Chapter One

"We can do this. We can Jimmy Neutron this," Anna said from her position on the computer chair.

"I don't think a brain blast is going to come anytime soon," I said.

"Patience," she chided. "Jimmy Neutron, hear our prayers."

"Blast our brains, Oh Brainy Jimmy," I mocked her.

"We promise to only do good with your knowledge."

"Hey, I never agreed to that."

"Pray to Jimmy, Sam. Pray with a pure heart, and he may blast us!"

Heeding her advice, I stretched out on her bed as she jabbed her index fingers either side into her temples, willing inspiration to come and fix our problems.

Her room was tidy. Bedsheets crisp, curtains ironed that morning, pencils perfectly aligned on her desk and her shoes were chronologically coloured according to the rainbow chart. The sun shone light into the room, and you know that dust that usually flies around? There was none. Even the air was one hundred percent perfect. Now that was super weird. She'd sometimes turn on the vacuum and raise it to the air . . .

To the right of the bed, there was her bedroom window that looked directly into my parents' room. That's right, we were neighbours, and if it weren't for the fact that we grew up peeking at each other from our shared fence, we probably would've never have been friends. Anna was super organised, with her binders and her spreadsheets that planned out her day in thirty-minute increments. I was more like a goldfish, hardly remembering what happened thirty seconds ago, never mind caring to structure my day. We balanced each other out. Her incessant documentation of every minute of every day – to my planning of nothing; meant when put together, we merged into one average and functional human.

Let's just say that if my bedroom were directly across from Anna's and not her sister, Sabrina's, she'd always have her curtains closed to avoid even a split-second glance into my room. The 'messy' state of my bedroom was also the number one reason why we mostly hung out in Anna's bedroom. To the average person, my room was well kept, but it wasn't up to Anna's high standards. I was okay with that. The only downside to the Jenkins household was keeping my brain sharp and not for Anna – but for Sabrina who could throw insults like darts hitting constant bullseyes. She never missed.

Mom noticed me doing absolutely nothing from inside her bedroom and mimicked reading a book, whipping her wrist and pointing at me. All I had to do to explain the situation was to put my fingers to my brain. She nodded and went about changing her bedsheets. Mom was well accustomed to Anna's endless non-existent brain blast moments.

"Brainstorm. We need an extracurricular activity that we can do together. Something that we both like, that would impress colleges, and at the same time will make us not want to kill each other," she sighed. "It sounds impossible."

"Or . . . How about . . . hear me out, we don't need to?"

"Sam, you have nothing to impress them with!"

"Listen," I urged. "You take or don't take on an extracurricular and then in your off time, we spend it together? Wow, we sound like a married couple."

She shook her head. "Two problems."

"Hit me."

"One. Your solution doesn't help with your lack of experiences to put on your college application."

"I'll make shit up."

"No. That's lying. Lying is bad."

"White lies are super important to a functioning society but okay, Anna."

"Two," she raised her voice. "It'll be our only time to spend together because I'll be too tired and too stressed and too . . . Studious to want to spend time with you if I'm not doing something to progress my way in life. Don't you understand? Our friendship this year depends on us working for the future together. As a team."

"Lame but okay. Choose one. Anything."

Anna sighed, messing up her perfectly straight hair which was a big red warning sign that she was mega stressed. "Debate team?"

I stood up and starting spinning Anna around in the computer chair. "No offence but you can't say 'hold up, waiting for a brain blast' and have you seen me debate?"

"Yeah . . . You literally fought for the good of lies a minute ago. Point taken."

" . . . Choir?"

" . . . So you can mime, and we can't talk? No." Anna leaned her head back and peeked up at me. "Gay-straight alliance?"

"Too gay."

" . . . Sam."

"You're right. My bad."

"So . . . ?"

"Too straight."

"Forget that," she grumbled. "We can't have a brain blast in here. The aura's off. It's too cluttered in here. I'm sorry you had to see this mess, Sam."

"Yes. How dare you expose your wardrobe for everyone to see?" I spun her in the direction of the said wardrobe and jabbed my finger in the direction of the slightly cracked open door.

"I knew it! I knew there was something off!"

"You're going to start cleaning now, aren't you?"

"It helps me think." She opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out two new pairs of yellow rubber gloves and tossed me a pair.

"Alright. Let's rub a dub dub this place."

We didn't need to go downstairs and into the kitchen to get cleaning supplies because they had their own shelving unit right above Anna's bed. There was bleach, sponges, cloths, surface cleaner and air freshener – the works so there was no excuse to travel downstairs to escape and have a break for a few minutes.

Because her clothes had been exposed to everyone that entered her room, her family and me, she needed to take them all out to refold them. 'Sabrina could have borrowed or touched them' and well it wasn't the most logical reason. They had vastly different styles. Anna style consisted of was all buttoned up to the very top shirts and grandad cardigans. In contrast, Sabrina was more into chic – stuff that was tailored to look pretty classy. Both awesome, both smart – but couldn't be more different styles.

