Author's Note- This story is based after the book series Replica, by Marilyn Kaye. However, there are very much differences. If anyone that chances upon this story that happens to know of the Replica series, perhaps they will even now know something that will be a major factor in this story. I can say now, though, that the ultimate goal of the enemy will not attempted to be achieved in the way as was thought to eventually be accomplished in Replica.

Also, this is a take-off of sorts from a story that I have previously posted two chapters of, Doppelganger, but will differ from that story. This story is not a future that will occur after Doppelganger. Some things mentioned in here will never be true of Doppelganger, or other stories that take may place after it. There will also be some things in this story that will be a spoiler, but other things may be different. At least part of the latter is due simply to the fact that I have not yet finished Doppelganger.

Now, with that being mentioned, for anyone that may be interested, if any, onward to this story.

-A. O. Talmidge

Chapter One

Rob Baker looked around the small study room in his house. His mother had stated earlier that he could find the genealogical charts that he needed for his homework in the closet. He was not so sure, though.

He knew that his mother had recently cleaned out the closet in the study, and sometimes when she did that, including in the many studies the family had had in the various air force bases they had lived in, not everything got put away in the correct places right away. The genealogical records might be in the study, or they might not. He sighed, preparing to look for the closet's messy top shelf again.

Rob suddenly saw a stack of papers on top of the filing cabinet. He quickly went to them, only to be disappointed that the top ones were only some newer bills that had not been filed yet.

Actually, he had never looked in the filing cabinet, mainly since it was always locked. Also, both her and his father had told him it was mainly important tax information. That seemed fairly boring, and Rob had only seen the inside of it once when he had watched his mother put some papers in one of the many tabbed cream folders in the top drawer.

He looked behind the papers and saw an open box. Inside, there was a single, small silver key.

Rob debated about picking up the key. The filing cabinet probably did not have anything necessary for his homework, but it was one place in the study that he had not checked yet. Maybe even there was something that his great-grandfather had sent them, or something he could get a name, birth place and some other such information. Perhaps there would even be death certificates for some people, as creepy as it seemed. Both sets of his grandparents had died before he had been born.

His older brother, Jason, had only seen both of their grandfathers, and that was when he was one year old, so that was of no help, either. Plus, Jason was a student at a deaf school in Washington D.C., anyway.

Rob grabbed the tiny key and inserted it in the top drawer. Maybe he could have tried to open it with small bit of telekinesis that he had gained recently, but he really did not need to, though, since he had the key.

The lock opened and he put the key on top of the papers on the cabinet, then pulled the drawer open. He quickly looked at the tabs on the cream folders, and frowned. Taxes for the year 1972, for 1973, 1974 . . .

What was the purpose of keeping tax stuff from that many years ago, anyway? Who knew. Maybe there was something useful in the folders for his homework, but maybe not. He could at least look at the tabs in the other drawers first.

Rob locked the first drawer again, then unlocked the second one. This one had some bills for hospital things in the front, such as possibly for when Jason had managed to sprain his ankle but good in the Louisiana Air Force Base and had a cast for a whole month.

He then checked the other tabs in drawer. More hospital bills, other bills . . . Adoption documents?

Rob looked at the tab, his curiously a little bit peaked. Maybe his father or mother had been adopted, or one of his grandparents, or someone like that. He knew that he did not have any aunts, uncles, or cousins. Both of his parents were the only child in their families.

Rob pulled the first paper out of the folder. He looked at the paper, and stared in utter surprise.

By the Authorities of the Child Adoption Agency in the State of Texas,
it is now officially declared that
Richie Branson
Formerly in the guardianship of Mr. George Andrew Branson
Is now legally the [there was a checkmark by the word son] of
Mr. Gordon Kent Baker
and
Mrs. Catherine Hillary Baker

The official name for the adopted [there was another checkmark by the word son] is now
Robert David Baker . . .

Rob read the rest of the paper in shock. He wished that there was a mistake, but he checked the dates again. Everything fit.

The day that he had been born; even the state. . . . But what about Jason?

He frantically checked the rest of the papers in the folder, but there was utterly nothing about his older brother, except on a single paper that listed the existing members of the family that the child was being adopted to. So many documents . . .

But only for him.

Somehow, he was adopted.

And neither of his parents had told him.

