Double Lies
Chapter One
Time was dwindling down fast, leaving only twelve seconds remaining on the clock. There wasn't a mind on the field thinking of anything but what was happening in this moment. Faith was needed in Carson if he was to score the tying touchdown that would lead us into overtime; faith, which I had. There was noone who believed in my brother moer than me, because it was impossible. Most of the time we saw things different-way different in fact-but football was where we connected. My eyes met his and everything slowed down. Some people say there's such thing as "twin telepathy", which I sometimes believe to be true. The one person who needed to believe in Carson was lacking it; himself.
"Ashlyn," I spoke suddenly, turning to her, "let's give him some faith." She nodded her head excitedl, like she always does before a cheer. Although many cheerleaders aren't the stereotypical kind, she was the on they probably baded it off of. Her bright blonde hair was always perfectly flowing down her face, make-up covering her face like she was a porcelin doll, and she finished it off with that fake perky smile of hers. Generally, cheerleaders can be nice and sometimes unpopular. Tht was definately not the case with her. She walked through the halls like she owned it, strutting her "stuff". One time, she tried to use me to get to my brother. Being head cheerleader doesn't automatically mean you need to date the quarterback. My brother had a different woman in mind, no matter how many times he was rejected. Annabelle was student body president, highest of all classes, and practically the most popular girl in school. I kept telling my brother that she probably wasn't after a guy who just wanted a girl and sex; he never listened to me though.
The crowd was cheering behind us as the football players lined up for their next play. We faced the crowed, presenting one of our cheers we always do. The seniors and some parents would cheer along, making our time more fun. I could hear the play going on behind us and I was confident my brother would be able to do it. The faces of the crowd suddenly turned from excitement to fear, and I spun around fast, the sounds of the whistles going off. Horror ran through my body as I looked atht the sight of Carson on the ground, not able to get up. I started to take a step closer towards the field, but Jessica-one of the cheerleaders-stopped me from doing so. When I looked over at her, she shook her head, trying to tell me that I couldn't go out there. This was my brother and I didn't care about any rules. I waited a second for her to mover her heand, thinking I wasn't going to go out to the field, and then I ran.
"Christan, stop!" I heard her yell behind me, my body moving as fast as it could to where my brother was. No rules mattered in this moment, I just had to make sure Carson was okay. I pray, please don't let him be hurt.
"Ashlyn," I spoke suddenly, turning to her, "let's give him some faith." She nodded her head excitedl, like she always does before a cheer. Although many cheerleaders aren't the stereotypical kind, she was the on they probably baded it off of. Her bright blonde hair was always perfectly flowing down her face, make-up covering her face like she was a porcelin doll, and she finished it off with that fake perky smile of hers. Generally, cheerleaders can be nice and sometimes unpopular. Tht was definately not the case with her. She walked through the halls like she owned it, strutting her "stuff". One time, she tried to use me to get to my brother. Being head cheerleader doesn't automatically mean you need to date the quarterback. My brother had a different woman in mind, no matter how many times he was rejected. Annabelle was student body president, highest of all classes, and practically the most popular girl in school. I kept telling my brother that she probably wasn't after a guy who just wanted a girl and sex; he never listened to me though.
The crowd was cheering behind us as the football players lined up for their next play. We faced the crowed, presenting one of our cheers we always do. The seniors and some parents would cheer along, making our time more fun. I could hear the play going on behind us and I was confident my brother would be able to do it. The faces of the crowd suddenly turned from excitement to fear, and I spun around fast, the sounds of the whistles going off. Horror ran through my body as I looked atht the sight of Carson on the ground, not able to get up. I started to take a step closer towards the field, but Jessica-one of the cheerleaders-stopped me from doing so. When I looked over at her, she shook her head, trying to tell me that I couldn't go out there. This was my brother and I didn't care about any rules. I waited a second for her to mover her heand, thinking I wasn't going to go out to the field, and then I ran.
