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Authors: Tia Mowry

BOOK: Double Vision
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I had no idea, and it was just one more reminder that life was different now. Whether I liked it or not.

5
CASSIE

BY FRIDAY AFTERNOON I'd figured out where most of my classes were—not much of a challenge since Aura Middle School was tiny compared to our last school. As in seriously tiny. At AMS the entire sixth grade was divided into only two sections—green and gold—with only one homeroom per section. That was it. The sections stayed separate for most of their classes, coming together only for lunch and gym, and mixing it up for electives.

The good news? Lavender wasn't in my section.
The bad news? Her blond friend—who I quickly learned was named Megan March—was, along with a couple of girls who I could only assume were her minions. Their favorite activity, especially during homeroom and study hall, seemed to be whispering to one another while staring at me. Nice, right? It hadn't taken me long to figure out that Lavender's bad attitude had something to do with my sister. I had no idea what Caitlyn had done to get her all worked up—or when, for that matter. But whatever it was, Lavender and Co. were definitely holding it against me.

For one thing, I was pretty sure they were behind the ridiculous rumors flying around school, like the ones where Cait and I were only here in Aura because we got kicked out of our old school for cheating or shoplifting or beating up a teacher. Or the one about how we weren't just regular twins but conjoined twins who'd had surgery to separate us since we'd been born joined at the butt. Pretty juvenile stuff, right? Even so, apart from Cait's nerd troop, the kids at school were giving us a wide berth.

It was more than a little distracting. But at least
I was ahead on most of the class material and caught up quickly on the rest. Even social studies wasn't so bad. I spent half of Friday's class doodling the San Antonio skyline in the margins of my notebook. It turned out pretty well, if I say so myself. I gazed at it, imagining myself back there, having a real life instead of being stuck here in Atrocious Aura.

The bell jolted me out of my fantasies. Everyone immediately started shuffling around, jamming papers and books into their bags, getting ready to bolt.

“All right, people,” the social studies teacher said. Her name was Ms. Xavier, and she was as weird as the rest of the town was boring. Totally wackadoodle, actually, from her long, crazy rat's nest of dark hair to her so-last-season flowy gypsy skirts. Trying to calculate how many fashion faux pas she made per day made it a little easier to stay awake in her class. “Finish the reading this weekend, all right?” she said, winking at us. “But don't worry; you can start it after the game this afternoon. I'll see y'all there, right?”

I winced as the boy behind me whooped directly into my ear. All around the room, people cheered or shouted, “Go, Armadillos!” I'd thought kids at my old school were into football. But here? It was practically a religion. Turning, I saw that Brayden was trading high fives with his friends at the back of the room.

Yeah, he was in my section, too. It had taken me about zero point five seconds to notice that when I'd walked into my first class. Not that it mattered. I wouldn't be here long enough to care.

I stuffed my books into my bag as the other kids rushed for the door. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone coming my way and braced myself.

But it wasn't Megan, or even my teacher. It was Brayden. He bent down with one quick move, surprisingly graceful for such a tall guy, and grabbed something off the floor by my feet.

It was a pen. “Hey,” he said, holding it out. “I think you dropped this.”

“Thanks.” I carefully took the pen, trying not to let my hand touch his. The last thing I needed right
now was for that weirdo double vision thing to happen again. Wednesday's disaster with Brayden was the third or fourth time something crazy like this had happened over the past six months or so, and it was starting to freak me out.

At first I'd thought it was just low blood sugar. It was a Saturday back in the spring, and I'd gone to the mall with a few friends. We'd spent the day on a major shopping spree, and I was shaking with hunger by the time we finally hit the food court.

I'd been standing in line, counting the seconds until I could sink my teeth into my favorite Cajun chicken wrap. But I guess I'd reached for my food a little too eagerly, because I accidentally grabbed the guy's hand behind the counter instead.

And that's when it happened. The moment I touched his hand, my brain sort of shorted out, and my vision went fuzzy. Suddenly his bored expression transformed briefly into a terrified one. I pulled back in shock, but the whole thing only lasted a split second. I'd figured it was just hunger making me hallucinate.