Some small part of him that was not stunned wondered if maybe that was how he had gotten his telekinesis, since it was actually genetic. The power had seemed to come from the middle of nowhere, starting with windows exploding at school. That was actually among the strongest things that he could do, though. The rest was just lifting up small objects.

Rob wondered if Jason knew about him being adopted. Somehow he doubted that, though. Even if Jason had been told never to tell him, there was utterly no way that his older brother would keep that from him. They were too good of friends for that type of thing.

Rob suddenly remembered about Brandon, a look-a-like that he had encountered several months ago. Back when the police had thought that Rob was the one stealing things from Brooklyn stores, he had been brought into police custody after some fingerprints in a restricted area in a department store had been identified as his. Brandon, the doppelganger, had come and declared Rob's innocence, specifically stating that he was the thief.

The police, as well as Rob's parents, had been rather flabbergasted at seeing the doppelganger, but Brandon had been insistent in taking both of their fingerprints, with the police watching them.

Both had been the exact same.

Brandon had later told him that the matching fingerprints meant that he was a clone of Rob, the one who had a family, unlike Brandon, who had been with random people that really did not care about him his entire life. After all, Brandon was an unknown person from who-knew-where.

Rob stared at the paper that stated him as being adopted. What if he was the clone, and poor Brandon gone through the agony of "only" being a copy of someone for nothing?

Maybe Brandon actually did have a family somewhere, and Rob was the nobody that could only be called a copy. After all, the paper stated that he had been in the custody of a guardian, not actual parents . . .

Some letters, all from the paper he was holding, flew into the air and rearranged themselves to form a message.

You are always my friend, no matter what.

Rob stared at the message, a slight bit of hope permeating through his shock.

Of course Ghostwriter, the ghostly friend that only his friends and he could see, would be able to sense his stunned feelings and read the words on the paper that he was holding. Ghostwriter could not always really tell what exactly his human friends were thinking, but he sometimes could guess. Even if he did not know that Rob had been thinking about his clone- wait, look-a-like, since he might be the clone- he knew that something was wrong.

Rob hastily found a sheet out of the recycling bin nearby- his mother had recently put that in the study, even though his father had been rather disapproving- and uncapped the pen from the cord around his neck.

Thanks, he scrawled.

Ghostwriter could not hear anything that he or his friends said, but could always read anything that they wrote down. Rob saw the familiar sparks zoom around his writing. Ghostwriter did not fly away, though, but stayed hovering nearby for a bit. His ghostly friend then created another message.

Do you want to talk about it?

Rob shook his head even though he knew that Ghostwriter could not see him. Maybe later, he scribbled.

He smiled a bit as another message formed in front of him.

I will always help if you need it.

Rob nodded, and wrote another quick "thanks" again on the paper that he had grabbed from the recycling bin. Ghostwriter quickly swirled around his message again. The familiar sparks then zoomed through the study window, perhaps to check on another member of the team, or just to read something somewhere.

He scribbled out the notes he had written to Ghostwriter. After putting the piece of paper back in the blue plastic bin, he then placed the paper with his adoptive information on top of the pile on the cabinet, and grabbed his school backpack out of his room. Snatching an empty folder from the study closet- at least he had found those- he stashed the paper in the folder and placed it into his backpack.

Rob then locked the cabinet again and then ran out of his house, skateboard in hand. Forty-five minutes later, he replaced the paper in the folder and relocked the cabinet again, and went to his room and took out the copy he had made in the nearby library branch.

It was still real. No matter what he thought of, the truth, plain as anything, was in front of him. Maybe that was why he had created a copy of the paper, so that he would not, well, not forget, as he did not think he would be able to, but really to not somehow talk himself into thinking that he had misread something, or imagined the whole incident.

Nope, he was still adopted, and who knew who he really was. Actually, the opposite had been the "goal" of the Social Studies teacher. They had said that anyone adopted, whether themselves or their parents or so forth did not matter. How ironic, to found out that he was adopted in the process of trying to find out his ancestors.

Actually, the homework was to just find a direct line, as the teacher had said would do for now, but it did not really matter currently.

Rob looked at the duplicate of the paper again- wow, a copy like he might be a copy- frowning. Why had his parents (more like "parents") given him a new first name? Of course he would gain the last name they had, and it made sense that he would be given a middle one as apparently he had not had one, or maybe it had been unknown, for whatever reason.

Did his father just not like the name Richie? Maybe it was the name of some colonel or someone from some military base somewhere that his father had really disliked.