"Christan, stop!" I heard her yell behind me, my body moving as fast as it could to where my brother was. No rules mattered in this moment, I just had to make sure Carson was okay. I pray, please don't let him be hurt.
Chapter Two
You know how in certain moments in life, time seems to slow down? This moment was one of those. It seemed like it took minutes to run the 30 feet to Carson, yet it only actually took 30 seconds. My heart rate hadn't slowed down since the instant I saw Carson. I knelt down next to him where the coach and medics were. "Carson, are you okay?" I asked him, worry in my voice.
"My-my foot," Carson stammered, "I can't feel it, I can't feel my foot." I watched the medicas check his foot and ankle, trying to see what could be wrong. Casron winced in pain, just the touch hurting.
"Is it broken?" I asked to the medic checking Carson. The man looked at me in annoyance and the referee came over, grabbing my arm to lead me away.
"Boy, why don't you get back over there with the other littlle girlies and one of those cheers of yours, okay?" I glared at the referee, shaking his grip off my arm.
"Hey, hey," Carson started, "nobody can my brother gay or a girl, besides me. Otherwise, I'll kick their-"
"Bro," I interrupted him with a laugh, "you couldn't harm a rock."
"I could mess someone up real good, especially when I get my hands on that number 20 over there.." I shook my head at him, laughing at how "all talk" his is. "We still have time left on the clock, right?"
"Carson, relax; I don't think finishing the game would be a good idea."
"He's right," the medic said to him, "I think it might be broken."
"Broken?!" he shouted, "no, no, it can't be. Don't joke about something like that. Just, get it wrapped and I'll win this game."
"We need to get you to a hospital tonight so they can take some x-rays. For now you'll be on the bench for the remaining seconds." I knew how much pain my brother was in not only physically, but emotionally also. Football was one of the most important things in his life and not being able to play, that was as bad as a knife in the chest. I helped him stand up and let him lean onto me as I drug him to the bench. He gently took a seat and buried his head into the palm of his hands. Without him, everyone thought this game was over, and he couldn't stand watching them lose. I sat down criss-cross in the grass in front of him, facing towards him instead of the game.
"Carson," I started to speak to him, "there's still the chance that we could-" the siren sounded seconds later, cutting me off mid-sentence.
Over the speaker a voice said, "That's the end of it folks; Timberline Wolves dominate over the Bengals for a win!"
"At least there's two more games until state?" Nothing I said could make Carson feel any better or like it wasn't his fault.
"Shut up, Chris," he mumbled with his face still in his hands, "just don't talk about it."
"I'll take you to the hospital to get it checked. The medics said they think it's broken. Maybe it's just simply sprained and by next week you'll be good."
"Or, we'll go and find out it is broken and I'll be out these last few games." Even thought he didn't sound like he wanted to go, he put his hand on my head and used me to push himself up.
"Ow, thanks," I laughed, standing up to help him once again. After I took him to his car, putting him into the passanger of course, I went to the locker room so I could get his items. Upon entering, I noticed all the guys looked ticked about losing the game. Carson usually left his things in his bag, so once I opened his locker, that's all I had to grab.
"Can't you read the sign," I heard one of the palyers shout, "Boys locker room. That means no girls allowed." Ignoring what he siad and the laughter from other guys, I shut Carson's locker and started to leave.
"Does the little lady need some help carrying the heavy bag?" another mocked in a voice. Before I could reach the door, someone grabbed my arm, forcefully stopping me.
"Where's your big, tough brother, huh? Not her to protect you like he usually does." after the third spoke, I decided it was enough.
"I don't need my brother to protect me from you idiots. Now, let go of my arm."
"What if I don't, are you gonna fight me?"
"I am not some weak child or a little girl. I can take you any day." He laughed a little at me, not believing what I said.
"I'd like to see that happen," being the better person, I ripped my arm away with a glare and walked out of the room. One day; just to have one day where I was treated like my brother instead of his sister would be the best day of my life.
"My-my foot," Carson stammered, "I can't feel it, I can't feel my foot." I watched the medicas check his foot and ankle, trying to see what could be wrong. Casron winced in pain, just the touch hurting.