Until it happened again. This time with Mom. I was helping her peel potatoes for dinner. Our kitchen in the old apartment was pretty small, so we were right next to each other. Our shoulders bumped, and suddenly I heard the buzzing sound again. When I glanced over at Mom, there were
two
of her. One version, faded away almost to nothing, looking normal, while the other looked really worried, freaked-out even—which isn't like Mom, who always stays cool as a cucumber even when everything's melting down around her. I hated seeing her like that and shrank back quickly. Once our shoulders parted, the vision was gone. Mom hadn't even noticed anything had happened!

I had to admit, it was getting even harder to ignore that something very weird was going on. Especially since it occurred a couple more times—and each time it lasted a little longer, and the strange vision got a little more vivid.

And now it had happened again, right here in Aura. With Brayden. And that vision of us holding hands. It seemed so real. I mean, I didn't totally hate
the idea of holding hands with Brayden, but still it was eerie. It definitely didn't seem like a random daydream. I mean, sure, Brayden was cute. But I wasn't the type of girl who went around imagining herself holding hands with every cute guy I saw. So what was going on with me? And how could I keep it from happening again?

Even though I tried to avoid it, Brayden's fingers did sort of brush lightly against my hand. I braced myself for the buzzing sound, but luckily nothing strange happened. Except that Brayden kept standing there, sort of rocking back and forth on his heels and smiling down at me. What was that about?

“Well, okay,” he said after a long, awkward moment. “See you in art, I guess.”

“Yeah,” I said.

He started to turn away, then paused. “And listen, you should come to the game today,” he said. “Like Ms. X said, everyone goes. It's pretty fun.” He puffed out his chest. “And we're totally going to crush West River; half their good players graduated last year, and—”

“Yo, Diaz!” one of the other jocks shouted. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” Brayden shot me one last smile, then loped off. “I'm coming.”

I held my breath, watching him go. He really was awfully cute. For a moment I was tempted. What would be the harm in going to the football game? It might even be a fun distraction. A decent way to pass the time until I got myself out of this speed bump of a town.

Then I saw Megan March and one of her minions lurking in the doorway. Were they watching me, or was I paranoid? I caught Megan's eye, and she whipped around, blond hair flying, to whisper something in her friend's ear. The other girl giggled. I was
so
not being paranoid.

Part of me wanted to find a place to hide. But the bigger part, the part that always wanted to be the best, wasn't having any of it. No small-town twit was going to intimidate
me
! I mean, come on!

I grabbed the rest of my stuff and strode toward the door. Megan and Minion were still hanging out
in the doorway. I brushed past them with an icy cool “Excuse me.”

“There's no excuse for you,” the minion piped up.

It was such a lame, elementary-school response that I almost laughed. Almost. Instead I kept on going without a backward glance.

As I rounded the corner, I had to stop short to keep from running right into my twin and her new Super Nerd Squad. She'd been hanging around nonstop with Liam, and I guess he and this Bianca girl were a package deal. I didn't know much about her except that she had a clarinet case permanently glued to one hand and a book affixed to the other. I wasn't a hundred percent sure she could talk, since I hadn't heard a peep out of her yet.

“Cass!” Cait said, actually sounding happy to see me.

I couldn't imagine why. We'd barely spoken all week. Which was a little awkward, given our current sleeping arrangements. She'd actually tried to start some chitchat after lights-out a few times, but I'd fake-snored until she gave it up. I wasn't in the mood
for any late-night sisterly bonding, especially when she was acting too happy about moving to Aura to commiserate with me about how awful it was.

“Funny, I was just thinking about you,” I snapped, glaring at her.

“Really?” She looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

I can really turn on the sarcasm when I want to. And right then I let it flow. “I mean, I was thinking how grateful I am that I have the exact same face as you,” I said. “That way whenever anyone sees me, they think about whatever wackadoodle thing you did the other day. Thanks a lot. Now they're starting to think I'm just as big a weirdo as you.”

“What's she talking about?” Liam asked. “Oh, wait, is this about the—”

Cait shushed him abruptly. She frowned at me, arms akimbo. “And I'm sure none of this has anything to do with your bad attitude about this town.”

What do you know? My sweet sister could pull out the sarcasm, too! If I'd been in a better mood, I might have been impressed. “Whatever,” I
said. “I just wish you—”

Before I could finish, someone came barreling down the hall. Uh-oh—it was Gabe, the greasy-headed cowboy.

