Page 35 of The Ruse

“Because I was eight and dumb.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly as cool as I am now, and so I wanted to be friends with the cool new kid.” He said it lightly, but I caught a hint of regret in his voice.

“You couldn’tallbe friends?” I asked.

“Three’s a crowd.”

Which I guess was true. Growing up, I certainly had enough experience of being the third wheel whenever Ava had a friend come over.

Asher continued, “Then I said something stupid when they found Carter and he moved into their mansion with them.”

“What did you say?”

We had made it to the library by this point, but instead of going in to find my friends, Asher stopped just outside the door. He chewed on his lip for a second before saying, “I don’t remember exactly, but I’m pretty sure I said something about how Carter was going to be his dad’s new favorite kid and that everyone at school was going to want to be friends with the upgraded version of Nash.”

I took a step back, somewhat shocked by his words. “You said that?”

“Something like that, anyway.” And he had the decency to look like he felt bad about what the younger version of him had said to his one-time best friend.

“I can see why Nash resented you,” I said. “He and Carter are in the same grade. They were already going to be competing in everything. Competition for the best grades, to be the best in sports, the best at making friends, the best at getting dates. Nash didn’t need to think he’d be competing for his dad’s love, too.”

I suddenly felt a kinship I hadn’t felt before with Nash. Because he and I were so similar, since I had always been compared to Ava.

She was the fun twin.

I was the serious twin.

She was good at sports.

I was the straight-A student.

She was the twin people called when they wanted to hang out.

I was the twin you wanted to do a group project with because I usually did all the work.

“It was a really stupid thing for me to say at the time,” Asher interrupted my thoughts, probably picking up on my sudden agitation at the memories flitting through my mind. “Eight-year-old me was an idiot.”

“Did you ever apologize?” I asked.

He scratched the back of his neck. “Probably not.”

“So you’ve been at war ever since?”

“Basically.”

“That’s kind of sad.”

“That’s what my brother Owen tells me.” He pushed away from the wall, and we walked through the library doors. “It’s had one good side effect, though.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, curious how he could think a rivalry like theirs could have a good side.

“It’s helped push us to be the best at our craft,” he said. We walked past the checkout counter where the librarian looked up from her book to smile at us. “Miss Crawley probably wouldn’t have doneThe Phantom of the Operaif Nash and I hadn’t pushed each other so hard to be the best.”

“You’re saying I should thank you and Nash for fighting just enough to give me the opportunity to play Christine?” I glanced up to look at Asher’s tall form.

“Sure,” he said with a smile. “I’ll take the credit for that.”

I shook my head. “And here I thought I got it because I worked really hard and have been singing those songs since I was five.”

“So maybe you earned some of it on your own.” He winked.

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