"Is it broken?" I asked to the medic checking Carson. The man looked at me in annoyance and the referee came over, grabbing my arm to lead me away.
"Boy, why don't you get back over there with the other littlle girlies and one of those cheers of yours, okay?" I glared at the referee, shaking his grip off my arm.
"Hey, hey," Carson started, "nobody can my brother gay or a girl, besides me. Otherwise, I'll kick their-"
"Bro," I interrupted him with a laugh, "you couldn't harm a rock."
"I could mess someone up real good, especially when I get my hands on that number 20 over there.." I shook my head at him, laughing at how "all talk" his is. "We still have time left on the clock, right?"
"Carson, relax; I don't think finishing the game would be a good idea."
"He's right," the medic said to him, "I think it might be broken."
"Broken?!" he shouted, "no, no, it can't be. Don't joke about something like that. Just, get it wrapped and I'll win this game."
"We need to get you to a hospital tonight so they can take some x-rays. For now you'll be on the bench for the remaining seconds." I knew how much pain my brother was in not only physically, but emotionally also. Football was one of the most important things in his life and not being able to play, that was as bad as a knife in the chest. I helped him stand up and let him lean onto me as I drug him to the bench. He gently took a seat and buried his head into the palm of his hands. Without him, everyone thought this game was over, and he couldn't stand watching them lose. I sat down criss-cross in the grass in front of him, facing towards him instead of the game.
"Carson," I started to speak to him, "there's still the chance that we could-" the siren sounded seconds later, cutting me off mid-sentence.
Over the speaker a voice said, "That's the end of it folks; Timberline Wolves dominate over the Bengals for a win!"
"At least there's two more games until state?" Nothing I said could make Carson feel any better or like it wasn't his fault.
"Shut up, Chris," he mumbled with his face still in his hands, "just don't talk about it."
"I'll take you to the hospital to get it checked. The medics said they think it's broken. Maybe it's just simply sprained and by next week you'll be good."
"Or, we'll go and find out it is broken and I'll be out these last few games." Even thought he didn't sound like he wanted to go, he put his hand on my head and used me to push himself up.
"Ow, thanks," I laughed, standing up to help him once again. After I took him to his car, putting him into the passanger of course, I went to the locker room so I could get his items. Upon entering, I noticed all the guys looked ticked about losing the game. Carson usually left his things in his bag, so once I opened his locker, that's all I had to grab.
"Can't you read the sign," I heard one of the palyers shout, "Boys locker room. That means no girls allowed." Ignoring what he siad and the laughter from other guys, I shut Carson's locker and started to leave.
"Does the little lady need some help carrying the heavy bag?" another mocked in a voice. Before I could reach the door, someone grabbed my arm, forcefully stopping me.
"Where's your big, tough brother, huh? Not her to protect you like he usually does." after the third spoke, I decided it was enough.
"I don't need my brother to protect me from you idiots. Now, let go of my arm."
"What if I don't, are you gonna fight me?"
"I am not some weak child or a little girl. I can take you any day." He laughed a little at me, not believing what I said.
"I'd like to see that happen," being the better person, I ripped my arm away with a glare and walked out of the room. One day; just to have one day where I was treated like my brother instead of his sister would be the best day of my life.
Chapter Three
"I'm totally screwed," Carson mumbled to himself in the passanger seat next to me. His gear was thrown in the backseat of my little, blue, compact car. This 2003 honda didn't compare much to my brother's 2006 red, Ford mustang, but his name is Carson afterall, so a nice car like that was expected. Carson was still in his football pants, but had changed into a sweatshirt now. "When we lose state, everyone's going to blame it on me. I'm so frickin' screwed!"
"Carson, calm down. If you guys don't win, it won't be your fault. Stop freaking out." I tried reassuring him none of this was his fault (especially since he didn't tackle himself), but could still feel like he didn't believe me. The drive fromt he football field to the hospital was only a matter of five minutes, and I focused on finding a parking spot.
