writing my feelings about Tyson. I tended to do that. Daydream. Get lost in my thoughts. I began to panic. I cleared my throat.
“Can I?” Cal asked rescuing me for which I was grateful.
“Sure,” Miss Hillard replied.
He rose to his feet and read an interesting observation on war and how it affected families. I propped my cheek on my hand and listened to him. I didn’t think he needed a tutor at all. When he was done, Cal sat down.
“That’s very good, Cal. I like your contrast between the father the soldier and the father to his children. The emotion he feels, being torn about his duty to his family and country is excellent without coming out and smacking us in the face with it.”
“Thank you,” Cal replied. I could see that he was uncomfortable. Suddenly his face turned towards mine. His intense gaze wasn’t like usual. He wasn’t being sweet and charming. He was different. He was feeling things that he didn’t really want anyone not even me to see.
Then he looked away and I wondered what he wanted to hide from me.
“Anyone else?” Miss Hillard asked.
Several students got to their feet and read their poetry. Some were good and some were just plain terrible, but Miss Hillard never said a negative word to those who sucked at writing poetry. She smiled and said something positive about each one. Then she offered a suggestion for how to improve the next time.
The bell rang and everyone hurried to the next class. I moved slower because of my boot. Cal waited on me.
Miss Hillard stopped me by her desk. “Cal could I speak to Abby please?”
“Sure, Miss Hillard,” he said leaving me with at the teacher’s desk. I thought I was in trouble.
She leaned against her desk. Her slacks were purple, and her top was multi-colored. She was beautiful with her long, dark hair pulled back from her face. “Could I see your notebook?”
I glanced down at the floor then I handed her the journal that I clutched so tightly in my arms. She glanced through the first few pages then she read my poem. I knew where she was in the book. I didn’t have that many pages to read yet. I knew she could see what I had written about Tyson too. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. I wondered what she would say.
Then Miss Hillard handed me back my notebook. I tucked it in my arms. She smiled at me. “Great start Abby but not complete.”
I nodded.
“You can go to your next class.”
“Thank you,” I said and started to turn away from her. “I had a brother too. Sometimes, it’s fun and sometimes they are a big pain in the…well you know,” she said and gave me a wink.
I glanced over my shoulder at her. “They are, aren’t they?” She nodded as she smiled at me.
Then I walked out into the hall surprised to find Cal waiting on me. We went to History class together, making it just in time before the final bell rang.
**
Lunch was an unusual experience for me. Cal ate with me.
Tonight, after school I was going to sit in the library and wait on Tyson to finish practice. Mom didn’t like to make two trips to school to pick us up. I could work on homework here as easily as I could at home, so I didn’t really care if I had to wait.
As soon as we sat down, other boys began to join us, friends of Cal’s. He introduced me to them. Some were members of the football team and a few were just friends that he had known for a long time. I sat at the table with all boys and felt more awkward than I ever had in my life.
Cal talked with his friends while I ate my lunch. I gathered that two of his friends sitting across from him, both playing football with him and Tyson lived on the same street as Cal. The others had all gone to school together since kindergarten. They were lifelong friends.
“Aren’t you Tyson Gardener’s sister?” The boy at the end asked. He was nice enough. I had learned he played football too. I didn’t know what position. I cared little for the game. Understood less.
I nodded.
“Man, he is good. He replaced him as starting quarterback,” he said pointing to another table where a black, haired guy with scruffy good looks sat with a blonde that was more than beautiful. She was breathtaking.
I stared too long, and her eyes turned towards me. She scowled at me until I looked away. Then Cal caught me staring too. He leaned in and whispered, “She’s the head cheerleader of the varsity squad.”
We were shoulder to shoulder, staring in each other’s eyes. I was holding a pickle like the big dork that I am. Then, Cal broke the spell by biting into my pickle. I frowned at him. He smiled.
“Cal, is your dad going to make it home for one of your games?” The boy across the table asked. The one who lived on the same street as Cal. His name was Aiden, I think. There were ten of them even though I had been told all their names, I thought I would have to hear them a time or two before I was sure of them.