All the same, he really could not think himself as being Richie, though. Maybe that was just since he had been called his own name, even though it was a nickname, for most of his life. His father sometimes even called him Robbie, though that was not often.

He then heard a car door slam outside. Rob gasped and after fumbling with the window blinds for a few seconds, pried a few apart and peeked through them. His mother was back from the grocery store, laden with her purse and several bags as she headed toward the front door.

He quickly opened one of his desk drawers, and shoved the copied paper under some stories that he had written. Not too much later, his mother knocked on his door and asked if he could help with the groceries. Rob quickly agreed. He hoped that he did not sound too weird in his response.

Even though he smiled and told his mother that he had not been able to find the genealogical papers needed for his homework, and his mother later found them in the closet in her room, he knew that he still was not really her son, nor Jason's brother. No way that would ever change.

Rob moodily stared at his lunch while his friends that went to Hurston Middle School with him- Gaby and Tina were still in elementary school- chatted about random things. Alex was in the process of explaining his misadventure of somehow getting stuck in a private teachers' closet instead of a stockroom. Jamal and Lenni listened intently.

". . . and the janitor knocked on the door, and I thought it was the assistant principal," Alex said, shaking his head.

"I bet that was embarrassing once you found out," Jamal commented, taking a bite of a ham sandwich, while Lenni nodded.

The Latino boy grimaced a little bit. "Yeah, no kidding," he said. "Anyway, I kept on talking to him like he was Mr. Jershin, and he kept on giving these weird answers like 'Who is the alien on the third planet?', or 'The Martians give their consent to get in the elevator.' Stuff like that."

"What?" Lenni exclaimed, laughing, but looking really confused at the same time.

Alex gave a rueful smirk as he shook his head. "I know, right?" he replied. "So anyway, that kept on going for a while, and I kept on trying to say that I was stuck in the closet and calling him Mr. Jershin, until I heard someone else come in the room."

"Let me guess," Jamal said. "The actual Mr. Jershin."

Alex laughed. "Yeah," he said, "and he was wondering why the closet was talking. The janitor said that the mountain alien was giving him a clue from Mars. Mr. Jershin then said that he needed something from the closet, so janitor finally opened the closet and found me in it. He really looked kind of surprised."

"Was either of them mad?" Lenni asked, her fork stopped above her lasagna.

"No, maybe they were both in a good mood or something," Alex responded. "Mr. Jershin asked why I was there. The janitor nodded like he knew a secret, and said that I was a messenger from his Martian."

Lenni gave him a curious look. "Why did he say that?" the brown-haired girl asked.

"Well, you did say that he looked surprised once he found you in there," Jamal said. "Maybe he just said it since he thought that he was part of the problem, and was trying to fix it."

Alex shrugged. "I don't know. Anyway, the janitor told me where the actual stockroom was. I heard Mr. Jershin and the janitor talking after I left the room, though. It turned out that the janitor thought that I was his son. I guess they always talk to each other like that, and that was why he didn't let me out of the closet at first. Also, I guess he even says that sort of thing to other grown-ups, anyway. At least, that's what I heard Mr. Jershin say."

Jamal and Lenni laughed, and the former raised an eyebrow.

"So, Martian, where are the secret missiles for the Jupiter spying mission?" the dark-skinned boy asking teasingly.

Alex playfully threw a punch at the other boy's shoulder. "Oh, come on," he said. "You know that he was kidding, right?"

"I would hope so," Lenni said. "Or we would have a resident alien as a janitor."

"Don't forget his son," Alex added. "A resident alien classmate, hidden within the midst of us."

Jamal grinned. "That would be really cool," he said. "I've never met an alien before."

Alex looked around the cafeteria for a bit. "It would be kind of neat if there would be some people in our grade that would be aliens or something. Or maybe something like animals in disguise, or clones, even, like that weird Brandon guy," he stated, glancing at Rob for a split second.

Rob tried to only stare at his lunch instead of following a sudden urge to smack Alex from across the table. That would not help anything, and maybe his friends would even wonder why he did it. They, of course, had absolutely no clue that a clone might even be sitting at the same table with them. He had no actual proof, but then again, he was not actually part of his family like he thought he had been . . .

"I wonder where he went," Lenni said, putting her hand on her chin.

"Who knows," Jamal answered, shrugging. "He just disappeared after defeating that tall guy and some others he had been hanging around with."