"What's bothering you?" Carson asked suddenly.
"What do you mean?" I responded back, glancing at him slightly.
"The two of us are twins, Christan. We have, like, the same DNA or something." I rolled my eyes, keeping my mouth shut and not correcting him. "Point is, I know you like I know myself. I feel what you feel, and sometimes I swear we almost actually talk to eachother just by our looks. Tell me what's wrong with you." I ripped the keys from the ignition and removed my seatbelt from accross me.
"There is nothing wrong with me; with you, that's what we're going to find out. His eyes pierced through my skin, causing my arms to gain goosebumps. I looked over at him with a glare as I opened his door for him. "Nothing wrong." He looked away from me with a sigh and I put my hand out to help him. Without looking at me, he grabbed my hand and pushed himself out of the car. Most of his pressure was put on the car as he used it to walk towards the front of it. "Don't be such a child, Carson. You can't try the silent treatment on me, especially since once the car ends you'll need my help."
"I don't need any help. If you have nothing to tell me, then I have nothing wrong. I'll be able to walk normally inside that hospital."
"Fine, I'll tell you about it, okay?" Don't try walking on your foot." He turned to me with a smirk on his face and watied for me to grab around his waist to help him walk.
"That's what I thought you were going to say." I slowly walked along with him, annoyed at his way of getting what he always wants. Carson sat in one of the blue, padded, wood chairs in the waiting room, while I went to the secretary of the E.R. to get paperwork to be filled out. When I retured to where I had placed Carson, I couldn't find him. After I searched around the small waiting room, I discovered him in the kids section, where there was a small television. How he got himself there, I wasn't sure.
"Carson?" I looked at him with a questioning glance, curious as to why he had moved.
"I was bored waiting, and this is my favorite Wizards episode; Alex goes crazy for chocolate."
"Really, Carson?"
"I would love a chocolate Slip n' Slide, wouldn't you? Talk about Heaven on Earth." I sat next to him, plopping down with a sigh. There were a few papers to be filled out, so I gripped the pen tightly and started on what I could do myself. Some of the information on the papers I couldn't provide, so I'd need our parents. "I'll have to call Mom and Dad to come down here."
"No," Carson shouted at me, snatching the phone I'd just taken out of my pocket from my hand. "You cannot let them know about this."
"How do you plan on hiding a possible broken foot from them?" A grin appeared on his face and the turned his attention from me, back to the tv.
"I've got a plan in my head, though it involves secrets, so I don't know if you'll agree with it."
"Carson..." I looked at him with a glare, not liking where it was was going already.
"We're going to switch places with eachother. You'll become Carson, the totally hott quarterback; and I'll be Christan, the totally not cheerleader."
"Wow, thanks," I muttered, not amused by his humor.
"You know I'm just kidding, Bro. I love you like bees love their honey. You're the nerdy hunk of a brother; the sensitive one that girls love to talk with."
"That's because you're the brother who has sex with them and then dumps them, causing them to come crying to me."
"Girls always need a rebound guy, dude."
"Thank you very much, but I'll find my own girl."
"Give it a thought, okay? It'll only be six weeks until my ankle heals. Right now we need a quarterback to lead us to state. The school needs you. I know you can play just as good as me, so tehre will be no worries. Please, Chris."
"Carson, it won't work. How will we explain 'me' having a broken ankle, or foot-whatever."
"We have the weekend to figure out how it'll work. Do you know how much it would mean to me?" The pleading look in his eyes was too much and I caved.
"Fine, I'll do it."
"Carson, calm down. If you guys don't win, it won't be your fault. Stop freaking out." I tried reassuring him none of this was his fault (especially since he didn't tackle himself), but could still feel like he didn't believe me. The drive fromt he football field to the hospital was only a matter of five minutes, and I focused on finding a parking spot.
"What's bothering you?" Carson asked suddenly.
"What do you mean?" I responded back, glancing at him slightly.
