Hey! This is a book my friend Becca (secretagent101) and I are currently working on. I write in the view of Phoebe and Becca writes in the view of Erin. We hope you enjoy this as much as we enjoy writing it. Thanks! And please don't forget to drop us a review!

Chapter One

Phoebe

"Because Helen was being bad so she had to refill the water pitcher and Annie held her hand under the pump and kept spelling water into her hand. That was where she learned her first word, where she understood that water meant the cool stuff rushing over her hand," Erin explained. Her voice droned on and on as we sat on the wooden front porch swing of our home. I rested my elbow on the arm on the swing and let my headrest on the palm of my hand. "That's where she understood that every word meant a object. Water or ground, she could spell them but she didn't know what she was spelling. Not until that day at the pump, she calls that 'the birthday of my soul."
" That's all very interesting," I lied and paused. "But Erin."
" Yeah?" she asked.
" I don't care," I yelled loudly and slowly. Erin looked taken aback at my harshness. Her blue eyes looked upset and confused. I immediately felt bad, "sorry."
" It's okay, I just thought you cared," Erin simply said. I rolled my eyes and bit my tongue to stop myself from saying another bitter word. Erin's shoulder length blond hair was thrown back into a ponytail due to the extreme heat of the June afternoon in our Alabama town.
I fanned myself with my hand. "I really want to go swimming."
" Yeah, to the pool," Erin said with a grin.
" More like the beach," I dreamed aloud. Erin laughed and hit my arm. "Ow!"
" Oops, sorry," she apologized. I rubbed my lobster red baked arm. I had been out on the dirt bikes with my older brother and his friends all day and had gotten badly sun burnt.
" Kids! Dinner is ready!" my Mom called from the kitchen window. I sighed and stood up; I was actually relieved, because I didn't know if I could take any more of Erin's Helen Keller information. I swear she could write a biography on the woman.
Erin and I walked into my home and headed for the kitchen. My home was an older home from the early 1900's. Our old next-door neighbor's father had actually designed and built all the houses on our street. The house isn't too big. It has four bedrooms, one and a half bath, the standard living room, kitchen, and bathroom, and then a full attic, and unfinished basement. The walls are of an ugly color, especially in the kitchen. It's an old seventies type of yellow with kettle print, I always tease my Mom and tell her that she had no sense of style when she re-did the house when her and my father bought it.
My mom is a rather lovely lady, in personality and looks. She is of a medium height, about 5'5, she has blond hair and hazel eyes, and she has a voluptuous figure. When she was younger she was very, very slender but as she grew older she got more of a curvy figure. My Mom is awesome; she is very understanding and very loving. She always knows when something is wrong and is always there with open arms and advice. Before my sister and I were born my mother was a teacher at the local elementary school, but now she owns a small bridal shop on Main Street.
My father is a very kind and generous man. He doesn't have a mean bone in his body, except he isn't very good at showing his emotions. He keeps things bottled up, as I do, and he isn't too quick with advice. He seemed great and always there when I was younger, and maybe he was, maybe teenagers aren't his specialty. I'll never know. All I know is the tension with my brother and him started when my brother was fifteen and thought he could take him down. The tension between Dad and me started when I got my first bra. He never trusts me and I hate it. Dad owns a bar on Main Street about five stores down from my mother. Dad is about 5'7, and he has thick curly brown hair and blue eyes.
Next in line is my older brother, Josh. Josh is very tall, almost six feet tall! He has my Dad's thick brown hair, but he has my mother's hazel eyes. He is quite the lady's man at school. All the girls love him. Some days I can see why, Josh can be such a gentleman and so sweet, but other days I think girls at school are insane because I think he's an obnoxious pig. He's a year older than my sister and I, and is definitely a great big brother, except he can be too overprotective. Josh and I have always been close, because as a little girl I was always a huge tomboy.
