Double Vision

by Tia Mowry

  “That must be it,” Caitlyn said as we turned the corner past a dusty little diner. “Our new school.”

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious,” I muttered, definitely not in the mood for her chirpy optimism.

  Aura Middle School was at the opposite end of town from the hovel Mom called our house. It was a typical school building: boxy and beige and ugly, with columns out front that looked as if someone had stuck them on as an afterthought and lots of narrow windows that looked like eyes glaring down at us.

  I shifted my leather messenger bag from one shoulder to the other. The bag had been one of my most awesome finds at my favorite vintage shop back in San Antonio—all my friends had loved it. But if I’d known I’d have to start walking to school, I definitely would’ve looked for something lighter.

  “I guess we should go in and find the office,” Caitlyn said. “Mom said they’re expecting us.”

  I nodded, waiting for what came next. What had always come next. Our ritual, we called it. See, whenever we started a new school—and that had happened a lot up until Mom had retired from the army—we would take a moment, just the two of us, and hold hands to remind ourselves that we weren’t alone in this new place. That we always had each other.

  Yeah, I know, pretty lame, right? I’d thought about telling Cait we could skip it this time—we were getting too old for that sappy stuff. But I didn’t have the heart. It meant so much to her.

  My fingers twitched as I took a step toward her, waiting for her to grab my hand. But she wasn’t even looking at me. “So what are we waiting for?” she said. “Let’s go in.”

  I blinked, so surprised she forgot that I almost blurted out something about our little tradition. But I caught myself. Biting my tongue, I followed her as she headed into the school.

  The inside of the building was just as beige and boring as the outside. Well, except for the huge banner hanging over the lobby that read AURA ARMADILLOS in three-foot-high green and gold letters. It featured a giant drawing of a snarling animal with a football tucked under its arm. Beneath the banner, tons of kids were milling around doing their thing. Luckily a big sign on the lobby wall read OFFICE, with an arrow pointing off to the right, which saved us from asking for directions aimlessly, like tourists looking for the Alamo.

  The lady behind the desk had pink hair. Not in a cool punk-rock kind of way, just very . . . pink. It looked like cotton candy that somebody had lacquered into the shape of a pumpkin. Or maybe it was supposed to be a crouching armadillo? Who knew? She barely glanced up from her computer as we told her who we were and where we’d come from. Cait is way better at talking to adults, so I hung back and let her take the lead.

  “Welcome to AMS, hons,” the woman drawled. “Here are your schedules. Let us know if we can help out, mm-kay?”

  “Thanks,” Cait said, even though Pink Lady had already returned her full attention to her screen. Picking up one of the sheets, Cait consulted it carefully. “It says my locker is in East Hall One,” she said. “Where’s yours?”

  I grabbed the other sheet and scanned it as we wandered out of the office. Kids were streaming past us in every direction, some slowing down to give us curious looks. Ignoring them, I focused only on my sister.

  “West Hall Two,” I said. “Not that I have any clue where that is.”

  “Let’s ask somebody,” Cait said. But as she turned around, a guy suddenly called out her name.

  It was weird, considering we didn’t know another soul in Aura. Turning, I saw a skinny redhead coming toward us. He wore weird plaid shorts and a huge, dorky grin. If there was a picture beside the word nerd in the dictionary, this kid would be it.

  He saw me, too, and stopped short. “Whoa,” he exclaimed, looking from me to Cait and back again. “You’re twins!”

  “What gave it away?” I said, rolling my eyes.

  Cait smiled uncertainly. “Hi,” she said. “It’s Liam, right? And, yeah, this is my sister, Cassie.”

  “Nice to meet you, Cassie. Liam O’Day, at your service.” He actually stuck out his hand to shake. Who does that? I stared at his hand until he put it away.

  He shrugged, then turned to Cait. “So, are you guys in sixth grade? What homeroom?”

  Caitlyn checked her sheet again. “Um, it says Ms. Xavier?”

  “Cool! That’s my homeroom, too.” He seemed way too excited about it. “I’ll show you guys how to get there.”