“Out of my way, losers,” he snarled, pausing to glare at me and Caitlyn as he shoved past us.

“What's with that guy anyway?” I muttered.

“That's Gabe,” Liam said in his ooh-ooh-I-know-the-answer way.

“Yeah,” Bianca spoke up. “He thinks your mom stole his uncle's job or something.”

“What?” I was so surprised to hear her say anything that it took a second for her words to sink in. I glanced at Cait, who looked uneasy.

“I don't know what that's about either,” she said quickly. “It's probably nothing.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Sunshine,” I said with a snort.

But I didn't really care what Gabe's problem was. I just wanted out. As in out of stupid Aura, Texas. For good.

And the sooner, the better.

6
CAITLYN

“SO ARE YOU guys going to the game this afternoon?” I asked Liam and Bianca as the final bell rang.

Liam wrinkled his nose. “Football? No thanks.”

I shouldn't have been surprised. Liam wasn't shy about sharing his interests in all kinds of things, from science fiction movies to current events, but he hadn't mentioned sports at all. Still, I couldn't help being a little disappointed. What fun was a football game without good friends to share it with?

I turned to Bianca. “What about you? Want to
go with me? It'll be fun, right?”

“I'll be there.” She held up her clarinet case. “I'm in the band. Sorry, but we're not allowed to have anyone sit with us.”

She actually did sound sorry. Bianca didn't have a whole lot to say, since she let Liam do the talking for her most of the time, but I liked her. She was smart, and thoughtful, and maybe a little quirky—my kind of people.

“Bummer,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. “Oh, well, Mom will probably want me to help finish some home improvement projects this afternoon anyway.”

“What about your sister?” Liam said as he gathered up his papers, which looked as if they'd exploded all over his desk. “Can't you go with her?”

“Sure, maybe.” I forced a smile. Cass and I had hardly spoken all week. For some reason she seemed to blame me as much as Mom for this move, probably because I wasn't being all bratty about it like she was. I was sure she thought I was faking it whenever
I acted like this move wasn't the worst thing ever. So what if I was a little, at first? What was so wrong with looking on the bright side?

Still, I was starting to think it was time for me and Cass to kiss and make up. I looked for her outside of school, but there was no sign of her. By the time I got home she was flopped on her bed, flipping through a fashion magazine.

“Hi,” I said, trying to sound upbeat. “So, listen, I was thinking.”

“You probably shouldn't do that.” She turned the page so fast I heard it tear. “Every time I think about my life, I want to cry.”

“Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “About that. We should probably try to make the best of things, you know? For real. And what better way to do that than by going to the football game today? I hear almost everybody in town is going.”

She rolled over and gazed at me. “That just goes to show that there's nothing to do in this stupid
place.”

“Come on, Cass.” I sat down on the edge of my bed. “You like football, remember? We always had a blast at the games.”

“That was before.” She turned away, burying herself in her magazine. “When I liked our school. And actually had friends.”

Her tone was chilly. But I knew my sister, and I was pretty sure she wanted to make up as much as I did.

“Come on, Cass,” I wheedled. “We should at least go check it out. We don't have to stay if it's lame.”

She glanced at me with a little frown. “Sorry. Not in the mood.”

“Don't be like that!” I said as my voice became shrill. “For real, Cass—let's go to the game and try to have fun, okay? What's the worst that could happen?”

Mom stuck her head in the doorway, her face serious. “What are you girls talking about?” she asked in a tone that said she already knew. “Do you need a ride to the football game?”

“No,” Cassie said. “At least I don't. I'm not going.”

“Why not?” Mom stepped into the room. She looked crisp, professional, and a little intimidating in her new police uniform with the shiny gold star on her chest. “I hear the games are the place to be on the weekends around here. It would be good for you girls to go. Help you settle in and feel a part of things.”

“I know,” I said. “I'm trying to talk Cass into it.”

“And she's failing,” Cass said. “I'm not interested. Seriously.”

Mom eyed her. “Well, maybe you should
get
interested,” she said. “Seriously.”

Cassie sat up, looking stubborn. “What are you going to do,
order
me to go to the game, Officer Waters?” she said, her voice dripping with attitude.