As if you haven't figured it out by now, Erin and I are twins. Our birthday is April 14. We both have blond hair; the only difference is mine is longer by an inch or two. We both have blue eyes, and we're both exactly 5'4. A major difference between the two of us is that I have more of an athletic build than Erin. Erin is a very slender, thin, pretty girl. I'm more of the muscular one; I play a lot of sports in school. Softball, soccer, field hockey, I even use to play tennis but I couldn't keep up. Erin and I may be twins but we're totally different people. For example, Erin is an introvert, while I'm more of an extrovert. She wears her emotions on her sleeve, while I tend to bottle everything up and then explode. She's very involved with chorus and singing (she sounds as beautiful as an angel), while I'd much rather kick a ball in the field or play the guitar. She's very into youth group and church, while I attend church and believe in God but find youth group a waste of time. She loves to read about teen romance and teen issues, I love reading about the mafia. It's just stupid little things like that which make Erin and I so different. We hang out in school with totally different people, yet underneath it all, we're still best friends. I love her with every bone in my body, and I know she loves me too. We're not freaks, we do fight, and we do have some vicious fights, but by the end of the day we're usually pals again. Even if I couldn't stand to look at her, if I see her crying or upset because of someone, I'd beat the person up. That's just the connection we have.
We all settled down at the dinner table. My mouth watered at the sight of my mother's homemade fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. It was one of my favorite meals.
" Someone say grace?" Dad asked. I kept my head down; I hate having to say grace. My whole family is very religious; it's kind of annoying. I love going to my friend's houses where they just eat without stopping and saying grace.
" I will," Erin volunteered.
" I will," Josh mocked. I began to laugh.
" Joshua, stop it," Dad scolded. Mom shot Josh and me a look. "You think saying grace is funny? Fine, Phoebe, you say grace!"
" Aw, Dad," I whined and stomped my foot. "Why?"
" Just do it," Dad boomed. Everyone at the table jolted at Dad's deep voice and I bowed my head.
" Dear God, thanks for the grub, Amen," I said quickly. Erin elbowed me in the side, and Josh snorted to hold back his laughter.
" That's it Phoebe! I've had enough! Go to your room!" Dad shouted angrily.
" Hey!" I protested. "I said grace!"
" Before I smack you for being disrespectful to our Lord and me, go to your room!" he ordered. I rolled my eyes and got up from my chair, pushing it back in brusquely. As I walked up the stairs I made sure to stomp my feet loudly, and then slam my bedroom door shut.
I jumped on my twin bed and looked out the window. My window was open and my white curtains were blowing lightly in the cool summer breeze. The sky was becoming ominous looking and giant black clouds were rolling in. It was going to be another thunderstorm; we had almost had a thunderstorm every night of the week that week. Soon the sky opened up and it began to pour. I kept watching out my window looking for lightening.
I began to have terrible pains in my lower abdomen, and I keeled over on my bed, clutching my stomach.
" Ow," I moaned quietly.
I had begun to have these pains the week before, and at first it didn't concern me. I blew them off to be PMS cramps. But by that Wednesday night I was already late for my period by five days. It didn't make sense. I kept figuring that I was just late. I mean it happens. But five days late? Five days late and I was still having horrible cramps. I began to wonder. I'll be honest right here and right now; I'm not a virgin. I had never told anyone except my closest best friend Lizzie about me having sex. My boyfriend and I then broke up after he had to move to Canada. That was the only person I had ever done "it" with. I realized that the last time I had done "it" was about month and a half before, and I started to worry.
The door opened and Erin stood there with a small Tupperware container. She walked over and handed it to me. I opened it. There was a piece of chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. She handed me a fork.

" Dad was being very irrational," she laughed.
" Thanks," I smiled.
" I'm gonna go. Dad said, 'don't you even dare go talk to her," she said mimicking Dad. I laughed. Erin turned around and headed out of the room.
" Erin," I quietly said. I wanted to tell her about my problem, that I was worried about being late. But I looked at her and couldn't. Erin was too innocent. Plus it was almost the fourth of July. The town always has a big fair for the fourth. And I knew Erin, if she thought I might be pregnant, she'd be worried and then blab it to Mom or Dad and I'd end up being locked up in my room for the fair.
" Yeah?" she asked.
" Never mind, thanks for the chicken," I said nicely. Erin laughed and left the room, closing the door behind her. I happily ate my meal, deciding to once again, put off my pains.