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Authors: Tia Mowry

BOOK: Double Vision
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2
CAITLYN

I WASN'T SURE why Cassie was acting so crazy. Then again, maybe I shouldn't have been surprised. Cass and I used to be like two peas in a pod, but lately I just didn't
get
her. I mean, I wasn't thrilled about sharing a room either. But it wasn't the worst thing ever. It might even be fun, as long as she didn't try to alphabetize my shoes or something.

Mom was rubbing her temples the way she did when one of her headaches was coming on. “I swear, that girl . . . ,” she muttered to herself. She caught me
looking and straightened up, shoulders squared, military style. “Follow her, Cait,” she ordered. “I don't want her getting lost and needing to be brought home by one of the other town cops. Talk about embarrassing.”

Going after Cassie was about the last thing I wanted to do. It was hot, I had to pee, and I was totally worn-out from the long car ride. But I wanted to help, for Mom's sake. This move couldn't be easy on her either.

“Sure,” I said, forcing a smile as I headed outside. “We'll be back in a sec.”

When we were little, Cass and I used to play a game where we took turns guessing what the other was thinking. We called it twintuition. Cute, right? But sometimes it really did feel like we could read each other's minds.

Closing my eyes, I tried to guess which way Cassie had gone, but those days of twintuition were long gone. So I picked a direction at random and headed down the sidewalk. It was Monday afternoon, and the neighborhood was deserted. I felt like the only
person in town. The only signs of life were a squirrel dashing across someone's yard and the sound of the cicadas in the trees. I wouldn't have been shocked to see a tumbleweed come rolling down the street.

At the end of the block, I hesitated. If I turned left, I'd be heading back toward the highway. Cassie was upset, but I seriously doubted she would try to walk all the way back to San Antonio. Hitchhike? Also doubtful. Cass liked to act tough, but I knew better.

Glancing in the other direction, I caught a glimpse of store signs in the distance. Jackpot! Cass loved shopping more than life itself.

A few blocks later I reached what had to be the town's main shopping district. Both sides of the street were lined with tall, narrow, old-timey buildings made of brick or stucco and painted in all kinds of fun colors: cream, red, mustard yellow, bright blue. Cute coordinating awnings shaded the glass doors and big picture windows. I spotted a hardware store, a pharmacy, and even a barbershop with an actual striped pole out front. Adorable! There
was still no sign of my sister, but I saw several kids around my age hanging out behind a big folding table in front of the Adams General Store.

My heart started beating faster, and for a moment I wanted to turn and run. It was one thing for me to decide that I was going to make the most of this move—that this was a chance for me to reinvent myself, meet new people, have adventures—but it was another thing to
do
it. We'd been in San Antonio for a long time—almost three years. That was almost three years without being the new kids in town, almost three years without having to figure out who was who and what was where and how to make friends fast. I wasn't sure I was ready to start all over again.

Still, I didn't have much choice, right? So I forced myself to smile and walk right up to those kids. I tried to look as friendly as possible.

“Hi there, want to buy some baked goods?” a boy called out. He was skinny, with a big, happy, crooked smile and bright-red hair that looked as if it hadn't seen a comb in a while. “It's for a good cause—we're
raising money for the sixth-grade class trip.”

Sixth grade. So these were some of my new classmates. Cass and I were supposed to start Aura Middle School on Wednesday.

Meanwhile the two girls next to him kept staring at me. “Who are
you
?” one of them demanded. She had wavy brown hair, a round face, and rosy spots on her cheeks, kind of like a cartoon character. If her expression wasn't cool-verging-on-hostile, I would've called her cute. “I've never seen you before.”

“I just moved here.” Everyone always says my smile is my best feature, so I made the most of it now, even though she looked about as welcoming as a hill full of fire ants. “I'm Caitlyn Waters.”

The other girl looked a little friendlier. Or at least not totally
un
friendly. She was very pretty and
very
blond. While the other two kids were wearing Aura Middle School T-shirts, she was dressed in an expensive-looking pink beaded tank and a delicate heart-shaped necklace.