Uh-oh. Mom hated when we sassed her like that. I braced myself for yelling, but instead Mom's voice got very quiet—which was even scarier.

“What's in order here, young lady, is a better outlook,” she told Cass. “It would do you good to get out of the house and see more of your new hometown.” She checked her watch. “Get your shoes on, and I'll
drop you both off on my way to work.”

“But—” Cassie began.

Mom raised an eyebrow. “Shoes. Car. Now.”

Ten minutes later Mom was pulling into the high school parking lot. The middle school team practiced on the dusty field right behind the school, but games took place at the high school's stadium a few blocks away. The place was crammed with cars and pickup trucks, all of them decorated with green and gold ribbons or big Armadillo stickers on the windows. People were streaming toward the bleachers, and the crowd was huge. Aura had a pretty serious stadium for such a small town—it was almost as big as the one at our old school, though the bleachers were a little shorter and didn't go all the way around. Still, it was obvious everyone took football seriously.

“Let's go,” I said with a shiver of nerves.

“Whatever.” Cass took her time unhooking her seat belt and hauling herself out of the car. Still, I caught a flicker of interest in her eyes as she glanced toward the bleachers. Maybe she didn't hate being here as much as she was letting on.

Nobody paid us much attention as we headed in. I only recognized a few faces from school. There were lots of adults in the stands, and plenty of high schoolers, too.

The game had already started, though according to the armadillo-shaped scoreboard we'd only missed a few minutes. “Wow, this place is packed,” I said as the crowd let out a cheer for a first down. “I hope we can find seats.”

Cassie looked dubious as she scanned the home-side stands. “I don't know,” she said. “If it's too crowded, we could probably walk back to that fast-food place we passed.”

“No way!” I grabbed her hand, pulling her farther in. “We'll find space.”

It looked like everyone in town was crammed onto the bleachers! The only empty seats were on the opposite side, where the visiting team's fans sat. Not that I was going to sit with our rivals. That definitely
wasn't
the way to fit in.

We wandered back and forth in front of the stands for a moment, hoping someone would take
pity on us and make room. Cassie was actually watching the game, her eyes on the quarterback getting ready to snap the ball. Now, if I could find us somewhere to sit fast, before she lost interest . . .

I paused in front of some slightly older kids who were sort of sprawled across a bench a few rows up.

“Hey, y'all,” I called to them in my friendliest tone. “Got enough space for two more up there?”

A narrow-faced girl with dark hair glanced down at me. “Sorry,” she said. “We're saving for some friends.”

“Oh.” My smile wavered as I wondered whether she was telling the truth. Maybe Cassie's cynicism was rubbing off on me.

“Twins!” a voice rang out. “Waters twins! Over here!”

It was Ms. Xavier. She was about halfway down the bleachers in the front row, standing and waving so hard her bangle bracelets were jingling. She gestured to the bench beside her.

“Look, seats!” I told Cassie brightly. Grabbing her wrist, I dragged her along toward Ms. Xavier.

“Hello, girls,” the teacher said cheerfully, smoothing out her long skirt. “I'm glad you came. I guess nobody told you that the trick to a good spot for these games is to get here early.” She winked and patted the empty bleacher beside her. “But never mind. There's room right here.”

“Thanks, Ms. Xavier,” I said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Cassie muttered, making a point to sit farther away from Ms. X.

Okay, so sitting with a teacher at our first football game wasn't exactly the height of cool. So what?

The play finished with a turnover. One of our players had intercepted a pass and the Armadillos had gained possession of the ball. Everyone around us erupted in cheers and the band blared out a lively fight song. The cheerleaders leaped out onto the sideline and waved their pom-poms. The pounding rhythm of the music filled the stands, and before I knew it, my foot was tapping along with the beat.

Turning, I squinted up toward where the band was sitting a few rows above us. The woodwinds were near the front, and I spotted Bianca right away. She was dressed in a green-and-gold uniform with an armadillo printed on her shirt, tootling away on
her clarinet for all she was worth. When the song ended she lowered her instrument and mopped her brow. I yelled out her name, and she waved back with a smile.

I was still smiling as I turned back to the field, where the cheerleaders were finishing up with a few cartwheels and stuff. Cassie was watching them intently.