  “Not me,” I said as I glanced at my own sheet again. “I’ve got Mr. Bustamonte.”

  “Can you maybe tell us where our lockers are first?” Cait asked Liam, showing him our sheets. “I want to make sure I can work my combination.”

  “Those lockers are at opposite ends of the school, pretty much,” Liam said. “Which should I show you first?”

  “You don’t need to show me mine,” I said quickly. “Point me in the right direction and I’m good to go.” Being the new kid so often had taught me that first impressions were everything. If the rest of the school saw me walking around with this Liam kid, I was definitely going to be labeled a geek before the first bell.

  Unfortunately, that kind of stuff never seemed to occur to Cait until it was too late. She was already peering down the hallway past the office. “That sign says east,” she said. “Is that where I go?”

  “Uh-huh.” Then Liam waved a skinny, freckled hand toward a stairwell on the opposite side of the lobby. “Your locker is that way. Second floor,” he told me, then turned and led Cait away.

  “Gee, don’t worry about me, sis, I’ll be fine,” I muttered. Whatever. Like I said, I wasn’t interested in joining the Nerd Patrol, even if I wouldn’t be here that long. I was pretty sure I could manage to locate my locker without an escort. But it wouldn’t have hurt Cait to say good-bye.

  As I headed up the stairs, I tried to check out the locals without making it obvious. There seemed to be the usual mix: jocks, hicks, nerds, normal kids. Most of them ignored me aside from a few curious glances. But one kid actually stepped over and blocked my path as I started to pass him on the stairs. The guy really stood out from the rest of the kids in his clunky cowboy boots, messily slicked-back hair, and a leather jacket that looked way too hot for the weather.

  “Hey, you! You new here?” the kid demanded, sounding kind of aggressive.

  I met his gaze evenly, not wanting him to think I was intimidated by the Billy-the-Kid-meets-Grease thing he had going on.

  “Who wants to know?” I demanded in return.

  “Look out, Gabe!” a girl exclaimed, barreling down the steps clutching a cello case. “Coming through!”

  The kid jumped aside, cursing at the girl as her cello almost clocked him. I took the opportunity to keep moving, not looking back. Great. If everyone here was as friendly as Greasy Gabe, I was in for an even more fabulous time at this school than I’d feared.

  As I emerged from the stairwell onto the second floor, I noticed a girl leaning over the water fountain. Wavy brown hair cut into a cute shoulder-length style. Surprisingly stylish clothes for this dusty small town. I even liked her shoes. Okay, this was more like it. Maybe the natives here weren’t totally hopeless after all, because anyone who dressed like that definitely had potential.

  I walked over and cleared my throat. “Hey,” I said. “I’m new here. Can you—”

  She didn’t even let me finish. As soon as she turned and saw me, her hazel eyes widened dramatically.

  “Oh, no way,” she said loudly. “I can’t even believe you’re talking to me. Sorry, I don’t talk to freaks!”

  Spinning on her heel, she took off down the hall. I was too stunned to respond. Why had she called me a freak? For a moment I wasn’t sure whether to yell back at her or burst into tears.

  But no. A few kids were already staring, and I wasn’t about to cry in front of them. Besides, why should I? I’d never even seen that girl before! Where did she get off calling me names?

  I hadn’t been in the best mood to start with, and now I was steaming. It reall
y was going to take all I had to survive this stupid place.

  I spun in the opposite direction, fuming, just as someone stepped toward the water fountain. I crashed into him—hard.

  “Oof!” I blurted out, ready to tell off the person who had gotten in my way.

  But the words died in my throat the minute I got a load of my victim. He was tall and lean and absolutely adorable, with wavy dark hair and a green-and-gold letterman jacket.

  “Sorry,” he said, with a dimply smile that made him look even cuter. “You okay?”

  I guess I looked a little wobbly, because he reached out and touched my arm to steady me. The minute I felt his touch, all the breath in my body whooshed out of me and my vision sort of flickered like a busted laptop screen and for a second I was seeing double. Oh, no. Seriously, please, no! This couldn’t be happening, not right now. . . .

