Summary: “Okay, you set me up with someone, and I set you up with someone. You better pick someone good, Drake.” Callie and Drake Parker were the most identical twins on the planet, but when it came to love, they couldn’t be any more different. So much for twin telepathy.

Chapter 1: Boys Like Girls

“Your voice is the soundtrack of my summer!” I heard my twin brother Drake yell. His voice echoed out from his room into mine, where I was busy rearranging the garbage pile (according to my mother) in my room to actually make it look cleaner. I looked up from my dirty pile of clothes and sighed. He never played Boys Like Girls unless something terrible happened. Again.

I stood up, dusted the debris off my shorts and walked into Drake’s room. It looked way neater than mine (I don’t understand how this boy can be such a neat freak all the time), except for the brown-haired mess on the bed who was supposed to be Drake Andrew Parker. “What’s wrong with you?” I questioned angrily, turning off the stereo. As if he didn’t hear me, Drake continued to wail lyrics aloud. “Hey, dumbass! What the hell is going on with you?!”

“My life’s a huge wreck!” Drake groaned, slamming the pillow against his face. I raised an eyebrow at the male carbon copy of me who was beating himself up with a fluffy cushion. “I can’t believe I was so stupid to believe that she was actually ‘the one!’ What a horrible mistake!”

“You know, when girls usually see you for the first time, they don’t think you actually get into the relationship.” I crossed my arms over my chest as my brother tossed and turned on his bed. “I mean, why can’t you just let flings be flings?”

“Because the last time I let a ‘fling be a fling,’ it ended up all wrong.” Drake sighed. “I can’t even tell when to take a girl seriously. When I let it be, they get all clingy and gross. When I actually commit myself to the relationship, I get all clingy and gross.”

“Sucks to be you,” I replied, earning a death glare from a pair of dark blue eyes that creepily (in a not creepy way) matched my own.

“Easy for you to say, Callie, you’ve never been in love.” He stared directly into my eyes, and I obviously had nothing to say—because he was definitely right. I mean… I can’t help it if my heart was too hard to break into. I just don’t believe half—well, fine, all the stuff the few guys tell me. I can’t help it if I’m unappealing either.

“I’ve never been in love because one, nobody wants to fall in love with me, and two, nobody’s worth it.” I shrugged innocently and stared at my brother. “So, at the rate you’re going, you’re just going to get all the action for the both of us. Now quit playing your sob-story music and leave us all in peace.”

With that, I closed the door to his room and trotted back to my own. Easy for you to say, Callie, you’ve never been in love. Drake’s voice echoed in my head when I closed the door to my own room and stared at the messy pile of clothing on the floor. I scoffed and tossed the clothes into a hamper. “So what if I’ve never been in love? I have all the time in the world, don’t I?” I thought aloud, dropping my clothes outside with a thump.

“You wish you did,” I heard my brother yell from the next room. I rolled my eyes and rapped loudly on his door, before retreating once more to my own room. Once I finally got the mess out, it actually looked pretty decent. It had blue walls (Drake had green ones), with a bay window overlooking the backyard (which was actually a beach, thank you very much) and a comfy twin bed decorated with stuffed toys and a cute ocean blue comforter. On my dresser, pictures of me and my friends adorned the right side of the mirror while pictures of me, my mom, my dad and Drake were on the other. We were pretty much a small family in a huge beach house, but who’s complaining, right?

I sat on the seat that was by the bay window. You know those cool bench-like things with cushions and pillows so you can sit by the window and sketch the sea? Yeah, I have that in my room, except I don’t sketch. I usually play my guitar and write songs there, or contemplate about the deeper meaning of life. Okay, so maybe I was joking on the last part, but what the heck. I stared out at the sea and yawned, glancing at all the other people who wanted to stroll along the beach that afternoon. Hey, it was the last day of summer. I’m not surprised.

“Good afternoon, Callie dearest!” I suddenly heard my best friend in the whole wide world, Rose Spencer trot in. Rosie and I have been best friends since eighth grade when she moved in from New Mexico, and we just hit it off ever since. Now that we’re seniors, we’re pretty much like sisters already. That probably gave her the right to just bounce in my room without knocking.

“Hey Rosie,” I greeted, tilting my head from the window to see her flop on my computer chair with a bunch of magazines in hand. “What kind of foreign objects are you holding?”

“Oh shush, Callie, they’re magazines. I’m cutting out some parts to put for my new collage, and I wanted you to help me cut some.” Rosie tossed me some publications, and I eyed them with disgust as they flew onto my lap. I wasn’t really a magazine person if you haven’t noticed yet. I’d much rather read Harry Potter books (as a typical girl would) or some icky romance novels that still made me swoon whenever I read them.

“Rosie, what kind of stuff do you buy? 50 Ways of Faking an Orgasm?!” I shrieked, throwing it off my lap. Rosie sighed and rolled her eyes, before getting the magazine and flipping it to a page. I raised an eyebrow when she showed me the feature article of the magazine. “Oh god, Rosie. Elijah Pennington?”

“Isn’t he just the dreamiest teen star on the planet?” Rosie sighed dreamily. I scanned the picture of her ultimate crush and inwardly cringed. He wasn’t that bad looking really, but what the hell? Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect smile? It was just too good to be true, and I honestly preferred black-haired people—but I’m not discriminating blondes or anything, if that’s what any of you were thinking.

“Whatever, Rose. So what do you need the collage for anyway?” I asked, leaning back and starting to scan the articles for anything worth cutting. Rosie shrugged and tilted her head towards me, wrinkling her nose slightly.

“Am I hearing Boys Like Girls again? It’s been a month, Cal!” Rosie started snipping off huge bold letters from her own article. “Doesn’t Drake get tired of flirting, wooing and falling for other girls?”

“I personally think he should just stop dating for awhile.”

“Don’t deprive the boy, Callie. But… doesn’t he just wanna slow down a bit before scaring the girls off?”

“I highly doubt Drake has the ability to scare girls off,” I interjected, cutting off some more bold letters for her. “But… I don’t see why he needs a certain special someone, you know?”

“I get what you mean,” Rosie answered meaningfully, and I noticed she started snipping off more things harsher than she intended. “I just hope he fixes himself up a bit. Maybe he needs a break.”

“Hey, it is a new school year. Maybe he’ll come around.” And as Rosie and I continued to cut and sort some pictures for her collage, I really started to think about it. I mean, Drake and I had always been different when it came to approaching the opposite sex. I always preferred to stay away or just stay friends with them, but Drake felt that any girl could possibly be the one for him. I mean, I know there’s a saying about grasping the perfect opportunity, but I doubt every girl in sight was a perfect opportunity.

Oh well, like I said, it’s a new school year. I mean… what more can high school bring us except for lust, gossip and grades?