“I'm Megan,” she said. “That's Lavender and
Liam. So you really just moved here?”

“Yeah. We're waiting for the moving van right now, actually.” I pointed to a plate of pastries. “Is that apple strudel? Yum—how much?”

“Two dollars.” Lavender sounded kind of aggressive, like she was expecting me to start haggling.

“I'll take one, please.” I fished some money out of my pocket and handed it to Liam.

“I made these myself,” Megan said as she offered me one of the sticky strudels. “Old family recipe.”

“Cool,” I said. “I love family recipes. My Maw Maw Jean makes the best hush puppies you ever—”

The rest of the comment caught in my throat. Because right then, as Megan handed me the pastry, something weird happened. Her fingers brushed mine, and my vision suddenly went funky. I found myself looking at two shimmery versions of Megan, one layered on top of the other. One version was dimmed away almost to nothing, as if someone had turned the brightness level on a computer screen all the way down.

The top version was much brighter, almost too
intense to be real. And instead of looking calm and normal, this Megan was red-faced and sweaty, her blond hair disheveled. She seemed as if she was screaming, her mouth open so wide it twisted up her whole face, yet I couldn't hear anything except for a loud buzzing filling my ears.

I gasped as I felt Megan yank her hand out of mine, and the buzzing sound disappeared instantly. Now instead of seeing double, I was face-to-face with all three kids. They stared at me, baffled expressions on their faces.

“Are you okay?” the boy, Liam, asked me.

“Whoa. Why'd she grab your hand, Megan?” Lavender asked.

“I don't know.” Megan stepped back, glaring at me with wary blue eyes. “She just went all psycho all of a sudden.”

I staggered back a few steps, too. The strudel was lying on the sidewalk. I'd totally lost my appetite.

“S-sorry, it was, uh, the heat,” I blurted out as I backed away. I'd never been as good at talking my way out of trouble as Cassie was, and right then
my mind went completely blank. “Um, I was, you know . . .”

I mean, what could I say? I had no idea what had happened.

I only knew it wasn't the first time.

“I—I have to go,” I mumbled. I felt my foot slip on the strudel as I spun around, but I caught my balance just in time and took off without a backward glance.

3
CASSIE

WE'D ONLY LIVED in Aura for two full days, but I was already over it. I dragged my feet—as much as I dared in my cute new shoes—as I walked to school with Caitlyn on Wednesday morning. Yes, that's right, I said
walked
. You know all those old people who talk about walking ten miles to school every day, uphill in the snow? Well, switch that to a little over a mile in the soupy, steamy Texas heat. It makes walking feel like swimming in mud. Welcome to my new and not-so-improved life.

“Good thing we won't be here long,” I muttered, trying to psych myself up.

“What?” Cait glanced over at me.

“Nothing.”

She shrugged and kept walking. We hadn't talked much for the past two days. Not since I'd bolted from the house and discovered there was really nowhere to go. I'd wandered around the pathetic collection of outdated buildings that Aura called a downtown until I ran into Cait. Literally. I'd stepped around a corner just in time for her to practically bowl me over.

Naturally, I'd assumed that Mom had ordered her to track me down, and of course my twin had obeyed, like the good little soldier she is.

Weirdly, though, Cait had barely glanced at me. She hadn't even apologized for plowing into me. Instead she'd muttered something under her breath and hightailed it back to the house. Bizarre. But I'd followed her anyway. What else did I have to do? Besides, if we were going to have to share a bedroom, I wanted to get back in there first and claim
the bed by the window.

By the time we'd arrived, the moving van was idling out front and we got busy—sweeping, scrubbing, carrying heavy stuff around, hanging pictures, the works. Mom didn't so much move into a new place as invade it, battering every inch of it into submission. Though actually I didn't mind the work—when I was busy, it was easier to avoid thinking too much about our new life. For now, I tried to focus on the idea that this was temporary. Besides, our new rental needed all the help it could get.

Almost two days later it was time for school. And if my short stint in Aura had convinced me of anything, it was that us living here was
so
not going to work. Mom would have to come to her senses soon and move us back to civilization.

“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 really 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.

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