People adopted for one of two reasons: either they were devoutly religious, and felt like every orphaned child was their personal responsibility, or they couldn't have children of their own. My parents didn't fall into either of those two categories, and I never understood why they adopted me, or Jacob, for that matter. They had the classic, white American family before we came along. Two kids, two years apart, a boy and a girl. From the outside looking in, they must've seemed perfect. Most people didn't know about the issues in Tucker's personal life until the accident. He was on the baseball and the football team, and Rowan was a cheerleader. She hadn't come out yet, either. There was nothing unusual or particularly interesting about either of them, or my parents. My dad was a coach, my mom owned a trophy business as a hobby, and to earn a little extra money on the side. She's always been talkative and sociable, so all the other women in the neighborhood loved her. My dad won awards for coaching little league at the park. They had been married for fifteen years.

They took two shots in the dark, by trying to adopt Jacob and I. Both adoptions could've fallen through, since Jacob's adoption involved another country's government, and mine involved the court system. I don't know which is worse, but both are pretty bad. The process to get by biological, abuse mom deemed unfit for parenting took a year and a half. It didn't mean anything to me, because I don't remember it, but what if I had been thirteen instead of thirteen months? That was something I thought about, probably more than I should've.

Adopting was like entering the lottery, except if their was a prize you could win for the lottery that you didn't want. They lucked out with Jacob. He was incredibly smart. Even from the time he was young, my parents said they could tell he was a precocious child. They never said that about me, and I had to ask what the word precocious meant.

So he was smart, attractive, and played the piano. He was better at it than I was, and that was the thing I considered myself best at. His style was more classical than mine. He entered state-wide competitions and won. His shelf by his bed was stocked with trophies, and their were more from years ago, that had already been put into storage.

Parents say that high school doesn't matter, that they'll be proud if you apply yourself. That's a lie, because every parent secretly wants to see their child accepted by everyone else. Jacob's popularity only added to his overall success, whereas my lack of friends beyond Ricky wasn't really surprising to anyone.

My dad told me a lot of things when I was growing up, most of which I try to forget, but I will always remember one piece of advice. He said to me, "you don't have to be fast, you just have to be faster than your friends." Another reason I was never friends with Jacob: I knew I couldn't be faster than him. I could be faster than someone than Ricky, though. That was hardly a challenge. He didn't expect anything from me, and I didn't expect anything from him, except to give overly calculated, cliche ridden, idiotic advice.

So one night I was explaining all this to Penny , when I was lying on my thrift store mattress, with all my essential items next to me: 1. My headphones 2. A copy of The View From Saturday, which I was reading for a book report, but trying not to think too much about 3. Two mechanical pencils 4. My phone, with the shattered screen.

And on that phone with the shattered screen it said 1.42, Penny Shapiro, because I had been talking to Penny Shapiro for an hour and forty-two minutes, exactly.

"Okay, so just now, Garrett asked me to send him something because he was somewhere without wifi. And I was like, 'where are you, the 17th century?'"

"You're so stupid, but it's so cute," I told her.

"Umm okay, I'll guess I'll take that." She was smiling, though. I could hear her smile in her voice.

"Just take it," I laughed. "Well, no, not like that. Whatever, you know how I mean it."

"You might just want to stop talking now." If I was smart, I would've.

"I'm such an idiot."

"You're such an idiot but you're soo cute," she said, emphasizing "so" in such a way that I knew she was imitating me.

"Aww thanks, you're nice than my parents."

"Yeah, your parents probably just stop at, 'you're such an idiot.'"

"No, they stop at 'you're such an idiot, and a loser, goodnight,stupid."

"Oh cool, I'll have to start saying the opposite to you before I go to bed."

"You're so smart, and a good person. Goodnight, genius!"

"Please do it so that way I can say goodnight idiot to you. And hey, were you serious about the glasses remark today? Or no? I'm getting glasses like Garrett's but mine are more squared and a tad bit bigger."

"You're not allowed to say goodnight idiot to me, that's not how this works. Only I get to insult you."

"No, we create a bond by insulting each other."

"And yeah well, I mean, you're going to look stupid with glasses, but you're also going to look stupid if you keep squinting and dragging your desk ten feet forward."

"I hate you."

"No you don't. You like me."

"Oh, you caught me. I do like you."

"That's embarrassing."

"Yeah, I know!"

"And I guess your dumb face is okay... sometimes."

"Your stupid face is decent, sometimes."

"You can't steal my joke and rephrase it."

"I just did, what are you going to do about it?" She didn't respond immediately, so I saw my opportunity to ask her something I had been wondering for a while.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Go for it."

"Do you like me?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"It's a question I want to know the answer to."

"What do you think?"

"I think you hate me to the core."

"You're such an idiot, and a loser... goodnight stupid!"

"Goodnight idiot!"

"Hey, by the way, the only reason you're an idiot is because for some reason you can't see how much I like you."

"I can, I just wanted you to tell me."

"I'm sorry, I thought I made it clear earlier when I said, 'your dumb face is okay sometimes.'"

"Wow, you must like me a lot."

"Just a normal amount, so sit down."

"What happened to goodnight? Can't sleep?" I teased her.

"No, I'm going to sleep now." No matter what she was doing, Penny dropped down and fell asleep at 10:30. "I just had to see what you said to me in case you rejected my affections."

"No, I like you and your affections."

"Awesome, because you've got them both."

"Awesome," I smiled, too preoccupied with my own good fortune to think of another word. "I'm glad."

"You're so smart... and a cool person. Goodnight, genius."

"Goodnight, beautiful."