"Maybe his friends from Dayton- you know, Travis and Daiki, know where he is," Lenni said after thinking for a second, naming the two people from another middle school that had befriended Rob's doppelganger.

"I don't know," Alex said, making a small face. "I mean, I guess they're kind of nice, for Dayton people, but I'm not going to that place again anytime soon."

"Me neither," Lenni agreed. She then looked at Rob. "Hey, are you going to eat anything?"

Rob started, and tried to act as if everything was just as usual. "Uh, yeah, I guess," he said, grabbing an uneaten sandwich out of his lunchbox.

A few minutes later, the bell rang and they cleared their trash and other lunch things. Sighing, Rob despondently followed his friends out of the room, listening to the incessant chatter of the whole seventh grade. He wondered if he would ever really feel that he was a part of the Ghostwriter team again.

A slight drizzle fell from the sky as Rob hurried behind his friends up the stairs that would lead to Lenni's loft. It was a few days after he had discovered about his being adopted, and he still was not sure about anything concerning it, only that he really did not belong in his family anymore. At least his friends, as well as his "parents", did not seem to notice anything wrong. Maybe that was only hopeful wishing, though.

"I hope it doesn't rain harder," Gaby complained as she reached the door after Tina. "I'm already wet enough."

Rob saw Alex make a face at his younger sister in front of him. "After you've been in the rain, for what? Two seconds?"

Gaby glared right back. "Hey, I notice you weren't lounging either," she commented with a small scowl.

Jamal raised an eyebrow. "Hey, why don't you two calm down, so we can talk about the robbery from your family's store?" he suggested before knocking on the door.

The Fernandez family owned a small grocery store that was right below Lenni's loft. Alex had told them about the robbery yesterday, and they had decided to meet in Lenni's house to discuss possible connections. Lenni had been asked by her dad to clean her room before her friends came over, so she had not come with them to talk to Alex and Gaby's parents after school.

"Maybe Rob can shove the rain aside," Alex said, looking at him expectantly.

Rob shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know," he said. He was not sure if he could, though it turned out that he did not need to since Lenni opened the door just then.

"Come in and get out the rain," she invited them.

"Gladly," Alex muttered, and followed Jamal inside.

Rob went through the door behind Gaby and Tina and went with his friends to the couch. Gaby pulled a pink notebook from her backpack. Rob saw things she had already written about the robbery there.

"So did you find out anything new from your dad?" Lenni asked hopefully.

Alex shook his head. "Nope, nothing new since yesterday," he reported.

Gaby was looking a little put out. "No one even stole anything today, and we still don't know who it was," she said, frowning.

"But that's a good thing, right?" Lenni asked. "If nothing else has been stolen?"

The Latino girl pouted. "But we don't know if it would happen again, and by who."

Alex leaned forward. "Well, we know that it was by a blonde-haired high schooler."

Gaby nodded as she pointed to her notes. "It was a boy, and he was wearing a blue backpack, and black headphones attached to a Walkman he was carrying."

"Probably stolen," Alex grumbled as he scowled.

Jamal looked at the Latino boy calmly. "Hey, we don't actually know that," he said.

Tina nodded from where she was sitting beside Gaby. "He could have been only after things in the bodega," she added. "Maybe it was even his first time stealing something."

"I don't know about that," Jamal said. "Usually if someone steals something, it's not for the first time."

"Like that clone, Brandon," Gaby chimed in. "He stole a lot of stuff."

Rob could not help but come to Brandon's defense. "But that was only because he was too scared to go against the people he was with," he challenged.

To his surprise, Alex nodded, seeming to agree with him. The short relief soon dissipated, though. "Yeah, but that was then," Alex said. "I still really don't trust him. He seems way too suspicious."

Rob scowled, trying to control his temper. Alex probably still did not trust Brandon just since he thought he was a clone, and therefore, that made him different than usual people. Why could his friends just not leave Brandon alone, already?

He was glad that his temper would not make things move in the air, or windows explode, though. At least he did not have to try to calm down to hide his small powers.

Rob huffed. "It couldn't have been him this time, anyway," he pointed out. "Mr. Fernandez actually saw him."

"Yeah, I guess," Alex said, while Rob tried to hide his frustration at the Latino boy.

He was glad when Lenni started talking again. "So what do we know about the robbery?" she asked.