"The two of us are twins, Christan. We have, like, the same DNA or something." I rolled my eyes, keeping my mouth shut and not correcting him. "Point is, I know you like I know myself. I feel what you feel, and sometimes I swear we almost actually talk to eachother just by our looks. Tell me what's wrong with you." I ripped the keys from the ignition and removed my seatbelt from accross me.
"There is nothing wrong with me; with you, that's what we're going to find out. His eyes pierced through my skin, causing my arms to gain goosebumps. I looked over at him with a glare as I opened his door for him. "Nothing wrong." He looked away from me with a sigh and I put my hand out to help him. Without looking at me, he grabbed my hand and pushed himself out of the car. Most of his pressure was put on the car as he used it to walk towards the front of it. "Don't be such a child, Carson. You can't try the silent treatment on me, especially since once the car ends you'll need my help."
"I don't need any help. If you have nothing to tell me, then I have nothing wrong. I'll be able to walk normally inside that hospital."
"Fine, I'll tell you about it, okay?" Don't try walking on your foot." He turned to me with a smirk on his face and watied for me to grab around his waist to help him walk.
"That's what I thought you were going to say." I slowly walked along with him, annoyed at his way of getting what he always wants. Carson sat in one of the blue, padded, wood chairs in the waiting room, while I went to the secretary of the E.R. to get paperwork to be filled out. When I retured to where I had placed Carson, I couldn't find him. After I searched around the small waiting room, I discovered him in the kids section, where there was a small television. How he got himself there, I wasn't sure.
"Carson?" I looked at him with a questioning glance, curious as to why he had moved.
"I was bored waiting, and this is my favorite Wizards episode; Alex goes crazy for chocolate."
"Really, Carson?"
"I would love a chocolate Slip n' Slide, wouldn't you? Talk about Heaven on Earth." I sat next to him, plopping down with a sigh. There were a few papers to be filled out, so I gripped the pen tightly and started on what I could do myself. Some of the information on the papers I couldn't provide, so I'd need our parents. "I'll have to call Mom and Dad to come down here."
"No," Carson shouted at me, snatching the phone I'd just taken out of my pocket from my hand. "You cannot let them know about this."
"How do you plan on hiding a possible broken foot from them?" A grin appeared on his face and the turned his attention from me, back to the tv.
"I've got a plan in my head, though it involves secrets, so I don't know if you'll agree with it."
"Carson..." I looked at him with a glare, not liking where it was was going already.
"We're going to switch places with eachother. You'll become Carson, the totally hott quarterback; and I'll be Christan, the totally not cheerleader."
"Wow, thanks," I muttered, not amused by his humor.
"You know I'm just kidding, Bro. I love you like bees love their honey. You're the nerdy hunk of a brother; the sensitive one that girls love to talk with."
"That's because you're the brother who has sex with them and then dumps them, causing them to come crying to me."
"Girls always need a rebound guy, dude."
"Thank you very much, but I'll find my own girl."
"Give it a thought, okay? It'll only be six weeks until my ankle heals. Right now we need a quarterback to lead us to state. The school needs you. I know you can play just as good as me, so tehre will be no worries. Please, Chris."
"Carson, it won't work. How will we explain 'me' having a broken ankle, or foot-whatever."
"We have the weekend to figure out how it'll work. Do you know how much it would mean to me?" The pleading look in his eyes was too much and I caved.
"Fine, I'll do it."
Chapter Four
The hug I received from Carson, due to his excessive excitement, made me feel that being in a hospital was a good thing, because I was being choked to death. "Calm down, dude," I managed to say, though I could hardly breathe.
"I swear," he said, putting extra emphasis on 'swear', "you are the best brother ever."
"Carson, I'm your only brother, which means I'm the best and worst."
"You don't have to be so technical," he muttered to me, annoyed by the fact I always try to correct him at everything.
"How do you plan on making it work? People will ask questions and we can't have different stories, because then people will be suspicious."
