Chapter 1
"Jordan, breakfast!"
Someone's shouting my name, who is it? Everything's dark...
"Jordan, are you joining the living today?"
Who is that? They sound so familiar...
"Jordan! If you don't come down now, I'll be forced to come up there! Don't make me come up!"
It's a female voice... Could that be the blonde girl from my dream? She was so pretty...
"Okay, that is it young man! You've done nothing but lie around the house all summer. We're going to get you up whether you like it or not."
There's the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Someone's shaking me awake. I open my eyes, hoping to see the sexy blonde from my dream, but all I see is a mop of red hair standing over me. My sister. Yuck.
"Go 'way Jen! I'll tear you limb from limb for waking me up!" I hope I sound convincing, knowing full well I don't.
"Mom's making your favorite. Oatmeal." She smirks. I hate oatmeal.
Suddenly there's a voice from downstairs. "JORDAN! If you don't come down here, you'll be grounded!"
I know that tone. I get up. "Coming Mom!" I shout back at her. Mothers. They don't understand that guys have to get twelve hours of sleep to function properly. "Get out! This is MY room! I need to dress!" I throw on some clothes, and run downstairs before Mom can make good her threat to ground me. But I barely have time to think of how I could get out of it before everyone shouts "Surprise!" I completely forgot. Today's my birthday!
"I hope this means we're not having oatmeal!"
"Nope. We're having green eggs and ham," says my sister. I hate her sarcasm. It sounds like mine.
"Great! My favorite!" It turns out that we're having eggs and ham, just not of the green variety. After breakfast we're going to a picnic. My sister has to go upstairs and put on makeup. Girls. She looks fine without it, but she 'can't risk being seen by someone she knows without it on'. Oh well. Guess I'll never understand girls. Not that I want to. I go up myself and wash my hair in the sink. Might as well look good on my birthday. After all, it's not every day you turn eighteen. In fact, it's only one day. So I'm going to look my best on it. Too bad my wet rag of cornflower blonde never looks remotely clean, even after I've just washed it. Oh well. I stop and think about my hair for a moment. I'm the only one in my family that has blonde hair. My sister insists that she's a strawberry blonde, but her hair's just red. This isn't the only time I've wondered about this. I act differently than them too. Oh, sure, Jen has my sense of humor, but that's just rubbed off over the years. It used to really get to her. The rest of my family is really traditional, but I don't really care for all that stuff. Maybe some stuff, like having a party every year for my birthday, but my mom insisting that we have the same stuff for breakfast every year, and Jen always wearing the same color clothes, I'm not into that stuff. This isn't the only time I've thought about the possibility of being switched at birth. It won't be the last. I hear Mom calling me. Off to the picnic. At least I can count on her potato salad. Like I said, tradition.
"Come on Jordan, we'll be late!" I run to the car, hair still dripping. It'll dry. As I squeeze myself into the backseat, Jen comes running out of the house in her traditional blue. I can't help but think of my dream for a second. The sexy blonde was wearing blue. I like blue. It reminds me of peace, and free things... Whoa. Where did that corny load of bull come from? I'm not a sentimental kind of person. I hope I don't do that again, especially in front of the guys. But I think about the girl again. She had blue eyes too. And a blue glass potato with holes in it and a mouthpiece. Oh well. She was still hot. I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts that I don't notice that we've arrived. I'm still in a daze as we get out of the car. Absently I help set up the picnic blanket. I notice a girl staring at me from across the park. Funny, but she looks almost like the girl from my dream. Same blonde hair, same blue dress. This is starting to freak me out. Better get back to matters at hand, like keeping Jen from eating all of the food. I swear that girl eats more than I do, but somehow she still manages to keep looking like a supermodel. Not that I'd tell her that. I look over at the girl again, but she looks away, embarrassed to be caught staring. Not like she could help it. With my natural good looks no one can resist me.
"Pass the sandwiches," Jen says to me, snapping me back to reality.
"Not until I get mine," I counter. I love making her wait. It's so much fun to have a little sister.
I look over, once again catching the girl staring at me. I try to read her expression before she turns away, but I'm not that good with expressions anyway.
"Pass the potato salad," Jen comments again. She never seems to show emotion. Just one more difference between my family and I.
"Not until I get some. After all, it is my birthday." I've hit a sore spot. She is so jealous about me turning adult and going off to college before her. Not my fault she's younger than me.