“I don’t know,” he replied. He crossed his arms in front of him and stared at the table. I knew wherever his father was it hurt Cal. “He hopes to make it home before the last game, but you never know.”
I didn’t pry into his business. I wanted to ask questions, but I didn’t. Our arms touched and he looked at me again in an odd sort of way.
Then I saw Tyson walking into the cafeteria surrounded by some kids ignoring me like he promised me he would. I saw that Cal watched too as did the two boys across the table. Tyson walked on by and sat at a couple of tables behind us.
“What’s his deal?” Aiden asked.
I was looking behind me when he asked that question. I didn’t realize at first that he was talking to me. I turned around. “Abby, why doesn’t he talk to you? I mean when you fell yesterday in gym you were a mess and he didn’t even check on you. What’s his deal?”
I glanced to my left at Cal then at Aiden. I shrugged. I couldn’t share with them the emotion and the feelings that Ty had shared with me.
Aiden and Cal’s other close friend, Luke stood. “We’re heading outside for some basketball. Are you coming?” They asked Cal.
He shook his head no and glanced at me. “I’ll catch up with you in next period.”
“You got it,” Luke replied. They left us at the table. Soon the others followed Aiden and Luke.
The day was warm still so most wanted to go outside and catch a few rays. The former quarterback and his blonde beauty were still seated across from us.
“Is he mad at Ty?” I asked.
“He’s not happy but Tyson won the position fair and square. Your brother is a phenomenal quarterback, Abby.”
“Don’t I know it,” I replied.
We were close. I realized that we were sitting so close that when I turned my head, we were only inches from each other. “So beautiful, tell me why Tyson is ignoring you?”
I wasn’t sure I was ready to tell Cal. I glanced over my shoulder. My brother’s back was to me. Cal looked where I was looking then I turned back to Cal.
“He has a hang-up about being my twin,” I said.
I watched his dark eyebrows raise slowly over his brown eyes. “Too much comparison?”
“Something like that,” I agreed.
“You look nothing alike,” Cal replied to me.
I shrugged. “Be more like Abby. Get good grades.”
“See, I knew you were smart,” he teased. His voice was low and soft. So sexy and I liked it.
I rolled my eyes at Cal.
“I love those eyes of yours.” Suddenly he moved his hands
up to my face and removed my glasses. “So much better,” he said.
“Except that now I can’t see.”
Cal smiled. “Can you see me?” He asked.
I chuckled. “I’m not that blind.”
“That’s all you need to see beautiful,” he said.
I went back to eating my lunch unsure of what to say to Cal. He was too charming for me. I didn’t know how to handle him which made me nervous.
Another person stopped by the table and diverted his attention away from me. I was grateful because it gave me a moment of peace to collect myself. To allow the beating of my heart to resume to a more normal range instead of the heady gallop it was now.
Abby Gardener didn’t have boys like Cal paying attention to her. I wasn’t ugly but I hid behind my glasses. I didn’t wear make-up no matter how hard Mom tried to get me to.
Just a little gloss on your lips Abby.
Just a little mascara will make your eyes pop, Abby.
Wear this Abby. It will look so good on your figure, Abby.
Mom was beautiful like the cheerleader across the room. She had been on homecoming court in high school and college. Maybe I should listen to her advice, but it just wasn’t me.
I flipped my hair over my shoulder. I realized that the boy standing by the table was watching me. I slid my glasses onto my face to cover myself. Hiding once again.
“You want to head to class?” Cal asked glancing at me. His next period was two doors down from mine. Apparently, he was walking me to class.
We cleaned up our mess from lunch and carried it to the trash area, putting recyclables in the proper receptacles. Then we headed down the crowded hallways of White Oak Creek High School.
At my door, Cal stopped. “Can I see you after football practice?” He asked.
I was surprised by his request. Intrigued by the interest. Scared to death at the same time. “Why?”
I felt like a dumbass. He frowned at me. Then Cal smiled, that dimple revealing smile. “I like you, Abby. I want to spend more time with you.”
I almost said why again. “I’ll be in the library after school until practice ends. Then Mom is picking us up. She doesn’t want to make two trips,” I explained.
He nodded. “Think she would let me take you for pizza?”