"Chris, calm down. I have it figured out. Carson only got his goot sprained during the game, which means, by the next game in two weeks he can play. Chris on the other hand, broke his ankle or whatever and he won't be able to cheer for aproximately two months."
"Then how are we supposed to say I, or Christan, broke his ankle?"
"Simple, we can say-no maybe we could; I have no clue." I rolled my eyes, knowing he would say that.
"What happened to having it figured out?" I questioned him with a slight smirk.
"Wipe that smirk off your face before I do and help me then; brothers work together." Even though Carson may have injured his ankle, he could still use his fist and would if he had to. Threats were oly used when Carson was completely hopeless, so I knew I need to help him.
"We'll find a way to make this plan work, okay? Maybe I hurt it while practicing?"
"No, it's just stupid. Forget about any of it, Chris."
"Hey, I'm doing this for you, got it? I am going to go out on the field for you and win every game until you come back. Nobody can stop Carson Scott." Carson looked at me with a small smile on his face.
"Thanks, Chris," his voice was quiet and soft, "you don't know how happy I am to have a brother like you." I now smiled myself, knowing how wonderful it was to see this side of him.
"I'm not just your brother, Carson, I'm half of you."
"The better half of me," he mumbled under his breath, but I still heard him.
"No, we're equal. Just opposites is all; but still the same. There is no better Scott twin." A voice calling Carson's name caught our attention and it turned out to be a nurse. Carson let out a deep breath before slowly pushing himself up and reaching out for my support as I got up with him. We made our way to the nurse, who took the paperwork from Carson and then led us down the hallway to a room. She left breifly after Carson explained to her what was wrong, returning with a perplexed look.
"Excuse me, boys," the nurse said to us, "but you didn't fill all of the paperwork out." I looked at Carson, not kowing what to say.
"Well, you see," Carson started, trying to find an explanation, "I really don't want my parents knowing. I'm kind of the smart brother of my family and if my parents found out I broke my ankle by trying to do flips on the trampoline, they'd have a fit." My eyebrows furrowed, completely confused as to what he was saying. "My brother, Carson," he pointed back at me, "told me that we could sneak here and they wouldn't know." What was he saying? I thought we were tricking our school, not everyone. The nurse looke back and forth between the two of us, the look on her face from when she walked in still remaining.
"Well, the doctor will be in shortly to evaluate you," she looked at the paperwork in her hand, "Christan." He gave her a smile as she walked out of the room and I turned to Carson, smacking his arm.
"What was that?!" I yelled at him, trying to figure out what he was doing.
"Mom and Dad will never go along with our plan," he explained to me, "so we have to switch now. I took the paperwork and changed names before I gave it to that nurse or secretary lady. Now we have to make it a little more believable, because that nurse did not look convinced. Switch clothes with me."
"What? No." Carson already started taking off his sweatshirt and I know my brother would start stripping me himself if I refused. Slowly, I remvoed my uniform and grabbed Carson's sweatshirt and jeans from his bag, glad he made me bring it in with us. When I looked at Carson, I realized he was having a slight problem gettin his football pants off, since he still had the padding on underneath. Gently, I helped him take both of them off and then put my pants on him, trying to be careful of his ankle. "Happy now?"
"Very. Now, just curious, do you think there would be any way to get some of that wrap stuff from the doctor? We have to fake a sprained ankle for you, remember?"
"I'll take car of that, okay? Let's just worry about you." We stopped talking and sat in silence for a moment until I finally spoke again. "I swear if you get some bright stupid color for your cast, I will personally break the other ankle." Carson laughed and nodded his head in agreement and I started laughing too. Even though we often threatened eachother, we never went through with it. If we tried to beat up the other, neither of us would end up on the winning side, because we'd both get some good bruises from it.
"I swear," he said, putting extra emphasis on 'swear', "you are the best brother ever."
"Carson, I'm your only brother, which means I'm the best and worst."
"You don't have to be so technical," he muttered to me, annoyed by the fact I always try to correct him at everything.
