Andy Squared

Seventeen-year-old twins, Andrew and Andrea Morris, have always been close. They share everything—from their friends to a room—and they both enjoy star positions on their high school's soccer teams. All's right with the twins...or is it?

When new student Ryder Coltrane moves from Texas to their small New York town, he spins Andrew's world upside down. All of Andrew's past relationship troubles begin to make sense and his true feelings start to click into place after Ryder comes out to him. His friendship with Ryder turns secretively romantic, but secrets, they soon find out, are hard to keep. Once rumors start to fly, so-called friends turn on them, and the boys' relationship turns into a bomb about to explode. But Andrew never expected it would be his own twin, Andrea, holding a lighter to ignite it.

Andy Squared

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Andy Squared

© 2012 By Jennifer Lavoie. All Rights Reserved.

ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-794-3

This Electronic Book is published by

Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

P.O. Box 249

Valley Falls, New York 12185

First Edition: September 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

Credits

Editors: Lynda Sandoval and Stacia Seaman

Production Design: Stacia Seaman

Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

This book would not be what it is without the help of Mom, Dad, and my sisters, Tiffany and Cassandra. Thank you for dealing with the weird one in the family! My deepest gratitude goes to Dr. Cappella. Without your class and encouragement, this novel might never have seen the light of day. It may have taken years, but I did it! I appreciate my friends and students who read the various drafts and commented kindly but critically. Last, but certainly not least, my wonderful editor, Lynda Sandoval. You rock! I couldn't have asked for a better guide.

For my family and friends who put up with me while I wrote this.

The neon yellow ball rolled to a stop in front of Andrew. He leaned over and placed his hands on his knees, panting.

“Again.”

“Andrea,” he started, pausing to catch his breath. “We're good. We have to get ready for school.” He heard a beep and saw the faint blue glow from her watch.

“We have ten minutes,” Andrea said, and put her hands on her hips. She stood between two orange cones, ready to defend her position. The harsh light from the barn floodlight lit up her face in the early, pre-dawn morning. She squinted against it and pushed a strand of her blond hair off her forehead.

Andrew groaned and straightened up, settling his foot under the ball and flipping it into the air. He juggled it on his knee for a moment before letting it rest back onto the ground. Why had he insisted on an early-morning practice? He hated mornings, and so did his twin, so why had they been out here since shortly after five thirty, running up and down the small field by the old barn, with Andrea pushing him like a drill sergeant? Because he'd missed the easiest goal at the last game. The keeper ran out of his box and left the net wide open, and Andrew missed.
What an idiot.

He scowled at the ball and kicked it forward, dribbling it down the field toward Andrea. She moved her hands from her hips and crouched down, holding them in front of her.

“Focus, Andy,” she yelled. “Don't think about that goal, just do it. It's all over your face. You're gonna freeze up if you keep thinking about it!”

Easier said than done
, he thought, the ball passing back and forth between his feet. He glanced up at the makeshift goal and launched himself forward, sweeping out his left leg and sending the ball flying past Andrea, between the orange cones, and straight through.

“Good,” Andrea said as she retrieved the ball and set it on the ground in front of her. She kicked and sent it flying back to the other half of the field where it hit the side of the barn with a loud
thunk
. “One more time.”

Andrew pushed his bangs off his forehead and wiped the sweat off with his hand. “You should be keeper for the girls' team,” he said, deftly changing the subject, hoping to distract her from the practice and end it early.

“I don't like just standing there. I want to be running, you know that. No glory in standing still.”

“You'd save the game,” he pointed out, ambling back to the barn.

“I want to win the game, not save it. Besides, then we won't be the same position, you know?”

Andrew shrugged and picked up the ball. “It's not like we're on the same team anyway, so what's the difference? You're good at it.”

Andrea flashed him an annoyed glare and picked up the cones. She didn't respond to him as they put the equipment away and shut off the floodlight. The field plunged into darkness and the two carefully made their way back to the house at the base of the hill.

Just as they reached the back door the alarm on Andrea's watch went off. She pressed the button, silencing it, and they crept inside. Upstairs they could hear movement from their parents' bedroom, and the coffeepot started to percolate on the kitchen counter.

