Lost and Found Page 4

  “So . . . ,” Jay said, “on Monday we start the school year all over again. As twins. ‘Hi, everybody, guess what? We’re the twins, Ray and Jay.’ That’s what you want to do. On Monday, right?”

  Ray didn’t answer immediately, so Jay went on, choosing his words carefully. “Because if it was all up to me? I’d keep going a while with this. Just because it’s so . . . interesting. I mean, it’s fun and everything too. But mostly it’s just so . . . new. Being out there by myself a little. I mean, after high school, if we go to different colleges or something? Then we’ll be on our own, really on our own. But that’s a long time away. And this? This is right now. Like, didn’t you think today was really fun?”

  Ray said, “Of course it was fun. And I liked the whole other thing too, being on my own. But it’s gonna fall apart—it has to. And then, boom, big trouble. Big. Like, really big trouble.”

  “Maybe not so big,” Jay said. “More like medium. Medium trouble. And for something like this? I think that might be worth it.”

  They were still sitting on the floor, back to back, like a pair of bookends.

  “I don’t know,” Ray said. “It’s just so . . . messy. Like, with the assignments and the friends and everything.”

  Jay said, “You mean, like with that girl, right?”

  And Ray could hear the smile in Jay’s voice, so he elbowed his brother in the back.

  “Not just that,” Ray said. “I mean . . . everything. It’s all messy.”

  “How about this,” Jay said. “How about we keep it going for another week, just until next Friday. Then we’ll confess, we’ll say we’re very sorry, we’ll explain whatever we need to, and then we’ll go back to being the twins. But let’s just see what happens, okay? For another week. To next Friday.”

  Ray said, “You’re insane—you know that, right? My twin brother is officially crazy. Scary crazy.”

  A long pause, and Jay said nothing.

  Then Ray started to laugh. “And me? I’m even scarier. Because I know how crazy you are, and I keep going along with you. Which makes me worse, much worse. Meet Ray and Jay, the craziest twins on Earth. And next Friday? That’s when we become the saddest, most punished twins in human history.”

  “Maybe,” Jay said. He stood up, then reached down and pulled Ray to his feet. He kept hold of his brother’s hand, and with a big grin he said, “But I’ll tell you what. This is going to be a great week, a week to remember—maybe the greatest week ever.”

  “And the messiest,” said Ray. “So . . . is there any food left around here, or did you eat it all? Because I need some serious snack action.”

  “There’s a ton of food,” Jay said, “and you’re gonna need it too. For the energy. Because the last time Mom talked to you—I mean, when she talked to me when I was pretending to be you—she said that when I got home from school today, you had to get all the assignments so you could be caught up when you go back to school tomorrow. Because you told her that you were feeling a lot better today. I mean, I told her you were feeling better. So, do you have a lot of homework for tomorrow?”

  “Me?” Ray said. “No, but you’ve got homework. Tons. Because this is the way it has to work, otherwise I’m out: The guy who goes to school does the homework that’s due on the day he goes. And tomorrow is my day off. But I took really good notes today—much better than the ones you took yesterday. That factoring stuff in math? Almost killed me. And you’ve got to do a better job of writing down the assignments. So that I can do a good job on your homework . . . which I will have to turn in when I go to school and pretend to be you. On Monday.”

  Jay said, “Let’s just eat something, okay? We’ll get all the details worked out. ’Cause two heads are better than one, right?”

  As Ray opened the refrigerator, he looked over his shoulder at Jay and said, “I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

  CHAPTER 8

  HOME BOY

  An hour before homeroom on Friday, Ray and Jay got up, showered, got dressed, made their beds, ate breakfast, picked up their lunches, grabbed their book bags, kissed their mom and dad good-bye, and headed off for school.

  Except Ray took a detour.

  Just outside the kitchen door, he ducked below the level of the windows, scooted between the bushes, scurried around the corner, went behind the house, opened the back door to the garage, and slipped inside.