"How do you plan on making it work? People will ask questions and we can't have different stories, because then people will be suspicious."
"Chris, calm down. I have it figured out. Carson only got his goot sprained during the game, which means, by the next game in two weeks he can play. Chris on the other hand, broke his ankle or whatever and he won't be able to cheer for aproximately two months."
"Then how are we supposed to say I, or Christan, broke his ankle?"
"Simple, we can say-no maybe we could; I have no clue." I rolled my eyes, knowing he would say that.
"What happened to having it figured out?" I questioned him with a slight smirk.
"Wipe that smirk off your face before I do and help me then; brothers work together." Even though Carson may have injured his ankle, he could still use his fist and would if he had to. Threats were oly used when Carson was completely hopeless, so I knew I need to help him.
"We'll find a way to make this plan work, okay? Maybe I hurt it while practicing?"
"No, it's just stupid. Forget about any of it, Chris."
"Hey, I'm doing this for you, got it? I am going to go out on the field for you and win every game until you come back. Nobody can stop Carson Scott." Carson looked at me with a small smile on his face.
"Thanks, Chris," his voice was quiet and soft, "you don't know how happy I am to have a brother like you." I now smiled myself, knowing how wonderful it was to see this side of him.
"I'm not just your brother, Carson, I'm half of you."
"The better half of me," he mumbled under his breath, but I still heard him.
"No, we're equal. Just opposites is all; but still the same. There is no better Scott twin." A voice calling Carson's name caught our attention and it turned out to be a nurse. Carson let out a deep breath before slowly pushing himself up and reaching out for my support as I got up with him. We made our way to the nurse, who took the paperwork from Carson and then led us down the hallway to a room. She left breifly after Carson explained to her what was wrong, returning with a perplexed look.
"Excuse me, boys," the nurse said to us, "but you didn't fill all of the paperwork out." I looked at Carson, not kowing what to say.
"Well, you see," Carson started, trying to find an explanation, "I really don't want my parents knowing. I'm kind of the smart brother of my family and if my parents found out I broke my ankle by trying to do flips on the trampoline, they'd have a fit." My eyebrows furrowed, completely confused as to what he was saying. "My brother, Carson," he pointed back at me, "told me that we could sneak here and they wouldn't know." What was he saying? I thought we were tricking our school, not everyone. The nurse looke back and forth between the two of us, the look on her face from when she walked in still remaining.
"Well, the doctor will be in shortly to evaluate you," she looked at the paperwork in her hand, "Christan." He gave her a smile as she walked out of the room and I turned to Carson, smacking his arm.
"What was that?!" I yelled at him, trying to figure out what he was doing.
"Mom and Dad will never go along with our plan," he explained to me, "so we have to switch now. I took the paperwork and changed names before I gave it to that nurse or secretary lady. Now we have to make it a little more believable, because that nurse did not look convinced. Switch clothes with me."
"What? No." Carson already started taking off his sweatshirt and I know my brother would start stripping me himself if I refused. Slowly, I remvoed my uniform and grabbed Carson's sweatshirt and jeans from his bag, glad he made me bring it in with us. When I looked at Carson, I realized he was having a slight problem gettin his football pants off, since he still had the padding on underneath. Gently, I helped him take both of them off and then put my pants on him, trying to be careful of his ankle. "Happy now?"
"Very. Now, just curious, do you think there would be any way to get some of that wrap stuff from the doctor? We have to fake a sprained ankle for you, remember?"
"I'll take car of that, okay? Let's just worry about you." We stopped talking and sat in silence for a moment until I finally spoke again. "I swear if you get some bright stupid color for your cast, I will personally break the other ankle." Carson laughed and nodded his head in agreement and I started laughing too. Even though we often threatened eachother, we never went through with it. If we tried to beat up the other, neither of us would end up on the winning side, because we'd both get some good bruises from it.
