oven. I actually have product in my hair. Who am I?
“Wow. D’Angelo boys are going to work?” June mocks.
I shrug as I stand and face her.
“It’s hard to be around here, and Hayden’s had a harder time than I have. I think he wants something to fill the free time.” June’s eyes soften, but she’s careful not to let them dip into pity. We don’t do that around here.
My dad moved out a month ago. It’s still pretty fresh for all of us. My mom was having an affair with Lucas’s dad, and when it all came out, it basically blew up both of our families.
"Have you guys talked to your dad lately?” June asks. Our pops said we could go to Indianapolis with him if we wanted to, but this is our senior year. We’re primed to win state this basketball season, and we both decided we couldn’t give up on that. Staying here means sticking out the next few months in a house with a parent we pretty much have lost all respect for.
“Our first family therapy session is next week, with both of them. It promises fireworks,” I say. June grimaces in response.
“You sure it’s not weird, me forcing some double-date with you and Luc?” I squint through my question, and a small part of me wants her to let me off the hook. I’ve never been afraid of rejection, but with Abby, I put it at a solid fifty-fifty that she kicks me in the nuts when I ask her out.
“Stop,” June protests, laughing at my nervous behavior. “It’s sweet. And it will make you both more comfortable. Plus, it’s Eight Lanes. Bowling is the easiest first date ever.”
“Says the Eight Lanes employee who bowls a two-hunny,” I say, one brow arched.
June’s laughter ticks up but stops when we’re interrupted by the familiar rumble of Lucas’s truck in the driveway. I start to jump in place because he is supposed to bring Abby to the house with him and suddenly I’m full of enough energy to power a lightning bolt.
“It’s go time,” I say under my breath. June squeezes my arm and offers me a reassuring smile.
Lucas busts through the door first, and I puff out my cheeks to indicate how stressed I am. But something about the look in his eyes freezes me to the floor. My jumping stops, and my heart does too.
“Abort. Mission,” Lucas says, pointing at me then staring intently into his girlfriend’s eyes.
“What the—” My protest is cut short when Abby follows Lucas through the door in a rush, her hand gripped firmly in my brother’s. My eyes see nothing else. I’m blatantly staring at the place where my crush and my twin are fused together.
What the actual fuck?
“I got the job, yo!” my brother says. At least, it sounds like his voice. I couldn’t testify he said the words because I’m not looking at his mouth. I’m looking at the way Abby is holding his elbow with her other hand, bouncing with excitement. That’s two hands she has on him now. Two. Hands.
“Did you hear me, bro? I got the job!”
I shake my head—literally shake my head—and force my gaze to meet Hayden’s. We are nearly physically identical, but our personalities are vastly different. Where I’m loud, he’s quiet. My confidence is offset by his reservation. I believe I can make any girl fall in love with me. And Hayden . . . he’s never had a girlfriend. Ever.
Until—
“You’re looking at the new host at Two-fers,” my brother says, holding up his new work shirt. It’s bright red with two weenies embroidered on the pocket. It’s ridiculous, and my natural instinct is to make fun of it, but I can’t seem to find a single funny thing to say.
“Wow,” I say, over-exaggerating this terribly small word.
“Right?” He pushes at my shoulder, pressing the shirt into me to take. I unfold it and stare at it while I fake laugh. I toss it on the counter and hold my hand up for him to slap, and we grip each other and pull in for a hug. My eyes catch June’s over my brother’s shoulder, and they are full of pity. Motherfucking pity!
“I hope it’s cool that I invited Hayden to come with us?” Abby asks from somewhere behind me. I can’t bear the thought of turning around and looking at her.
“Of course. Yeah, totally,” I croak out. I cough to cover my weak-ass voice.