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Cal had to release me, and I can honestly say that I missed his arm around my shoulders. He held the door open while I walked through then he walked me to Mom’s SUV waiting at the sidewalk.
He opened the back door and laid my backpack on the seat. I could see my mother waiting for an introduction. Inwardly, I was cringing at her eagerness.. This was that awkward moment when I wanted to just close the door and pretend, she and Ty weren’t there. I never knew what Mom would say if I introduced them. I also knew what she would say if I didn’t introduce them. Abby, how rude.
“Mom, this is Cal Cooper,” I finally said.
“Nice to meet you Mrs. Gardener,” he said to her so politely.
“Oh please, call me Kat.” She practically purred at him.
I rolled my eyes behind Cal where she couldn’t see me. He had leaned in to shake Mom’s hand. Then he turned to me and gave me that grin that showed his dimples. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I could only nod. I had no voice. I lost it in his brown eyes and dimples. I slid in the back seat and Cal shut the door for me.
“Such a nice kid,” Mom said.
“Isn’t he?” Tyson smarted off from the front seat then he glanced over his shoulder at me with a glare.
He and Mom talked about the big game Friday night while I stared out the window. I went straight to my room while Tyson stayed in the kitchen with Mom.
I laid my backpack on the bed and changed my clothes. Then I sat in the middle with my writing journal and tried to put myself in Tyson’s shoes. How he had felt all those years walking in my shadow.
I decided to give us different names. Different characteristics other than the female was shy and intelligent while the male was still smart like his sister, but athletics was more important to him.
I stared at my bedroom door. I knew Ty was just as smart as me. Was that the problem, sports was always more important to him? He ate and slept dreaming of football and baseball.
If he didn’t have homework, he was studying plays for football. Always going over them with Dad until he had them memorized. Tyson did enough to just get by when it came to schoolwork. He was happy being a B student, I realized but hated being compared to me a straight A student. That’s where I started. Our differences.
We were twins. As different as two twins could be. We might have occupied the same space for nine months but after that we were unique, and I liked it, but others couldn’t see it that way.
While my sister, Monique was a nerdy girl who liked books and getting A’s. I was a soli
d B student who preferred the sweat and grime of the football field. The intensity of hitting and tackling. The thrill of victory. That got my adrenaline going.
Monique’s academic achievements overshadowed my own. It wasn’t like I was failing. It wasn’t like I turned in mediocre work. I did what I had to do to play sports. Monique did what she had to do to overachieve. Anything below an A gave her hives.
Maybe that wasn’t fair, but I often thought that Tyson saw me that way. The overachiever. The book nerd or just nerd period if he even addressed me at all.
A knock on my door startled me. “Come in,” I called out.
Ty came through my door. He walked to the bed and sat down peeking at the notebook that I had laid between us when I saw it was him. “You have to write what it’s like to walk in your sister’s shadow from my perspective?” He rolled his eyes.
“Do you think I haven’t experienced what you have over the last three years since you went to state and became the hometown hero? Everyone wept at your feet because Dad took that job and we were leaving town.”
Tyson snorted. Again, I rolled my eyes at him.
“Ty, even Mom and Dad have shushed me to pay attention to you. Believe it or not I do understand how you have been feeling about having your own identity,” I said to him.
He blew air through his lips, like he was frustrated. Guess what buddy? I am frustrated too. “I don’t know where to start. You’re the writer I was hoping you could help me.”
I growled at him. “Like you helped me this afternoon? Smirking at me when I missed the ball. Laughing when I couldn’t throw it back to Cal,” I snapped.
“I’m sorry. I did help you with your stance,” he defended himself.
“Thanks for that.” I shook my head at him. “Where’s your notebook?”
“I’ll get it,” he said. “Be right back.”
While he was gone, I contemplated how this would go. Me helping him write a story about a girl who walked in her brother’s shadow. He had to understand how I felt. I had lost him. I missed him. I thought maybe that’s why Miss Hillard had us write this assignment. She wanted us to see each other’s story and possibly mend our relationship.