Chapter Five
"Christan Micheal Scott!" my mother's voice boomed. Though it was my name being callled, I let out a deep sigh knowing it wasn't me who was about to get the riot act. Carson and I were now sitting in the living room on our worn out tan couch, is left foot covered with a dark blue cast and mine wrapped in elastic ace bandage-though it was completely fine. "First, Carson gets tackled by some teen-aged bigfoot which caused a sprained ankle, but you have to screw around and break your ankle. How stupid can you be to break it from a trampoline? Especially, you out of all people."
Carson sat silently on the couch, knowing what the truth was, when our mother didn't. Even though what he was getting yelled at for didn't happen, we had to pretend to, because in the end it would be worth it for him. "I'm sorry, Mom," Carson finally spoke, his voice low. My mother's light brown hair was pulled up ionto a messy bun, her dark eyes piercing into us as she stood, arms across her chest.
"It's been a long night," I said to my mother, "I think I'm going to head off to bed now, if that's okay with you?" She turned around and started to walk out of the room, but stopped and turned back to us.
"Since it's almost 11 tonight, you'll haev to sleep on the couch until we can figure out how we'll make it work. We can't carry you to your room in the basement, Christan. I'll get you some blankets." With that, she walked away.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Carson?" I questioned him.
"I-" he paused for a second, thinking, "I do. Mom willl get over it within a few days, don't worry about er. Whatever tough times we go through at home will be worth it at school." I stood up, slowly making my way towards the stairs. "Why is Mom freaking out on me so bad anyways? She's never usually like that."
"You're me now, Carson, that's why."
"So, that shouldn't change anything. What are you talking about?"
"It does, though, Carson. Parents always come down harder on the child that's least favorite."
"Chris, Mom and Dad don't-"
"You're the one everyone loves; the athletic they're so proud of. I'm the one who has to try so hard in school just to get an ounce of their attention. I'm sorry if you thought becoming me would be so simple."
"Chris, I'm sure that's not true. They love us both."
"They do, just not eaqually." Not wanting to talk about it anymore, I went downstairs (since my injury was fake and I could convince my parents I was careful) so I could go to bed. Of course Carson never realized it, he was the one getting all of the attention. Now things would be switched and we'd know what it's really like to be each other. Maybe, in the end, this could turn out to be a good thing. Then again, maybe everything will fall apart.
Carson sat silently on the couch, knowing what the truth was, when our mother didn't. Even though what he was getting yelled at for didn't happen, we had to pretend to, because in the end it would be worth it for him. "I'm sorry, Mom," Carson finally spoke, his voice low. My mother's light brown hair was pulled up ionto a messy bun, her dark eyes piercing into us as she stood, arms across her chest.
"It's been a long night," I said to my mother, "I think I'm going to head off to bed now, if that's okay with you?" She turned around and started to walk out of the room, but stopped and turned back to us.
"Since it's almost 11 tonight, you'll haev to sleep on the couch until we can figure out how we'll make it work. We can't carry you to your room in the basement, Christan. I'll get you some blankets." With that, she walked away.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Carson?" I questioned him.
"I-" he paused for a second, thinking, "I do. Mom willl get over it within a few days, don't worry about er. Whatever tough times we go through at home will be worth it at school." I stood up, slowly making my way towards the stairs. "Why is Mom freaking out on me so bad anyways? She's never usually like that."
"You're me now, Carson, that's why."
"So, that shouldn't change anything. What are you talking about?"
"It does, though, Carson. Parents always come down harder on the child that's least favorite."
"Chris, Mom and Dad don't-"
"You're the one everyone loves; the athletic they're so proud of. I'm the one who has to try so hard in school just to get an ounce of their attention. I'm sorry if you thought becoming me would be so simple."
"Chris, I'm sure that's not true. They love us both."
"They do, just not eaqually." Not wanting to talk about it anymore, I went downstairs (since my injury was fake and I could convince my parents I was careful) so I could go to bed. Of course Carson never realized it, he was the one getting all of the attention. Now things would be switched and we'd know what it's really like to be each other. Maybe, in the end, this could turn out to be a good thing. Then again, maybe everything will fall apart.