  But it was. I suddenly found myself looking at two versions of Cute Jock’s hand. One of them was fading so far into the background I could hardly see it, and the other was much brighter, freaky-bright—and tightly clutching my own hand, as if he didn’t want to let me go.

  A distant voice floated through my head, though it was hard to hear over the buzzing sound filling my ears. “Are you okay?”

  With great effort I ripped my arm away, and just like that the image of his hand holding mine disappeared. Cute Jock gazed down at me, his face a mixture of confusion and concern.

  “S-sorry, dude,” I managed to say, in something almost resembling a normal voice. “I spaced out there for a sec.”

  “Oh. I haven’t seen you around before. I’m Brayden.”

  I opened my mouth, trying to dredge up my own name. The vision had left my brain a tangled mess. But before I could speak, I heard a shrill voice nearby.

  “Ew, Brayden, stay away from the new girl!”

  It was Wavy-Hair Girl. She was barreling toward me with a pretty blonde hot on her heels.

  “Hi, Lavender,” Brayden said. “So did you already meet, uh . . .” He turned to me. “What was your name again?”

  “Her name is Psycho Freak,” Lavender spat out.

  “What’s your problem?” I demanded. “Do I know you?”

  “Are you serious? I already knew you were a complete weirdo, but—” Lavender began.

  The other girl plucked at her friend’s sleeve. “Come on, Lav,” she interrupted. “We don’t have time for this. I still need to cram for that English test.”

  “English test?” Brayden looked alarmed. “Oh, man, I forgot that was today. I’ve gotta go study—if my grades slip, my folks will be steamed. They might even make me quit the team!”

  “Oh, please.” Lavender rolled her eyes and smiled at him as the three of them walked off together, not sparing a backward glance for me. “You’re, like, the smartest guy on the entire football team. I’m sure your parents will get over it if you get an A minus this time.”

  So Brayden was on the football team—and he was smart, too? Very interesting.

  But no. I wasn’t going to let myself get distracted by a guy, no matter how cute. No matter how much that image of holding hands with him made me shiver. I would need all my energy to survive this stupid town, for however long I was stuck here.

  And while I was at it, maybe I could figure out why my brain had decided to start randomly shorting out lately—and why it seemed to be getting worse. Because I was starting to feel secretly worried that I really was becoming some kind of psycho freak.

  4

  CAITLYN

  “HERE WE ARE,” Liam announced, leading me into the classroom. “Your new homeroom.”

  I smiled at him. “Thanks for showing me the way.”

  “Sure. Want to sit with us? Me and Bianca, I mean. We always sit here in the front.”

  He headed toward a dark-haired girl bent over a book. I followed, feeling almost normal. It was amazing how one friendly face could help change your attitude.

  Especially since Liam hadn’t even mentioned the embarrassing incident the other day. Ever since having that weird vision, I’d been pretty nervous about starting school. Why did something like that have to happen in front of three soon-to-be classmates? It was bad enough it was happening at all.

  I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, trying not to think about it. But it was getting harder and harder each time to blame it on being tired, hungry, or wired from too much sugar.

  The first time it had happened, maybe six months earlier, I’d actually thought it was a dream. I’d had the flu, and awakened from a restless sleep to find my mom pressing her hand against my forehead, checking my fever. The weird buzzing noise had kicked in with a frenzy, and my vision swam. There seemed to be two Moms leaning over me—one of them looked concerned, while the other was smiling. The two versions fought for my attention until she finally left the room and I drifted back to sleep.

  I’d forgotten all about it until it happened a second time—only this time I’d been wide awake. I was at the dentist’s office, and the hygienist had just stuck her hands in my mouth, ready to go to work. All of a sudden two versions of her came into view. One version of the hygienist was fainter as she peered at my teeth and chatted while the other version of her was laughing hysterically. It lasted until she stepped back to let me rinse, and I felt paralyzed, shocked by the whole experience.