Gaby and Alex gladly provided the details while the others listened, sometimes asking some questions. In the meantime, the rain turned into a torrential downpour, with sheets of water hurtling against the window panes. Twice, the apartment flashed with bright bursts of lightning.

"I thought that it wasn't even supposed to rain today," Alex complained as another thunderous crash sounded, seeming to shake the loft. Beside Tina, Gaby lifted her head, only to hide her face behind her hands again as another ginormous clap of thunder boomed.

"That's some storm," Jamal commented, looking curiously at the windows.

"I hope it doesn't last too long," Tina said worriedly, looking at the clock on the wall nearby. "I'm supposed to be home in half an hour."

Lenni smiled at the Vietnamese girl. "I'm sure it'll stop soon," she assured her.

Gaby then shrieked as the power blinked, then went out. Rob stared at the lights above them as they slowly dimmed to nothing.

"Maybe the lights will come on in a few seconds?" Alex suggested in the darkness.

"I hope so," Tina said, still sounding worried.

Jamal helped Lenni find a few flashlights in one of the cupboards, feeling in the unnatural darkness. For a while, they continued with the robbery details by the small beams' light.

Gaby huddled next to Tina. The latter put an arm around her friend, who gave no objection. Being in the dimness and his friends' almost ghostly faces, almost seemed rather eerie to Rob.

Something creaked outside, and though he usually did not freak with thunderstorms and darkness, now his thoughts turned to Brandon as he had first thought him to be- a thief, but with his super powered telekinesis and other things, along with his original people that he was around, all now on the same side again and stocking him for even daring to be a clone and having any sort of version of their power . . .

The queer feeling was shattered a few minutes later when the lights came on again. From the other side of the couch, Gaby gave a visible sigh of relief.

"That's better," she said, leaning back on the couch.

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, and better for the bodega, too, if the lights also went out in there," he pointed out.

Within twenty minutes, the rain soon slowed to a drizzle, then stopped. Rob could see some of the blue sky through the window as Lenni opened the blinds near the couch to check.

"Oh, good," Tina said, looking relieved. "I don't even have an umbrella."

"My dad and I have a few extras in the coat closet, if you ever need any," Lenni commented. "We don't ever use them all."

Alex nodded. "So now we know where we can go to get an umbrella if we need one," he said.

Gaby scowled at her brother. "Alex, you know we just live downstairs."

The Latino boy just rolled his eyes. "And who lost the two that they were given for their birthday last year?" he asked. "I keep on wondering when you're going to lose the one that you keep on borrowing from Papa."

The younger Fernandez sibling just huffed and followed Tina from the couch to the counter, from where she was getting her backpack.

Rob looked at Lenni as she waved to everyone. "See you guys tomorrow," she said cheerfully.

Everyone said a farewell, and went out the front door. Tina went ahead of them and hurried down stairs, making a U-turn once she reached the sidewalk. Rob followed Jamal down the steep steps back to ground level, carrying his skateboard under his right arm. Alex and Gaby were behind him.

Just as he reached the sidewalk, a kid with red hair burst out of the bodega with a loud jingle from the bell above the door. The boy then turned toward his direction, carrying a single bag. Rob was surprised when the red-head suddenly saw him and grinned.

"Hey, Richie!" the boy called out, running toward him.

Rob froze. Richie. The name from his adoption paper; his original name . . . How did the kid know?

He stood there as the red-head chatted away to him merrily, seeming to not notice that Rob was stunned.

"So what are you doing in New York?" he asked excitedly. "I mean, I know that you said that you were staying home, but did your family suddenly decide to visit here, like mine did?" He looked at Rob's skateboard, seeming to notice it for the first time. "That's a cool skateboard," he added. "Where'd you get it?"

Rob still was staring as Jamal came up to the red-head. "I think you have Rob mixed up with someone else," he said.

The red-head looked confused. "Rob?" he echoed. He then shook his head and laughed. "Oh, come on," he stated. "There's no way."

Alex scowled. "Your friend doesn't happen to actually be named Brandon, does he?" he asked. Rob was surprised by the furiousness in his friend's gaze. "Or is he just pretending that he isn't named Brandon. Or maybe you are."

The red-head's expression changed from friendly to utterly bewildered. "Brandon?" he asked. "What are you talking about? That's my friend Richie, from Los Angeles. You know, in California?"

"I know where Los Angeles is," Alex stated, his face still set in a scowl.