  Before their parents had come home from work on Thursday afternoon, Jay and Ray had spent some time in the garage. It was a one-car garage, and it was almost filled with tall stacks of cardboard boxes that hadn’t been unpacked yet. The brothers had hollowed out a six-foot square of hidden floor space by rearranging the mess and then piling boxes up and around. It was sort of like building an igloo. And inside this cardboard igloo they had put a folding lawn chair, a flashlight, a few comic books, an iPod Ray had loaded with some songs he wanted to learn, and five or six of Jay’s favorite paperbacks.

  So after making his way to the garage Friday morning, Ray got onto his hands and knees, pushed one box aside, stuffed his book bag ahead of him, and wriggled into the hideout. Then he pulled the box back to cover the opening, felt around in the dark until he found the lawn chair, carefully got to his feet, and sat down.

  And then he waited, flashlight off, barely daring to breathe, just listening to the heartbeats pounding away in his chest.

  Ten minutes later, which felt more like ten hours, Ray heard his mom and dad walk outside and pull the kitchen door shut behind them. He heard two car doors open and then slam, heard their old minivan start up and drive away.

  Ray crawled from his hiding place, pushed the box back to cover the opening, and peeked to be sure the coast was clear. Then he opened the side door of the garage, took two quick steps across the narrow breezeway to the kitchen door, opened it with his key, and went inside.

  Soon Ray was sprawled on the living-room couch enjoying a second bowl of cereal. And when he flipped on the TV, he discovered some great old detective movies that were just starting up on a classic film channel—four movies in a row. And fifteen minutes into the first movie, he was sound asleep, slumped sideways on the couch with his head on a pillow, his guitar within easy reach.

  Ray woke up an hour or so later, just as a scar-faced man wearing a wide-brimmed hat began firing a huge machine gun into the side of a speeding car. Ray yawned, stretched, smiled, and closed his eyes again. He thought, Yes indeed, life is sweet. I could get used to this.

  And for the second day in a row, Ray had a feeling he hadn’t known for a long time. He felt like being a twin was wonderful.

  But as he began to doze off, he couldn’t help wondering what was happening at school. Sure, it was nice to kick back at home, but school was definitely where the action was. Definitely.

  CHAPTER 9

  ASSIGNMENTS

  Jay didn’t know what to do. He was sitting in Friday’s first-period math class, and this girl had just smiled his way. It wasn’t Rachel, the girl who had talked about his factoring problem on Wednesday. This was a different girl, even cuter, and she had smiled right at him.

  He wanted to smile back. That’s gotta be Melissa, the girl Ray met yesterday, he thought. So it’s okay if I smile at her, right? But . . . what if that’s not her?

  He gulped, then looked past her and stared at the bulletin board, pretending he hadn’t seen her.

  Jay wished he had paid better attention to everyone’s name when Mrs. Pell was taking attendance. And he wished he had gotten a more detailed description of Melissa from Ray. Because if I smile back, and this is some other cute girl, then that could mess things up for Ray. And if it is Melissa, and I smile at her, and then she comes over and starts talking to me after class, then . . . like, what do I say to her?

  Talking to girls was not Jay’s best skill. When it came to girls, he was a little in awe of his twin brother—not that he would have ever told Ray that. But it was true. Ray always knew just what to say to girls, how to flirt and joke around, how t
o keep a conversation light and funny. And the girls seemed to like that. In Colorado, Ray had even sort of had a girlfriend for the last month of fifth grade.

  Jay was just as interested in girls as Ray was—maybe even more. But Jay liked to admire girls from a comfortable distance. When he got to science class after lunch? Then he’d solve the mystery of Melissa’s identity. And maybe by then he could figure out what he should say to her.

  So for the rest of math class, Jay kept his eyes on his book. And on his worksheet. And on the screen above the overhead projector, where Mrs. Pell was reviewing the order of algebraic operations.

  And actually, Jay really needed to pay careful attention so he’d be able to explain all this stuff to Ray. Because Ray got along with girls a lot better than he got along with math.