Anna used a dab of toothpaste on soft cloths and scrubbed her window in a circular motion to remove tiny little scratches on the window, and I sat in her closet fidgeting with her clothes on my lap. Her sweatshirt was extremely fluffy and black, so instead of folding it properly, I petted it and sat comfortably in the closet. Usually, cleaning helped Anna, but by the way, she scrubbed and swiped the cloth for a damp cloth, creasing her forehead as she wiped the window, her stress probably doubled in size.

There was only one thing that could help her. I flopped back and clutched my head. Without a second of hesitation, Anna was diving across the room and kneeling in front of me, clutching my head between her arms.

"Yes! Brain blast!" she yelled. "Thank God, I was starting to lose hope."

"I see . . . "

"Yeah? What do you see?"

"Hey, Anna what time do you want to . . . Why are you both in the closet?" Sabrina asked.

"Yeah Anna . . . it should be your sister and me in here instead."

"Gay," Sabrina said.

"Exactly," I said. "We are. She isn't. Anna . . . the closet club isn't for you."

"Please don't tell me that was your brain blast?" Anna said, removing her hands from my head.

"That would be a waste considering we were never in the closet, to begin with," Sabrina said and took up residence on Anna's bed, crossing her legs at the ankles. "You only brain blast when you're freaking out about something. What are you two up to?"

Anna clenched her jaw and pressed her fingers to her head again, leaving me to answer the question. Sabrina's dark eyebrows rose a little like she was daring me to carry on that whole 'in the closet' conversation. I just smiled back as sweetly as my face allowed knowing that the truth behind the story was something she'd rather not bring up in front of her sister.

That was the thing about being next-door neighbours, it wasn't only Anna that I'd had the chance to get close to, it was Sabrina as well. Back when I was twelve, and she was thirteen, I'd been at their house for a sleepover. I was Anna's friend, but Sabrina was always there too. It led to a low key friendship. One night, while Anna was fast asleep on the couch in the sitting room, we found ourselves in Sabrina's room, on her bed, whispering under the covers and bam—we kissed. The rest of our questioning whether we were gay or not was history. The crush was cemented. Soon I realised that yeah, Sabrina Jenkins was way out of my league, so we stopped having sleepovers at Anna's house and had them at mine . . . Until she threw a tantrum over the 'mess' of my room and reinstated sleepovers back in the Jenkins household.

It was safe to say that, that blossoming friendship was killed with a kiss and no—it didn't transform into something more than that.

Anna used my shoulders to push herself off the ground and joined her sister on the bed, waiting for me to answer the question. Pretending I hadn't stared into space for like thirty seconds, I explained, "Anna thinks we can't be friends if we're not in a club or society thing together this year."

"Wow . . . the foundation of your friendship is staggeringly brittle," Sabrina said.

"Right?" I said.

"Shut up, that's not true, I love Sam," Anna defended. "She's folding my clothes. Something you never do."

"I . . . " Sabrina did a double-take. "I have my own clothes to fold?"

"Yeah. She loves me more. I fold her clothes," I boasted.

"And to think I was going to solve your friendship problem," Sabrina said, standing up and placing her hands behind her back, rocking back and forth faux innocently.

"You are!" Anna pulled her back down on the bed and pinned her down. "Help me!"

"Nope," Sabrina refused.

"She's messing," I said.

"My idea includes Anna's anal-retentive skills and your artsy skills," Sabrina boasted. "But no. I'm unloved—ergo my ideas are not up for grabs."

"I love you," Anna offered.

"Blood doesn't mean anything to you."

" . . . Exactly? You're both adopted?" I said.

"Symbolism, Sam, keep up," Anna said, snapping her fingers. "Come on, Sabrina, spill."

Sabrina shoved her off and went to stand by the door. "I don't know. If I don't . . . that means I won't see Sam's face around every corner."

Anna's shoulders sagged. "We used to be the golden trio. I don't want what's happened between you two to happen between Sam and me, okay?"

"Well . . . This got too real. I'm out." Sabrina saluted, and before excusing herself, she said, "Oh yes, I'm having a party later. Bye."

With Sabrina's quick departure, the room fell into an awkward silence. Anna's insistence that we choose something to do together obviously stemmed from a more in-depth space than worrying about not having enough time for each other. Going as far as to compare mine and her sister's friendship to the friendship between us. This called for me to take it more seriously. No wonder she'd been an anxious and storming mess ever since I'd had come over.

I sat beside her on the bed, wrapping my arm around her shoulder, tugging her in nice and tight. "We'll find something to do together. I promise. Even we don't? I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't understand how you two could go from everyday speaking to each other to . . . that."

"We weren't best friends, Anna. Sometimes it happens."

"You're downplaying how close you were to each other."

"Anyway . . . The point is, you and me? We're for life."

"She had a perfect idea, though! I could see it in her eyes." Anal retentive roles and an artsy role. It did sound perfect. Anna suddenly shot off the bed and brought her hands up to her face and gaped her mouth open. "I've got it. Oh my God, it's perfect. It's perfect, Sam!"

"Alright . . . hit me with it."

"The prom committee!"

"Oh, no."

"Oh, yes!"

Damn it. I made a promise to myself. Whatever it took. This was going to be interesting.