Gaby seemed to be thinking on the same lines as Alex. "Maybe you don't even know that he went by Brandon," she said.

The red-head shook his head. "No, he always goes by Richie," he said. He looked at Rob. "Hey, Richie, you can help me out here, you know," he added, smiling a bit expectantly.

Alex crossed his arms. "Yeah, right," he said. "When he was here, he was called Brandon."

"And he was a thief," Gaby added.

Rob scowled inwardly. When would his friends stop thinking so negatively against his doppelganger?

"What?" The red-head frowned. "Oh, come on," he said, looking a bit frustrated at the Fernandez siblings. "Richie's never even been here before, like me. And I know that he wouldn't steal stuff."

"He was definitely here before," Alex countered, raising one eyebrow.

"Maybe you don't know everything about him," Gaby added, scowling.

Jamal raised one hand. "Okay, hold it," he said. "Let's not argue, and try to figure this out instead."

Rob was instantly reminded of when Jamal had done the exact same type of thing when Alex had insisted that he had seen him at one of Hurston's basketball games. Instead, the Latino boy had seen Brandon. How was the same sort of thing happening again, though?

Jamal calmly turned to the red-head. "So, what's your name, and who is Richie?" he asked.

The boy raised an eyebrow, but answered. "I'm Jackie Hildon, and my friend over there is Richie Donovan." Rob frowned a bit at the unfamiliar last name, but thankfully his friends did not seem to notice. "We're both from Los Angeles."

Jamal nodded. "Okay, and that" –he pointed to Rob- "is our friend, Rob Baker."

"Definitely not your Richie guy," Gaby put in.

Jackie looked confused. "But-" He stopped, and looked at Rob again. Rob only stared, wondering what to say.

The red-head then looked at Jamal again. "So you're really not joking, then?" he asked. He turned to Rob. "And you're not Richie?"

Rob stared a bit nervously, thinking of the adoption paper, then shook his head. "Yeah, I'm Rob, like Jamal said," he responded.

Jackie's eyebrows shot up. "Whoa, you even sound like Richie," he stated, surprised. "How about that?"

"Huh?"

Jackie grinned. "Wow, so I've got to tell Richie that he's got a double," he said. His eyes suddenly widened. "Or a twin! Hey, are you adopted? He is."

Rob stared at the red-head, once again at a loss for words. Fortunately, Gaby spoke up.

"Hey, I still don't really believe you about that Richie guy," she said. "He's probably just Brandon in disguise."

"Or you're making everything up," Alex added.

Jackie frowned a bit. "No, I'm definitely telling you the truth," he said. "Also, I've known Richie my whole life. He's never been here, and he's never gone by the name Brandon."

He then turned to Rob. "So anyway, Richie was born August twenty-ninth," he informed him. "How about you? When's your birthday?"

"Probably not the same day," Alex said, rolling his eyes.

Rob looked at Jackie, trying not to panic. It had to be a coincidence, unless it was really Brandon, and the doppelganger or someone else had somehow found out the date. Plus, either him or Brandon was obviously a clone . . .

"Yeah, that actually is my birthday," he responded.

Alex turned to Rob, looking baffled. "Seriously?" he asked him.

Jackie's face lit up. "I knew it!" he said excitedly. "You're his twin! Oh, he's going to love this. So, are you adopted like Richie is? And where do you live? Or maybe if you're not adopted, then maybe your parents are actually his parents. He's always been looking for them, and he's never found anything. This is so cool!"

Jamal calmly spoke to Jackie. "Sorry, but Rob's not adopted" –Rob winced, then hoped that his friends had not noticed as he hurriedly tried to clear his face- "and he doesn't have a twin," he said.

"We already know that from when Brandon was here," Alex commented sourly.

That did not seem to deter Jackie, though. "So, who's Brandon, anyway?" he asked, grinning in a friendly manner.

"We already told you," Gaby pointed out. "Some person that looks like Rob, and he's a thief."

"He was a thief," Jamal corrected. "We don't know if he is anymore, and he did say that he didn't want to steal anymore before he left here."

Jackie looked at Jamal curiously. "So when was he here?" he asked.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Three months ago," he said.

The red-head grinned. "That just proves that this Brandon guy is not Richie, then," he said.

Gaby raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed. "Why not?" she asked.

"Because the only time that Richie and I had ever gone anywhere for the past year was the seventh grade trip to the big science museum, and that's only one city away," Jackie responded. "I would have known he if had gone anywhere else."