As the last of the picnic withers away, I get up and wander. I love the outdoors. There's so much room, not like the cramped city. At least I live in the suburbs. I'm trying to enjoy as much of free life before I head off to dorm rooms and professors. My parents say I've got a rare talent for numbers, but school bores me. So what if I can do math? It's not like it's important or anything. I mean, you don't need to know math to look at the sun, or the trees. You don't need it to fall in love. I mentally slap myself. Again with the sappiness? What's wrong with me today? Pretty soon I'll be quoting Shakespeare. I walk towards the girl. I can't pretend for a second that she's not hot. Maybe I can convince her to go out with me. Hey, we might even be going to the same college! You never know. She turns to look at me and I falter for just a second. Her smile is so pretty. What if she doesn't like me? Or if she's already got a boyfriend? I regain my courage and continue walking toward her, flashing my best smile. No one can resist it.
"Hey. What's your name?" I say. Good way to start a conversation.
"Heather. Why don't you sit down?"
I sit.
"What's your name?" she asks me.
"Jordan. I like your hair." I like your hair? God, what is wrong with me?
She laughs. "Thanks. I get that a lot." Good, I haven't completely embarrassed myself.
"So, what grade are you in?" She hesitates a second, then answers.
"I'm just out of high school. How 'bout you?"
"Same. I'm planning on going to college, but I'm not sure where I want to go yet. Might give it another year." I can feel my cool coming back. This isn't going as badly as I thought it would.
"That's nice. So, what brings you to the park today?"
"Actually, it's my birthday today. It's also a nice day."
"Not a cloud in the sky. Good place for a birthday party."
"I'm over the party thing. I just have a picnic here every year to celebrate."
"Happy birthday, then. What are you doing later? Maybe we could hang out?"
Yes! She's making this way easy. Even with all the other girls, I have a hard time. How was I supposed to invite over this goddess? "You can come over later. Here, hold out your hand." I take out my pen and write my address on her hand. "There. Now you can find me. Now, what brings you to the park today?"
"Nothing really. I just couldn't take one more day of that crowded city. I'm here visiting. I'm used to the countryside. This is so much more crowded." She looks over at me and smiles that smile. If I had my cool, I've lost it now. "The people here are so nice though. I've already met so many people, and they're all so nice." She looks over my shoulder. "Well, I have to go now. I'll come by later though. See you then!"
"Bye! See you later!" I wave, and just happen to see whom she's walking towards. It's this scary-looking woman with gray hair. Not your average no- more-color gray. This lady's hair looks like sheet metal. And she's got a scowl on her face. Hope that's not her mother. I don't think she likes me.
"C'mon Jordan!" My sister's calling me. I wave once more to Heather. I really hope she comes over later.
"Jordan, breakfast!"
Someone's shouting my name, who is it? Everything's dark...
"Jordan, are you joining the living today?"
Who is that? They sound so familiar...
"Jordan! If you don't come down now, I'll be forced to come up there! Don't make me come up!"
It's a female voice... Could that be the blonde girl from my dream? She was so pretty...
"Okay, that is it young man! You've done nothing but lie around the house all summer. We're going to get you up whether you like it or not."
There's the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Someone's shaking me awake. I open my eyes, hoping to see the sexy blonde from my dream, but all I see is a mop of red hair standing over me. My sister. Yuck.
"Go 'way Jen! I'll tear you limb from limb for waking me up!" I hope I sound convincing, knowing full well I don't.
"Mom's making your favorite. Oatmeal." She smirks. I hate oatmeal.
Suddenly there's a voice from downstairs. "JORDAN! If you don't come down here, you'll be grounded!"
I know that tone. I get up. "Coming Mom!" I shout back at her. Mothers. They don't understand that guys have to get twelve hours of sleep to function properly. "Get out! This is MY room! I need to dress!" I throw on some clothes, and run downstairs before Mom can make good her threat to ground me. But I barely have time to think of how I could get out of it before everyone shouts "Surprise!" I completely forgot. Today's my birthday!
"I hope this means we're not having oatmeal!"
"Nope. We're having green eggs and ham," says my sister. I hate her sarcasm. It sounds like mine.
"Great! My favorite!" It turns out that we're having eggs and ham, just not of the green variety. After breakfast we're going to a picnic. My sister has to go upstairs and put on makeup. Girls. She looks fine without it, but she 'can't risk being seen by someone she knows without it on'. Oh well. Guess I'll never understand girls. Not that I want to. I go up myself and wash my hair in the sink. Might as well look good on my birthday. After all, it's not every day you turn eighteen. In fact, it's only one day. So I'm going to look my best on it. Too bad my wet rag of cornflower blonde never looks remotely clean, even after I've just washed it. Oh well. I stop and think about my hair for a moment. I'm the only one in my family that has blonde hair. My sister insists that she's a strawberry blonde, but her hair's just red. This isn't the only time I've wondered about this. I act differently than them too. Oh, sure, Jen has my sense of humor, but that's just rubbed off over the years. It used to really get to her. The rest of my family is really traditional, but I don't really care for all that stuff. Maybe some stuff, like having a party every year for my birthday, but my mom insisting that we have the same stuff for breakfast every year, and Jen always wearing the same color clothes, I'm not into that stuff. This isn't the only time I've thought about the possibility of being switched at birth. It won't be the last. I hear Mom calling me. Off to the picnic. At least I can count on her potato salad. Like I said, tradition.
