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“He’s been off,” I tell her. “And he won’t talk to anyone about it, but he’s distant.”
“Well, that does sound like the usual Reid,” Jane tries to appease me and she’s not wrong.
He definitely has his moments and is moodier than the rest of us, but something’s just off with him. I can feel it, and I know Hayden and Nikolai can too.
“And Boone?” she asks, breaking the silence that’s stretched between us as my mind wonders. Jane’s met him a few times and the two of them clicked well, as Jane tends to do with pretty much anyone she meets.
“He seems to be doing well. I don’t remember if I told you but Naomi’s on tour with us so I think that’s been really good for him to have her here.”
“Ugh, I hope you’re all keeping that bus clean then with a lady onboard. I know how nasty the four of you can let things get.”
“We’re not teenagers anymore, we know how to use disinfectant wipes.”
Jane scoffs and I can particularly hear her eyes roll.
“Plus, they have a separate bus. It’s just the boys and Scar on ours.”
Jane pounces before I even have the chance to realize what I said. “Scar? You mean Scarlett Lane, the opener? You’re on a nickname basis with her?”
Jane the lawyer mode is coming out, grilling me with questions like I’m on the stand.
“Dude, chill out a second.” I sit up, leaning my back against the headboard and stretching my legs out in front of me. Clearly, I’m not going to be getting any sleep.
“Yes, Scarlett Lane. And yes, she goes by Scar. It's not just a nickname I have for her, so calm down.”
“Tell me about her,” Jane presses. Some twin instinct must’ve flared in her head, putting her on alert.
“We’ve talked about me enough,” I say, redirecting the conversation. “How’s your last semester of law school going?”
Jane’s in her final year at Harvard Law School, a dream that both her and my dad have always shared. Academics have always been her strong suit over mine.
“Uh, no thanks, I think I’d rather hear more about Scar.”
“Jane.” I sigh, but she cuts me off.
“This isn’t me just being an annoying sister, I promise. I just truly don’t want to talk about school right now,” she says, tone dropping off at the end.
“Is everything okay?” I sit up a little straighter, worry gnawing at me, followed closely by guilt over the fact that I haven’t checked in with her since the tour started.
A heavy sigh comes through the phone. “It’s fine, I’m just drained. And ready mentally and emotionally to be done.”
I nod, not able to fully understand what she’s dealing with, considering her course load and internship, but empathizing with her nonetheless. “I’m sorry.”
Growing up in the same grade level, Jane was still always miles ahead of me academically. She’s been the smartest person in the room since we could basically talk, excelling in not only the regular, required classes but also AP courses as well.
Twins are constantly compared to one another, and Jane and I were no different. Sure, it was less than twins of the same sex, but we always knew people were calculating in their heads who’s the smarter one, who’s the funnier one, who’s the more athletic one, and so on.
It could’ve been something that drove us apart, led us to be jealous of one another and treat everything like a competition. But it was clear from the beginning that our parents wouldn’t allow that to happen and bless them for it. They never drew comparisons between us, instead encouraging the two of us to find what we were good at and nurture it but not at the expense of the other.
Jane’s intelligence is intimidating for many, and I could’ve been by it too. But instead it felt like a gift that she enjoyed school so much.
Our father recognized that drive in her from an early age and dedicated much of his energy into her studies, helping her find more challenging courses and pushing herself in and out of the classroom. Her studies took a lot of the heat away from me and how I was performing in school, which was always average to below average.
I struggled paying attention, not able to find it in me to care about mathematical formulas or the periodic table. I just wanted to make noise, create music, dive deeper into the creative side of things. If it wasn’t for my parents basically forcing me to graduate high school before Whisper Me Nothings moved to Los Angeles, I never would’ve finished school.
A car horn blares through the line, startling me. “What was that?”
Jane lets out an annoyed huff. “Sorry, some asshole just making his impatience with traffic everyone else’s problem.”