Alex looked at him doubtedly. "That sounds kind of fishy," he said. "It sounds more like an excuse, if you ask me. And plus, you just happen to find Rob here? That's way too coincidental."

Jackie shrugged. "Well that's the truth," he said. "I don't know who Brandon is, but it's not Richie."

A low rumble sounded from overhead. Rob looked up to see that some ominous greyish clouds had begun to form.

"Again?" asked Alex, frowning at the sky. "It already rained once today."

"At least this time we're right by the bodega," Gaby pointed out.

Her brother shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so," he said.

Jamal looked at Rob. "Hey, Rob, we better get on home before it starts raining again," he said.

"You mean pouring buckets," Alex chimed in.

Rob nodded. "Sure, I guess."

He glanced at Jackie, a bit unsure of what to say. He was not quite sure what to think, even if Richie was not Brandon . . .

Fortunately, Jackie was being more impulsive. "Hey, can I have your number?" he asked Rob. "I want Richie to know about you, and I don't want to lose touch. I might not see you again."

Rob nodded, ignoring Alex's sudden surprised face. "Sure," he assented.

He put down his skateboard, and wrote down his name and phone number on a notepad from his backpack using his Ghostwriter pen. Tearing the piece of paper from the pad, he gave it to Jackie, then the pad and pen.

Rob watched Jackie scribble his name and two phone numbers. The second one had an area code that he did not recognize. The red-head then handed both the pen and notepad back.

"This is the number where my family is staying," he said, pointing. "And the second one is my home one. I'm going to be back there in six days."

Rob nodded. "Thanks," he said, recapping his pen and putting his notepad away.

He then slung on his backpack and picked up his skateboard. "So, talk to you later, I guess," he said to Jackie, who grinned.

"Yeah," the red-head said excitedly. "It would be really cool if you're related to Richie somehow, even if you guys aren't twins after all."

Rob shrugged and watched Jackie walk down the sidewalk the same way that Tina had and disappear around a corner. Not unexpectedly, Alex rounded on him, his face looking furious.

"What did you do that for?" the Latino boy demanded.

Rob shrugged again. "Well, even if Richie is Brandon, remember that Brandon had said that he didn't want to be with the people that he was anymore," he pointed out. "He wanted to change. It might be worth something to get in touch with him again. And if he happens to not be on our side, then apparently he already knows where I am anyway, since Jackie found me here."

Jamal shrugged. "He has a point there," the dark-skinned boy stated.

"Yeah, yeah," Alex replied, rolling his eyes. "You just better be careful around that Jackie person. And don't try to go anywhere with him by yourself."

Rob frowned at the blatant order, but did not comment.

Alex turned to his sister. "C'mon, Gaby, let's go inside before it start raining again."

Gaby frowned. "I can go inside myself, thanks."

She ran to the store door and flung it open, leaving Alex to rush after her. Rob watched the door close after Alex, then finally lowered his skateboard to the sidewalk and got on. Jamal hurried next to him.

"Hey, I think that Alex had a good point when he said to be careful," he warned. "When Brandon was here, there were a lot of dangerous things going on."

Rob sighed. "Yeah, I know."

He remembered all too well Brandon's powers, much superior to what he now had, and the people the doppelganger had fought, along with his two friends from Dayton. He remembered his scowls at Rob when he saw him with his friends.

He also remembered, though, the letter that Brandon had sent him after he had left Brooklyn.

"I am not who I once was . . ." he had written in handwriting that creepily resembled Rob's own.

Brandon had changed. He was sure of it. His look-a-like was no longer the impulsive, scowling thief that his friends had seen that mostly seemed to like nothing but trouble.

Somehow, his two friends, Travis and Daiki, had caused him to want a better life. Perhaps he even wanted it beforehand, but did not know how to get it, or could not, since he was not allowed to leave the people he had been with before he had defeated them.

Maybe he actually would see Brandon again, after all. That was, if Richie was actually Brandon, anyway.

But first . . .

He slowed down, and saw Jamal a ways behind him. Turning his skateboard around, he clenched his teeth slightly for a second and hurried back to his friend. Jamal ran toward him.

"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked. "Did you forget something?"

Rob noted the look of true friendship Jamal's face. He was glad to have the team, even if they did not always agree with him. He took a steadying breath, then spoke.

"I want to show you something at my house."