  Near the end of the class, when Jay wrote down the math assignment for Monday, on the same page he wrote:

  Tell Ray to check out the girl in math who sits in the second desk from the front in the row next to the windows. To see if she’s Melissa.

  But then he crossed that out, because he thought, That’s stupid—I’ll know if this girl is Melissa the minute I get to science class.

  And instead he wrote:

  Tell Ray that if the girl in math class who sits in the second desk from the front in the third row from the windows isn’t Melissa, he still has to be kind of nice to her if she smiles at him.

  But then Jay crossed all that out too, because he knew Ray would just tease him about this girl, no matter who she was.

  As math class ended, Jay avoided all chance of connecting with the mystery girl by hurrying out of the room and walking to music class with James.

  James seemed to know everyone, and everyone seemed to like him. And being friends with a popular kid like James was something new for Jay.

  As they stood inside the music room doorway, waiting for the bell, James said, “Hey, did you play soccer when you lived in Colorado last year?”

  Jay nodded. “Yeah, I played some soccer.”

  Which was true, especially the part about “some.” Because the only soccer Jay had ever played was during gym classes.

  James said, “’Cause there’s a sixth-grade team here. I mean, it’s more like a club than a team. Sean plays too. And Mr. Parnell, the music teacher? He’s the coach. And he’s good. You’re really quick on your feet, so I bet you’d get a good position, might even play forward. You should come to the first practice.”

  Jay was flattered that James had noticed how fast he was, and even more flattered to be asked to join this team, or club, or whatever it was. A bunch of guys kicking a soccer ball around? Sounded like fun.

  So Jay smiled and nodded and said, “Yeah, I’ll come. That’ll be great.”

  The bell rang, and as they took their seats, Jay opened his assignment notebook and wrote:

  Tell Ray he has to pretend he likes soccer.

  That afternoon, just before sixth period, Jay identified Melissa by standing inside the door of the science room and locating lab table number nine—third one from the windows, second row from the back. And the girl sitting at table nine was a surprise to Jay—actually, a double surprise.

  First, this girl was not the one who had smiled at him at the start of math class. So that was nice to know. And second, he was surprised that this girl wasn’t prettier. From the way Ray had talked, Jay had expected to be blinded and astonished by Melissa’s beauty. And he wasn’t. He thought, She’s sort of cute. I can see that. Definitely.

  But as Jay took his seat at lab table number nine, the girl who turned and gave him a warm smile didn’t seem so special. Not at all.

  Still, Jay smiled back at her because he knew Ray would want him to. And he said, “Hey . . . hi.”

  And Melissa said, “Hi. I really like your shirt.”

  “Oh,” Jay said. “Um . . . thanks. I . . . I like yours, too. Yeah, very nice shirt.” Jay nodded. And even though he knew he’d said enough, he felt like he had to keep talking. “Shirts are great,” he said. “Especially blue ones. Like yours. Because . . . that’s a blue shirt, right?” She nodded, and Jay said, “I thought it was blue . . . yeah. Blue shirts . . . they’re really great. Yeah. Blue.”

  Melissa kept smiling, but her eyes clouded over and her head began to tilt, sort of the way a dog tilts its head at a bug that’s crawling on the floor.

  Jay had seen that tilted-head look before. From other girls he had tried to talk to.

  Before Jay could say anything else about shirts, Mrs. Abbot came to the rescue. “All right, everyone, quiet down now. The worksheets for your first lab are there on your tables. I’ve filled in a lot of the steps for you, because this is mostly a review of the scientific process. The materials you and your partner will need are on the long tables at the back of the room. Partners may talk to each other, but this isn’t a time for socializing. Please begin now, and be sure to save the last five minutes of the period for cleaning up.”

  Papers rustled, chairs slid on the floor, and kids began moving around the room. And despite what Mrs. Abbot had just said, a low buzz of chatter filled the room.

  But Jay was frozen, afraid to move, afraid to say another word to his lab partner.

