Textrovert

“I’ll take that as a no.”


The phone went both ways. He could have called her. “What class do we have together?”

“Sixth period AP English with Mrs. Miller,” Nicky told her.

Well, that was one class Keeley could look forward to. But first period? Statistics.

On her way to class, Keeley saw a boy trip and fall. His stack of books fell to the ground, making a loud sound. People snickered, but no one stopped to help. To Keeley’s surprise, it was Gavin. Her brother’s freshman buddy.

She picked up a book. AP economics. The same one she had. “Are these Zach’s things?” she asked, handing it to him.

Gavin artfully arranged it on top of the others. “He wants me to store these till after lunch. Thanks for the help.”

“Rough morning?”

He shrugged, refusing to meet her gaze. “It’s okay.”

“It gets better, you know.”

“What does?”

“Getting ordered around by the senior football players. They’re usually toughest at the beginning of the year.” She remembered Zach’s first year. He’d been worried, too, but they got through it together.

“How would you know?” asked Gavin.

“Who do you think helped Zach? One time during finals week, his mentor called in the middle of the night and wanted fast food. We rode our bikes all over town and finally found a twenty-four-hour burrito stand.”

“My cousin told me what to expect when I signed up. I just thought he was exaggerating.”

Keeley knew his misery like it was her own. She leaned in and whispered, “I’ll let you in on a secret. The whole point of this is to force you to bond with your freshman teammates.”

“I can bond without having to carry all of Zach’s books. Your brother is bossy.”

“That’s no secret. He bosses me around even though I’m technically older.” Gavin’s gaze moved to something behind her. It was a poster of their high school’s mascot crushing Crosswell’s mascot. “Ah, the famous rivalry. You know about that, right?”

“I’ve heard it’s intense, especially between the football teams.”

“That’s an understatement.” It’d become worse since Zach joined the team. He seemed to encourage the rivalry.

The warning bell rang.

“Before you go.” She wrote a couple numbers on a blank page in her notebook and tore it out. “My locker and combo. Use it. It’s in the middle of campus. It’ll be easier to store your stuff.”

Gavin looked at her like she’d just given him a million dollars. “I’ll make it up to you somehow. What do you want? Money? Food? My kidneys?”

“I’m good on all three, thanks. See you around.” She texted Zach as soon as Gavin disappeared around a corner.

Go easy on Gavin.





Chill. Today he’s only going to carry my books and get me lunch off campus.





Off campus? Why?





Usually Zach got pizza or burritos from the school cafeteria.

Heard there’s some nasty chicken virus going around. Not taking any chances on the school food.





Keeley burst out laughing. Nicky’s fake flu just went viral.

The day passed in a blur of back-to-school paperwork and what-I-did-last-summer conversations. And in the building fear of what she was going to do when the year was over. By the time she got home, she was in a full-fledged panic. Naturally, that was when Talon called.

She resented the flurry of nerves hiding in her stomach. “What do you want?”

“Keeley.” He sounded slightly off. “Guess what? I’ve been drinking!”

So he drunk-dialed her. He knew she dealt with her brother’s drinking all the time, so he ... What? Thought she’d do the same with him? “Goodbye, Talon.”

“No! Wait!” he cried out. “I wanted to ask something.”

To forgive him, maybe? Not that she was sure she would.

“I need an honest opinion,” he said, voice solemn. There was whispering in the background, and then he asked, “Boxers versus briefs. Which do you like better?”

Disgusted, she hung up. Her cell phone rang again approximately three seconds later and she answered against her better judgment. “What?” she asked. Her tone so frosty her phone could grow icicles.

“I’m sorry! I was just kiddin’! That’s not what I wanted to ask you. Let’s say I was really, really … really drunk and I called you.”

“You mean like right now?”

“Would you pick me up?”

The answer was easy. “No.”

The playfulness in his voice was gone, hostility taking over. “Why not? You pick up your douchebag of a twin all the time.”

“Don’t bring my brother into this.” At least Zach never left her.

“I asked around. Learned all about you. ’Cuz I — Oomph!” There was a loud noise, and then his voice cut off.

“Talon? Talon! Are you okay?”

In the background, Keeley heard a scraping noise and then Talon muttering under his breath. “Stupid chair. Wasn’t there before.”

“Where are you?”

“At a friend’s house. I just walked to the backyard. I need to sit down.” He paused. “What was I saying?”

“How amazing you think I am.”

“You are, you know. Keeley Anne Brewer. Twin of the famous football star Zachary Brewer. Senior at Edgewood. Loves reading. But I don’t get something. It doesn’t make sense. How come no one knows you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your texts.”

She sucked in a breath.

“No one gets it. They think you’re …” He paused. She could hear the harsh sound of his breathing. “Why are you so different on here? Is it me? Are you different with me?”

She’d wrestled with the same question. She knew she’d acted different in the texts. Why did Talon bring out this other side of her? More confident and flirty?

Well, she wasn’t admitting anything to him. Not after the way he’d treated her. “Of course not,” she told him. Then she asked what she’d been dying to know. “Why did you leave me at the Hut the other day? I thought everything was going great.”

“Does it even matter? Not like we’re going to see each other again.”

“We could if we wanted to.”

“We can’t.”

“Then why the hell did you call me?” He was yanking her around and it wasn’t fair.

“I don’t know! I just wanted to — Argh!” he cried out in frustration. There was a loud bang, like something had been kicked over.

“Talon?” The line between them felt fragile. “What did you want —”

“Just forget it.” With that, he hung up.





“All right, pens down, everyone. Pass your papers forward,” Mrs. Miller told them.

Keeley’s was riddled with crossed-out words and arrows, but she felt good about what she wrote. Then she saw Zach’s paper, since he was sitting behind her. It was neat and concise. How’d he do that? They were twins. Weren’t they supposed to be alike? “You’re giving me a complex,” she whispered to him.

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