Once in their shared room, Andrea nudged the door shut with her foot and flopped down on her bed face-first with a groan. “I'm so tired. I'm never doing that again,” she said. Her voice came out muffled from the thick blankets.

Andrew knelt down and pulled out the bin under his bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved polo. Yet again he bemoaned the fact that the renovations to his room still were not completed.
I really want my space back.
As he stood, the door swung open with too much force and hit the wall.

Their mother stood in the doorway, putting her earrings on, with a smile plastered to her face. “Breakfast will be ready soon. I'm making pancakes this morning.”

Andrea ignored her and pulled the covers over her head while Andrew gathered his clothing. “I get the shower first.”

“Take your time,” Andrea grumbled from beneath the covers.

The bathroom stood just across the hall from the bedroom. Spread across the nearly nonexistent counter space was Andrea's makeup kit, which Andrew pushed aside as he set his things down. He grabbed a towel and got into the shower.

By the time he finished and had gotten dressed, Andrea was just getting up again. He went downstairs to the kitchen and heard the bathroom door slam behind him.

“Morning, Dad,” Andrew said as he sat down in his chair and grabbed some pancakes off the steaming stack.

His father sat across from him, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the morning paper. “Morning,” he said without looking up. “It's getting cold out. We're going to have to start the woodstove soon. Maybe later this week. We need more wood, though.”

“Okay. I don't have practice after school tomorrow.”

“All right. Tomorrow, then. Do you think one of your friends could come and help load up the woodshed?”

“I'll ask,” Andrew said, and sipped his orange juice. He doubted any of them would volunteer, though. No doubt Andrea would find something to do, too.

“Did Andrea get up yet?” His mother stepped into the kitchen holding her purse. She set it down on the counter and lightly swatted her husband on the shoulder. “I told you a thousand times, no reading the paper at the table. You're going to get food all over it and I won't be able to read it later.”

“She's in the shower. She'll be down in a few minutes,” Andrew answered in response to his mother's question, ignoring the light admonition she gave to his father.

“Good. That girl's going to drive me crazy one of these days.”

“Doesn't she already, dear?” His father didn't look up from his paper, but Andrew could see the hint of a grin on his face.

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.”

Andrea came down to the kitchen a few minutes later, just as Andrew finished his breakfast. She poured herself a cup of coffee, which earned a glare from her mother.

“You better hurry and eat or you're going to be late. Coffee is not enough to keep you going until lunch.”

“I'm not going to be late, Mom. Chill,” Andrea said with a flippant wave of her hand. Andrew brought his dishes to the counter and set them there, pouring himself a small cup of coffee.

“Just eat your breakfast.”

The rest of the short meal passed mostly in silence, with Andrew standing at the counter, warming his hands on the cup.

“Oh, Andrew. I need you to give these forms to Mrs. Conway in the office. They're for the school committee. She'll know which one.”

“Okay,” he said, setting the papers to the side.

Andrew grabbed Andrea's last piece of bacon and ran for the stairs before she could stab at him with a fork. He heard her frustrated yell all the way in the bathroom. A short time later he had brushed his teeth, fixed his hair, and was downstairs with his book and soccer bags. Andrea's things were already at the foot of the stairs. As an afterthought, he shoved his mother's papers in his book bag and zipped it shut.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” they both said as they ran for the truck.

“Drive carefully.”

“Remember to hand those forms in for me, Andrew. They're due today.”

It was cool outside, which did not surprise Andrew. He took a deep breath and let it out; he saw his breath in the air and a thin layer of frost covering the windshield of his old, gray pickup.

“Can I drive?” Andrea asked sweetly.

“No,” he replied without hesitation, almost before she was able to finish her sentence.

It was the same routine every morning between the two of them. Andrew wouldn't let his sister drive his truck, and even though she asked every day, she never really pushed. They tossed their bags into the back, climbed into the truck, and slid across the cloth seats. To Andrew's immense relief, the truck turned over and started on the first try.

Cars and trucks only filled half of the student parking lot by the time the twins arrived at school. Andrew parked toward the back where most of the trucks were and they climbed out with their bags. Andrea waved to him and headed inside out of the cold, making a beeline toward a group of her friends. Andrew waved back and went straight to his locker.

After struggling with the combination lock for a few minutes and finally giving the locker a well-placed kick, it popped open and the contents shifted onto the floor.