  Melissa took charge. She said, “Here, take this sheet and go get the things we need, okay?”

  Jay nodded. “Yeah. Good idea.” He scooted his chair back and rushed away to join the crowd of kids headed for the back of the room. And when he returned—and for the next thirty-five minutes—the only thing going on at lab table number nine was science. It was strictly school business.

  When class ended, Jay was amazed by how quickly Melissa gathered up her things and left the room. Without a smile, without a good-bye.

  And in his assignment book he wrote:

  Tell Ray he has to convince Melissa that Jay is not a dork.

  And he thought, Monday’s gonna be a busy day at school. For Ray.

  CHAPTER 10

  FULL-TIME JOB

  “Hey, it’s Friday—first weekend in Ohio! How about we go grab some pizza and a movie at the mall, and maybe get some new gym shoes for you two. How’s that sound?”

  Their parents had just gotten home from work, and it was Jay and Ray’s dad talking, and he was making an offer no sixth-grade guy could refuse. But before either boy answered, they flashed each other a quick look, and silent alarms went off inside their heads. Until this moment, it hadn’t dawned on either of them that not being twins was going to be a round-the-clock job.

  Because if you pretend not to have a twin brother at school, you have to pretend not to have a twin brother everywhere else—especially at the mall on a Friday night. Kids from school could show up anywhere. And so could teachers.

  All this took only half a second, and that glance the brothers exchanged meant, Do we dare?

  Ray made a No way! face at Jay.

  But Jay said, “Sounds great, Dad. Be ready in a minute.”

  Ray followed Jay upstairs to their room, and the second he shut the door he slugged Jay on the arm.

  “Hey!” Jay said. “What’s that for?”

  “For being an idiot, that’s what. The mall could be loaded with kids from school.”

  Jay said, “Relax, okay? I’ve got it all figured out.”

  As Ray watched, Jay opened the bottom drawer of their big dresser and pulled out a red hooded sweatshirt.

  “That’s mine,” Ray said. “Put it back.”

  Jay shook his head.

  “Just watch.”

  He took off the shirt he’d worn to school, pulled on the hoodie, then went to the closet and got a St. Louis Cardinals hat, also Ray’s. He yanked it onto his head almost down to his ears. Then he grabbed Ray’s fake Oakley sunglasses from his side of the dresser, slipped them on, and pulled up the hood of the sweatshirt.

  “See?” Jay said. “We’re gonna let Mom and Dad think that I’m you tonight, and you’re gonna be me. At the mall. And if we see any kids, they’ll just think I’m your frien
d, somebody they don’t know. And with you being Jay, if we just happen to run into Melissa, I won’t have to try to pretend to be you—pretending to be me. I know the Melissa thing is a long shot, but if she’s there tonight, you’re gonna need to make a really good impression.”

  “What’s that mean?” Ray said, his eyes narrowing.

  Jay hadn’t told Ray about his time with Melissa during sixth period. “Well,” he said, “I don’t think the real Jay was as smooth today as the fake Jay would have been. During science.” He hurried to add, “It’s nothing huge or anything, but you should definitely be the next Jay who talks to Melissa. Definitely.”

  Ray stared at his brother. “And you think your little disguise is gonna trick Mom and Dad?”

  Jay said, “I’m betting yes. Here, put on the shirt I wore to school today, and wear my Cubs hat. And if Mom or Dad can tell us apart, then I’ll stay home and eat leftover spaghetti. And work on the social studies report. Except let me do the talking. Deal?”

  Ray rolled his eyes, but he said, “Deal.” And then he changed into Jay’s shirt and pulled on the blue baseball cap.

  When the boys came down the stairs into the living room, Mrs. Grayson took one look at Jay and said, “Sunglasses? There won’t be much sunshine at the mall, Ray.”

  And Jay said, “I just like the way they look, okay?”

  And his mom said, “Suit yourself.”

  Mr. Grayson got up off the couch. “I don’t know about everybody else, but I’m starved. Let’s get going.”

  And the family headed out the kitchen door.