"Come on Jordan, we'll be late!" I run to the car, hair still dripping. It'll dry. As I squeeze myself into the backseat, Jen comes running out of the house in her traditional blue. I can't help but think of my dream for a second. The sexy blonde was wearing blue. I like blue. It reminds me of peace, and free things... Whoa. Where did that corny load of bull come from? I'm not a sentimental kind of person. I hope I don't do that again, especially in front of the guys. But I think about the girl again. She had blue eyes too. And a blue glass potato with holes in it and a mouthpiece. Oh well. She was still hot. I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts that I don't notice that we've arrived. I'm still in a daze as we get out of the car. Absently I help set up the picnic blanket. I notice a girl staring at me from across the park. Funny, but she looks almost like the girl from my dream. Same blonde hair, same blue dress. This is starting to freak me out. Better get back to matters at hand, like keeping Jen from eating all of the food. I swear that girl eats more than I do, but somehow she still manages to keep looking like a supermodel. Not that I'd tell her that. I look over at the girl again, but she looks away, embarrassed to be caught staring. Not like she could help it. With my natural good looks no one can resist me.
"Pass the sandwiches," Jen says to me, snapping me back to reality.
"Not until I get mine," I counter. I love making her wait. It's so much fun to have a little sister.
I look over, once again catching the girl staring at me. I try to read her expression before she turns away, but I'm not that good with expressions anyway.
"Pass the potato salad," Jen comments again. She never seems to show emotion. Just one more difference between my family and I.
"Not until I get some. After all, it is my birthday." I've hit a sore spot. She is so jealous about me turning adult and going off to college before her. Not my fault she's younger than me.
As the last of the picnic withers away, I get up and wander. I love the outdoors. There's so much room, not like the cramped city. At least I live in the suburbs. I'm trying to enjoy as much of free life before I head off to dorm rooms and professors. My parents say I've got a rare talent for numbers, but school bores me. So what if I can do math? It's not like it's important or anything. I mean, you don't need to know math to look at the sun, or the trees. You don't need it to fall in love. I mentally slap myself. Again with the sappiness? What's wrong with me today? Pretty soon I'll be quoting Shakespeare. I walk towards the girl. I can't pretend for a second that she's not hot. Maybe I can convince her to go out with me. Hey, we might even be going to the same college! You never know. She turns to look at me and I falter for just a second. Her smile is so pretty. What if she doesn't like me? Or if she's already got a boyfriend? I regain my courage and continue walking toward her, flashing my best smile. No one can resist it.
"Hey. What's your name?" I say. Good way to start a conversation.
"Heather. Why don't you sit down?"
I sit.
"What's your name?" she asks me.
"Jordan. I like your hair." I like your hair? God, what is wrong with me?
She laughs. "Thanks. I get that a lot." Good, I haven't completely embarrassed myself.
"So, what grade are you in?" She hesitates a second, then answers.
"I'm just out of high school. How 'bout you?"
"Same. I'm planning on going to college, but I'm not sure where I want to go yet. Might give it another year." I can feel my cool coming back. This isn't going as badly as I thought it would.
"That's nice. So, what brings you to the park today?"
"Actually, it's my birthday today. It's also a nice day."
"Not a cloud in the sky. Good place for a birthday party."
"I'm over the party thing. I just have a picnic here every year to celebrate."
"Happy birthday, then. What are you doing later? Maybe we could hang out?"
Yes! She's making this way easy. Even with all the other girls, I have a hard time. How was I supposed to invite over this goddess? "You can come over later. Here, hold out your hand." I take out my pen and write my address on her hand. "There. Now you can find me. Now, what brings you to the park today?"
"Nothing really. I just couldn't take one more day of that crowded city. I'm here visiting. I'm used to the countryside. This is so much more crowded." She looks over at me and smiles that smile. If I had my cool, I've lost it now. "The people here are so nice though. I've already met so many people, and they're all so nice." She looks over my shoulder. "Well, I have to go now. I'll come by later though. See you then!"
"Bye! See you later!" I wave, and just happen to see whom she's walking towards. It's this scary-looking woman with gray hair. Not your average no- more-color gray. This lady's hair looks like sheet metal. And she's got a scowl on her face. Hope that's not her mother. I don't think she likes me.
"C'mon Jordan!" My sister's calling me. I wave once more to Heather. I really hope she comes over later.
