The room was dark. Just the pale glow of a monitor and the slow RGB pulse of a PC tower. Sixteen-year-old Jordan James sat back in his chair, headphones clamped on, a blunt burning between two fingers, watching Episode 1 of Euphoria.
It was dramatic. Entertaining. He liked it.
Then he saw Maddy Perez.
"Damn, she's sexy."
He got hard. One thing led to another. And while he was leaning back, the chair slipped and his head caught the corner of the nightstand on the way down.
And that was that.
* * *
Jordan Bennet
* * *
I woke up in a bed I did not recognize, in a room I had never seen.
Then the yelling started downstairs.
"Jordan!!"
"Rue's home. She came back!"
"Shh. Keep it down. You know he came home late last night."
I sat up. Two voices. An older woman and a younger girl.
"Mom, he would want to know. His twin sister just got back. After everything."
Twin sister.
I stood. I was taller than I expected, maybe 6'1" or 6'2". The room had tools stacked in the corner, a basketball against the baseboard, and a beat machine on the desk. The monitor showed a folder labeled [Boosted Jay].
Wtf.
I went downstairs.
The girl at the bottom looked exactly like Zendaya.
No. Not Zendaya. The second I thought it, a pressure split open behind my eyes and I dropped to one knee on the bottom step, one hand braced against the wall.
It hit like a wave. Two lifetimes of memory rushing into the same skull. Jordan James. Jordan Bennet. Crashing together until they settled into one person.
Me.
"Jordan, oh my God, are you alright?" Mom was already at my side.
"Sorry. Migraine. Probably did not sleep enough."
"Did you take your pills? I do not know if migraines are even a symptom of ADHD."
"It's a symptom of being human."
I stood, steadied myself, and crossed to Rue. I leaned in close and kept my voice low.
"I told you to stop fucking with that stuff."
She looked up at me, tired and half-smiling.
"You're one to talk."
She hugged me. I let her. After a second I said, "Alright. I'm going back to my room."
* * *
I sat at the desk and opened the [Boosted Jay] folder. His Instagram handle. His rap name, even though he had never put anything out. My rap name now, I guess.
The double life sorted itself out pretty fast. After school, Jordan Bennet worked as a mechanic's apprentice for a man named Zen. In reality he ran drops, did not ask what was in them, did not need to, and got paid in cash, car parts, and time under the hood of a turbocharged LS-swapped 350Z that kept getting cleaner with every job.
This guy was living a whole double life.
I guess I'm living a double life now.
While I was at the desk, Rue must have slipped out. A knock came at the door.
"Come in."
Gia opened it and leaned against the frame. She had something on her mind.
"How come you and Rue are not closer? I feel like I was more excited about her coming home than her own twin."
I turned the chair to face her.
"We are close. Rue just does not do the emotional thing. Neither do I."
She looked at me like she wanted to push back. I kept going.
"Look, Gia. We have got stuff going on up here." I tapped my temple. "Rue's is heavier than mine. So do not push her, do not smother her. Just pay attention. Learn when she needs space and when it is okay to be the annoying little sister."
"I'm not annoying."
I laughed. "Not all the time. But a lot."
She rolled her eyes and walked out.
* * *
I put my headphones back on and hit play on the most recent file.
It was a freestyle. Mixed, not professional, but for a seventeen-year-old with a bedroom setup it was genuinely good. Good enough to put out. Every time I thought about actually doing that, though, something in my chest tightened a little.
The file had no title. I typed Freestyle and left it.
My phone buzzed. Zen.
"Got a job. $300 for wheels off a junked car. Come through."
"Be there soon."
I told Mom I would be back, went outside, and started the car. The exhaust was quiet. I had a cutout valve for a reason. Some nights you wanted to be heard. Most nights you wanted to be invisible.
* * *
I saw Maddy on the way.
She was on the sidewalk and I made myself look away before I could stare too long.
Damn. Sexier in person.
The pickup was quick. I did not ask what was in the bag. Plausible deniability, or something like that. The drop was to Fezco.
"What up, Fez."
He glanced up from behind the counter, easy as always.
"My guy, what's up?"
"Got a drop for you."
I set it down. He handed me the cash. I counted it, got back in the car, and drove.
Easy money.
* * *
At the shop, I looked over the wheels Zen had pulled.
"I thought you said these were off a junked car."
"Engine blew," Zen said. "Fixing it would have cost more than buying a new one."
He paid me and we got to work. Pulled the old tires, mounted them on the new rims, put them on the 350Z. I stood back when we were done.
It looked better every time. Every job, it got a little sexier.
* * *
Driving home, I spotted Rue on her bike.
She walked through the front door a few minutes before I did. By the time I was inside, the yelling had already started.
Drug test. Apparently.
She found me upstairs.
"Pee for me."
"Does weed show up in those things?"
She stared at me. "Does cough medicine show up?"
"Probably not, but—"
"Let's not risk it."
She climbed out the window. I went back to the desk.
I opened the audio file.
Freestyle. Still untitled, technically. But it was something. It was a start.