  Finally, there was the weirdest one—the thing with Cass. It was a couple of days before Mom told us about the move. Cassie had been studying for the first big social studies test of the year and was kind of freaking out about it—social studies wasn’t her best subject. So I’d given her my notes to help her out, but when her hand brushed against mine, suddenly there were two versions of my twin facing me. One still looked grumpy and worried, and sort of faded into the background, while the other, a much happier Cass, was waving a test paper in front of me with a big, blue A scrawled at the top. That Cass was so bright she didn’t look real.

  I guess Cass noticed I was acting strange, because she abruptly yanked her hand away and told me I was freaking her out, staring like that. So I joked that I was practicing positive thinking, trying to imagine her doing a great job on the test. But you know what? It actually happened. Two days later we got those tests back, and Cass got an A, just like in my vision. Weird coincidence, right?

  And weird enough to make me feel more than a little uneasy. Especially since the vision of Cass had been the brightest and strongest yet.

  As those memories skittered through my mind, we reached Liam’s desk. There weren’t many other students in the room yet, but his friend Bianca looked as if she’d settled in awhile ago. A book was open in front of her, and she was sipping from a water bottle as she read. She was short and slim, with sleek dark hair pulled back from her face and a mishmash of colorful plastic barrettes. Her feet were resting on an instrument case under the desk.

  “Hey, Bianca,” Liam said loudly as he collapsed into his seat. “There’s a new student. Caitlyn Waters, meet Bianca Ramos.”

  Bianca stuck a finger between the pages of her book, clearly marking her place. She studied me, looking me up and down. She didn’t smile, but didn’t frown either.

  “Hi,” she said in a quiet, surprisingly deep voice. “Welcome to Aura. Where’d you come from?”

  “San Antonio,” I replied. “We moved here two days ago.”

  “Here—sit between us so we can both talk to you.” Liam lunged out of his seat, moving over.

  “Thanks.” I sat down in the vacant chair and set my backpack on the desk. More kids were streaming in.

  “San Antonio, huh?” Liam said. “That’s cool. That’s where we’re going for our class trip—you know, the one we were raising money for the other day?”

  My smile wavered slightly. That was his first mention of the Incident. But still, he looked friendly and normal, and not at all judgy. Maybe it hadn’t been as bad as I’d thought. Maybe if Liam had already forgotten about it, those girls would, too. Maybe someday soon we’d all be laughing a
bout it together.

  “Yeah, I remember you guys mentioning the class trip,” I said cautiously. “Um, so those girls you were with—are you guys all pretty good friends?”

  Bianca’s gaze had drifted back to her book, but now she glanced at Liam with interest. “Which girls?” she asked him. “I thought you were working the grocery store with Josh and Goober.”

  “Nuh-uh.” Liam shrugged. “Ms. Xavier said they had enough people, so she asked me to team up with Megan March and Lavender Adams.”

  Bianca let out a snort. “Oh. Poor you.”

  Okay, so they weren’t all friends. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Mom always told us not to judge people by their appearances, but Cassie claimed she could spot a nerd at fifty paces. And as much as I liked him, I had to admit that Liam was, well, not particularly un-nerdy, if you know what I mean. And now that I thought about it, Megan and Lavender hadn’t really seemed like the kind of girls who hung out with people like him.

  I looked up as three boys rushed in, talking and laughing loudly. They were all probably twice Liam’s size, but besides their broad shoulders and long legs, they didn’t look much alike. One boy was super pale, with light-blond hair and blue eyes. The second had olive skin and wavy brown hair, and the third had even darker skin and super-close-buzzed hair.

  They jostled and shoved one another playfully as they made their way to the back of the room. Another boy had stalked in just ahead of them. “Watch it, Jock Breath,” he said with a scowl as the blond kid bumped into him. The kid who’d spoken was short and beefy, with greasy brown hair and jeans tucked into his cowboy boots.

  The jocks ignored him completely, and the kid’s scowl grew even darker. He stomped to a desk near the windows and slammed his books onto it.

  “That’s Gabe,” Bianca said quietly. “He’s got an attitude about the B Boys.” She grimaced. “And everything else, too, pretty much.”