“Big surprise,” she said. “Megan March is a cheerleader.”

Megan was right there in the middle of the squad, jumping and yelling. A few of her friends were there, too, though I didn't see Lavender.

“Yeah, makes sense,” I said. “Do you think you'll go out for the squad next year?”

She shot me a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding? As if we'll still be here by then.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She didn't answer, nodding toward the field. “Next play's starting,” she muttered. “We should pay attention.”

I turned back toward the action. The Armadillos
were actually pretty good. I spotted each of the B Boys out there—Biff and Brent were on the offensive line, while Buzz was a halfback. The fourth
B
, Brayden, was the quarterback, and I could tell from the first few plays that he was really good. The cheerleaders freaked out and started jumping around every time Brayden moved a muscle.

The game was getting exciting; we were up by four points and I was actually disappointed when the first half ended. “I wonder what the halftime show will be like,” I said as the cheerleaders jogged out to the field, doing flips and walkovers on the way.

“Oh, the squad does a marvelous job,” Ms. Xavier said. “And our band is one of the best in central Texas.”

The visiting team went first, though they'd only brought half a dozen cheerleaders and a small band that marched around haphazardly, playing their fight song. When the home team squad stepped forward, people screamed and cheered and whistled as the cheerleaders danced to a pop song that morphed into our school song at the end. Ms. Xavier sang
along loudly, a little off-key, and lots of other people joined in, too, clapping their hands and stomping their feet until the bleachers shook.

“Wow,” I whispered to Cassie. “Talk about school spirit!”

“Yeah, I guess.” Cass watched as the cheerleaders began to form a pyramid.

The pyramid had three layers already when Megan March stepped forward, doing a quick backflip before climbing up on the other girls' knees. Seconds later she'd scrambled nimbly to the very top. The stands quieted as she carefully caught her balance before standing upright on the other girls' shoulders.

“Go, Armadillos!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, her face red as she yelled again.

She had to be dizzy standing way up there. Strangely, I felt a little dizzy all of a sudden, too. My head swam as I tried to figure out why the scene in front of me looked so familiar. Megan, red-faced and screaming . . .

I gasped as it hit me. She looked like she had in my vision the other day—
exactly
like it! When I closed my eyes, I could still see her bright-red face, her mouth stretched into an emphatic scream. I'd thought it was a scream of pain or terror, which was why I'd been so freaked-out. Now I realized it wasn't that at all. She was just overcome with school spirit!

Clutching the edge of the bleachers, I tried to tell myself it was a coincidence; it had to be. But here she was, exactly as I'd seen her. I'd predicted this moment, just like I'd seen Cassie getting an A on that social studies test. I couldn't believe it.

“Whoa. What's with you?” Cass said. “You look like you ate a bad burrito or something. If you're going to hurl, do it away from me, okay?”

“I—I—” I stammered. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry.

A whistle blew, startling me out of my stupor. I was surprised to see that the cheerleaders were already back on the sideline and our offensive line was on the field. How long did I zone out for? I fixed my gaze on Brayden as he crouched down on the field, ready for the snap.

My sister was still watching me, looking a little worried. “Are you okay? It's pretty hot out here; maybe you should—”

“It's not the heat,” I blurted out. “Listen, Cass, something kind of weird has been happening to me lately.”

Her gaze drifted back to the field, where the center had snapped the ball to Brayden. Brayden had faked a pass but held on to the ball and was running down the field in our direction, dodging defensive linemen left and right.

“Yeah?” Cass said. “Me, too. I keep having this horrible nightmare that I'm being forced to live in some pathetic little town.”

“No, listen, this is for real.” I hadn't tried to talk to her about my visions before. What was the point? It wasn't as if we confided in each other anymore. We barely even spoke. But I really needed to talk to someone about what had happened, and no matter how much we'd grown apart, I still knew I could trust her more than anyone else in the world. “Something really weird happened the other day,” I told
her. “And now something even stranger might have just happened, and I'm not sure, but I think—”

Brayden was still coming closer. He was running right down the sideline, ball tucked into the crook of his arm, head down. A couple of West River players were behind him and losing ground fast, but another one—a big, beefy linebacker—was barreling toward him from the side.

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