Broken Beautiful Hearts(23)



One of the Twins notices Hawk and waves. “Over here, Pop.”

I have no idea if he’s Christian or Cameron. Most identical twins don’t look exactly alike. Subtle differences, like the curve of a jawline or the slant of an eyebrow, help people tell them apart. But Christian and Cameron are mirror reflections of each other—the same broad shoulders and square jaws, blue eyes and dirty-blond hair, and milky white skin and boyish smiles.

“That was one hell of a game, boys.” Hawk clamps a hand on each son’s shoulder.

“Did you see me take down their receiver?” one of my cousins asks, sweaty blond hair flattened against his skull.

His brother elbows him out of the way. “Yeah, yeah. That was after I sacked the quarterback.”

“You both did your part.” Hawk sounds as if he’s used to the Twins competing for his approval. “How about you both try not to embarrass yourselves in front of Aunt Sissy and your cousin?”

“Which one is which?” I whisper to Mom.

“Cameron is number seven and Christian is number eleven,” Hawk says. He must have dog hearing.

Cameron sees me and grins. “You look so much older.”

“So do you guys.”

Christian looks at me and elbows his brother. “This is gonna be a problem.”

Cam nods. “I was thinking the same thing.”

I cross my arms. “Why would I be a problem?”

“Not you,” Christian says. “This.” He moves his hand up and down in front of me, like he’s referring to what I’m wearing—or he thinks I’m such a mess that they need to hide me in the house. “We don’t want the guys at school—”

“Talking about me?” I finish for him.

Cam gives me a weird look. “He was going to say looking at you.”

“I think the Twins are giving you a compliment,” Mom says.

“Oh.” I feel like a jerk, but I’m relieved my cousins aren’t embarrassed to be seen with me. “Don’t worry. I’ll be able to handle your friends.”

Christian looks unsure. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“You can’t bet on anything because you don’t have enough money to buy a pack of gum, loser,” Cameron fires back. Within seconds, the Twins are shoving each other like ten-year-olds.

“That’s enough, boys,” Hawk says, and the Twins stop.

“There’s a party at Titan’s,” Cameron tells Hawk. “We’ll take Peyton with us and introduce her to everyone.”

I have zero interest in meeting people tonight. I’d rather sit through another football game. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’m worn out from the drive.” I yawn for effect.

Cameron’s eyes dart to my brace. “You’re probably not ready to go to a party after what happened at the last one.”

“But things wouldn’t have gone down like that if we’d been there. Your ex would’ve been the one who ‘fell’”—Christian makes air quotes—“down the stairs.”

My stomach lurches.

The Twins know what really happened to my knee. The one thing I don’t want anyone in Black Water to find out.

“I think you embarrassed her,” Cam whispers to Christian loudly. “Change the subject.”

I glare at the Twins.

A crease forms between Christian’s eyebrows as he tries to come up with something. Cam elbows him. Christian shoves him back. “I’m working on it.”

What are the odds these two can keep a secret?

Suddenly, Christian blurts out, “Buck Richards kissed a hot girl after the game in Knoxville last week and it turns out she’s his cousin—twice removed, whatever that means.”

The secret-keeping odds don’t look good.





CHAPTER 10

Treading Water

I LOOK OVER at Mom, but she’s too busy staring down my uncle to notice. She obviously didn’t know Hawk told the Twins the truth about my knee.

Hawk rubs the space between his eyebrows and clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Peyton. I should’ve checked with you or Sissy before I said anything.”

So much for Mom making sure Hawk didn’t tell anyone.

“But they won’t say a word about it. Right, boys?”

“No, sir,” Cam says.

Hawk looks at Christian, who says, “I won’t even breathe.”

My uncle nods. “All right, then. Why don’t you do everybody at the party a favor and hit the showers.”

The Twins jog off, and I’m stuck with Mom and Hawk and I sense a heart-to-heart conversation coming. I’m tired of answering the same depressing questions. Am I in any pain? Am I having a hard time getting around? Am I worried about losing my scholarship?

All of the above.

“Where’s the restroom?” It’s the only place they won’t follow me.

Hawk points toward the main entrance. “Straight down on the left. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.” I take off, determined to get out of earshot before they start talking about me.

In the restroom, a faucet drips below a huge mirror decorated with BLACK WATER WARRIORS bumper stickers. I lean against the wall and let the cold seep through the back of my jacket.

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