Page 9 of Just a Footnote

“Noted.”

“I’m not going to Boston for Christmas. Miles can come to us.”

Archer lets out a long suffering sigh. “Double noted.”

Aiden leans against the counter, taking slow sips of his coffee, while watching Archer shift around the kitchen. There’s something up with his twin but he doesn’t know what.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Archer says too quickly.

Aiden narrows his eyes. “You’re lying.”

Archer snorts then awkwardly busies himself with a banana. “You would know.”

The air around them thickens a little. Archer goes to apologize, but Aiden waves him off. It’s not worth an argument. Aiden used to be the one that lied for their mom all the time.Oh, you see, Mom couldn’t pick us up because she was working late. My momdidn’t mean to steal that Walkman from the store, Officer. It was my fault. Can she get a pass? She didn’t mean to give you less ounces than you asked for, it was my fault. I distracted her by asking for help with my homework.

Archer was never as good at lying. Lying stuck with Aiden. One of the only people that can see through his lies is Archer but even then…not all the time. Thankfully.

“Next year…without Miles,” Archer admits, running a weary hand through his overlong hair.

Aiden keeps his hair short but Archer’s is long enough to need a hair tie. They’ve always done it that way even though it’s easy to tell them apart now. As kids, it wasn’t so easy. Their mom needed a way to tell them apart so it was always their hair. A much better way than the sharpie mark on their hands when they’d only been toddlers.

“Without Miles?” Aiden prods.

Archer releases a loud breath he’d been holding. “I haven’t been without him since we were teens. It’ll take getting used to.”

“You still have time to try to get placed on the same team,” Aiden points out, sipping from his coffee to get rid of the sour taste in his mouth.

“No.” Archer shakes his head vehemently. “We have to learn to be apart. Learn who we are without each other.”

Aiden hums but continues to watch Archer move through the kitchen. That statement could be true for them too. A therapist would probably suggest they cut the cord already. But Aiden isn’t ready and it seems like Archer isn’t either. The idea that Archer is separating himself from Miles just so he can stay close to Aiden… it rolls around in his head for a while. He doesn’t want Archer to choosehimover his own happiness.

He must’ve zoned out because when he comes to Archer is staring at him in an assessing manner. “Do you need me to grab more lollipops at the store?”

Aiden rolls his eyes but nods just enough that Archer can read the silent thanks in the movement. He’d taken up smoking in one of their foster homes, something that Archer had always loathed. Cancer sticks, he’s always called them. The only way he’d been able to quit was Miles and Archer supplying him with those stupid lollipops that they always have at banks. He’s since graduated to blow pops and tootsie pops but he still misses a good cigarette sometimes. There’s nothing like the burn of a cigarette, especially when experiencing volatile emotions that Aiden likes to pretend he cannot feel.

Once Archer disappears into his room, Aiden leans against the kitchen counter with an ache in his chest. Downing his scalding coffee, he returns to his room to study for the rest of the day with thoughts of Christmas echoing around inside his head.

2

Early December in Georgia is always a crapshoot. Some years it’s bitter cold and some years it feels like an early spring has arrived. This year the cold arrives early. Little puffs of white escape his mouth as gulps in the night air when he exits the library. A late night study session with classmates to study for their upcoming final has left him exhausted.

He tugs his backpack higher on his shoulder, tucking his frozen hands into his hoodie. The cold always hits him a little harder than it does most other people. Poor circulation. His fingers feel a little tingly as he walks but he does his best to ignore it.

“Aiden!”

Aiden pauses at the familiar sound of his name from behind him. Sure enough, he turns around to find Liam jogging towards him from the direction of the gym. His usually carefully styled dark hair is a wet mess atop his head. He looks so unpolished that it throws Aiden off kilter for a second. Even after games when he exits the locker room his hair is usually perfect. It’s a sight to see.

“Sup?” Aiden asks, sending a nod in Liam’s direction.

“Just finished practice.”

Aiden is momentarily confused. “Archer didn’t tell me there was a practice tonight.”

“He wasn’t there,” Liam hurries to explain as they continue walking. “It was just me and Ollie. Practicing our shots.”

Aiden hums. Even though he wants to ask more, he doesn’t.

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