Chapter 3: Stepbrothers and Secrets

AN: Hi everyone! I'm apologizing in advance for the grammar in this chapter...I know my grammar is far from perfect normally, but I wrote this chapter on a public computer with a sticky spacebar. Ugh! I also just wanted to remind all of you that this is a complete work of fiction. The Phillies are Frankie's favorite team because everyone hates Philadelphia sports fans, and she's competitive to the point of obnoxiousness. So it fits. Did Mickey Tate break the Home Run Derby record? No, Vlad Guerro Jr did. Have the Phillies won back-to-back World Series'? Almost, but no dice. So I guess this is kind of like a MLB fanfiction too. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to let me know what you think!

After I sighed like we'd had this argument about baseball camp a million times (which we had) and I was done arguing (which I wasn't), Cameron and I ended our call, which is when I decided that couldn't possibly focus on chemistry.

So I went to plan B.

Logan.

Logan Watson is, in every sense of the word but the biological, my brother. We even look alike, at least, as far as stepsiblings go. We're both blonde with blue eyes, but the resemblance stops there. Logan's blonde is more of a sun-bleached, surfer type, while mine's more of a sandy blonde, pin-straight and cut to my shoulders.

At one point, Logan's hair also was closer to his shoulders. It was when the whole baseball team refused to get haircuts for the entire season. Mags was almost happy when they lost in the first round of state playoffs, because that meant that Logan would finally cut his hair. He's still got the iconic baseball player "flow", though. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you should definitely look it up. There are always a few really good examples during the College World Series. It helps that the college players are really cute, too.

Baseball was Logan's entire life. Nothing, for Logan, could be anything short of perfection during the baseball season, and most of our summers were spent watching him play on tournament teams and in exhibition games for major league and college scouts.

It helped that, while Cameron was at his special snowflake baseball camp, his dad was here at home for the most part and pretty bored without his son. So, Mr. Tate hooked Logan up with some pretty important people.

How does Mr. Tate know the important people?

Because Mr. Tate is important people.

How important?

4-time All-Star, NL Rookie of the Year, 3-time World Series Champion, back-to-back World Series MVP… the list goes on and on, but you get the picture. Why is he friends with us? Because the year he broke the record for the most home runs in the home run derby, my dad was assigned to cover the Phillies.

And guess which team Mr. Tate played for from the time he was drafted out of high school, until his retirement five years ago.

The two men met, and bonded over being single dads.

Is it fate? Maybe. Or maybe the odds were just in my favor for once.

Doubtful.

So I guess it was fate.

So what does Logan have to do with my realization that Cameron was hiding something from me? Well, if they were in cahoots, Logan would be the one to let something slip. And if they weren't, and Cameron was keeping something from the both of us, then Logan was my best chance at finding out what it was.

"We need to talk," I said as I rounded the corner into his bedroom.

My brother, from where he was slouched at his desk, attempting to do his own homework, raised an eyebrow. "Are you breaking up with me?"

I rolled my eyes. "I just used that on Mags at dinner. You can't use it when I just said it."

"I probably taught it to you anyway, pipsqueak."

I sighed as I flopped onto his barely made bed, regretting my plan to ask Logan for help. He was never as helpful as I needed him to be. Alas, he was the best I had.

"I think Cameron's hiding something from me," I said, cutting straight to the chase.

Logan looked at me incredulously, "What?"

"I think Cam-"

My brother shook his head, cutting me off. "No, no, I heard you the first time, I just didn't believe you."

I glared at him, and he held up his hands in an "I surrender" sort of gesture.

"Seriously! Why would he keep something from you? Also, how would he keep something from you? You guys are literally always with each other. The only time you're not is-"

This time, I interrupted him. "Baseball camp."

And if I said it the way I say "the Mets", then that's nobody's business but mine.

Logan still wasn't convinced. "Jesus, Frank, I know you hate Cam's baseball camp, but I think you're going a little far this time."

"Ugh! Listen to me," I groaned. "Cameron never pulls the special snowflake card, and he shouldn't be going if his foot is broken."

"I mean, yeah, that's weird, but Frankie, he loves baseball," Logan shook his head. "You'd be out there, same as him, if it were track team, or doctor camp, or something else that you're obsessed with."

"Doctor Camp wouldn't be in New York," I grumbled face-first into a pillow. "Worst-case scenario, I'd on the other side of Philly."

"Not my point, Frankie."

I lifted my head up to shoot him a dirty look. "You're not listening to mine, why should I try to see yours?"

"Because I'm older?"

"I'm wiser, dingbat."

"Dingbat? Real mature, Franklin."

I stuck my tongue out at him, then after a minute, I sobered up. "I dunno Logue; I have a weird feeling about this. And the dreams-"

Apparently, in this family, we never let each other finish our sentences.

"What dreams?" Logan cut me off, looking gravely serious.

I shrugged, looking at him funny. "I can't really remember them so well, but Cameron's in them, and he's acting weird."

"Like, how weird? Like, dating you weird, or mentally unstable weird?" The insult fell short of its intended target, it seemed as Logan's heart wasn't really in the insult.

Usually, Logan wouldn't hesitate to make a joke about Cameron and me, for some reason, he thinks I'm going to end up dating him. He's probably wrong. If you haven't noticed, I'm kind of the brains around here.

"Neither, just... Weird." I shook my head, "It's hard to explain."

Logan frowned. "Try."

And so I told him everything. I told him about Mrs. Smith picking on me, and how I'll have nightmares about her growing claws and trying to murder me after every detention I served with her. I told him about Cameron's weirdness, and about the dreams I'd had. The ones of Cameron and me on a train, whispering so nobody would hear us talk about our Latin homework? The ones of Cameron wearing metal armor, like one of the Knights of the Round Table, except the armor looked much different than the kinds we'd seen in Honors European History. It almost looked like it was from the classical era.

I even told him about the dreams I'd had about him. The ones of him glowing, like he was doused in glitter and gotten a spotlight shone on him. The ones of us fighting with swords and spears like ancient heroes.

I didn't tell him about some of the darker ones. Of storm clouds gathering, blocking out the sun, darkening the world around me. The ones where people would flood the streets and I'd turn away, and when I looked again, the streets would be awash with blood.

The ones that made me turn on the light in the middle of the might, close the curtains, and lock my windows.

The ones that made me scared to go back to sleep.

AN: dun dun dun! It all seems a little cliché at this point, and there isn't too much here, but I promise that this is a really important chapter leading up to the far more interesting stuff that's coming soon! What did you think? Please comment, favorite, follow, and PM me if you like what you read! Thanks guys!