When I woke up maybe an hour later- I wasn't sure- I watched in a daze as my brother floated into the air. 

At first, I thought he was dead. But then I realized if he was dead, Id have to be dead to see this- Which I didn't think was true, since everything was so loud. 

And it didn't really make sense that death should have a helicopter to take you to it. 

There was a dude dressed in a thin-looking coat and a very ugly hat- When he saw my eyes were open, he asked me if anything felt broken. 

Yes. Everything. But I didn't tell him that. I took a deep breath- then winced. 

"Bit of a sore chest," He muttered into his walkie-talkie, "He's probably only got a few bruises." Then I heard static as a reply was sent through. "He got off easy, then." 

"Just relax," The dude said, turning to me. "You'll be fine. You're awake, which most likely means you'll be able to walk away from this in a few days. That's better than your cousin up there." 

"How's..." I ignored that he'd said Jackson was my cousin. 

He grimaced. "His leg took some really bad damage. But we'll fix him up. A few nights in the hospital, and..." 

Something told me he was lying. But I'd take what I could get in the sugarcoating department since it didn't look like anyone had brought me a consolation donut. 

When it was my turn to get lifted like a heroic soldier into the helicopter, I got strapped onto a stretcher- It took about a minute for me to reach the warm insides of it, and I watched a minute later as the dude that had talked to me climbed in. 

My Dad sat off in the corner on his phone, holding one of Jackson's boots. A curtain was drawn between me and another section of the large helicopter- Where I heard rustling and hushed voices. 

I could make out only one of them. 

"How's the other one?" 

"He seems like he's got either a sore or broken rib, probably not though. Breathing fine. Maybe a mild concussion."

"So he got off scot-free."

"Pretty much." 

Then it turned nearly indiscernible. 

"Hey," I called out quietly to my Dad. He turned his head to me- Then stood and walked over. 

"How are you?" He asked gruffly.

"Okay. How long were we just laying there?"

"About ten minutes before we realized what had happened. Then we called 911 and they said they'd send the ambulance helicopter that was stationed less than two hours from here by car, but it got here in forty-ish minutes." 

I realized my Dad had been glaring at me the entire time he'd been speaking. 

"This your son as well?" One of the men on the helicopter asked, trailed by a skinnier man in a white lab coat- That one slipped through the curtain and started ordering people to do stuff. 

"Uh..." Dad looked me over. "Yes."

I froze, staring straight at the ceiling. He sounded so... disappointed. I let out a shaky breath. Sure. I'll help, Dad, I thought with a scowl- an internal scowl. Stupid Dad. 

I rolled my eyes at my father, but he practically had anger pouring out of his ears that I could see from my wiggly vision. (Just from the eye roll. Nothing else.)

"Ah," The man said. "Well. We will arrive at the hospital in Wax Valley in an hour and a half. Feel free to continue your rivalry but please do it quietly and in consideration of your sons." 

I'm going to stop here. That's all the background we need to know- And why my parents suddenly hated me even more. 

Six hours after the accident, we got the news that Jackson would need surgery on his leg- And immediately my parents sat me down in our living room. It was fifteen minutes after I'd gotten back- But I still would've liked some peace. 

"James," My mother called, peeking her head into my room. "I just got back from the resort. I had to stay to drive the car back- Did your Dad tell you?"

"Apparently he's my uncle," I growled. 

Mom sighed. "James. Come to the living room."

I glared at the floor, but stood up and pulled a blanket over my shoulders. I made sure to walk directly in front of my mother so she'd have to go slowly to not trip on the blanket that dragged behind me. I definitely got a stink eye for that. 

"Dad and I have your punishment ready," She said sharply, directing me to the couch. She sat in the armchair next to my father. 

"Punishment?" I gasped, "I broke a rib! Isn't that punishment enough?" 

No. I didn't break a rib, but I had to lay it on thick anyway. 

"You are costing us over a thousand dollars- Though that's just a low guess. And it's looking like Jackson can't make it to tryouts for his next school."

"What?" Jackson was moving schools to try out for a school team that would help him get college scholarships to a university Dad wanted him to go to, but it was- Insane. I knew any other family would console their broken sons, but this... 

"So, you're going to play hockey instead." 

"I can't. I'm not Jackson. I can't make my way up the hockey food chain before I'm eighteen and move out; And I definitely can't infiltrate a new school, illegally pretend to be him, and get onto that team!"

Mom shot me a glance before nodding at my father, who leaned forward. 

"Yes, you are." 

"Ugh!" I slumped back, wincing when a sharp burst of pain shot through my chest. "Ow. And, no, I'm not as good at Hockey-"

"No. You're Jackson now."

I gaped at my father. "What?" 

"You're his twin. You can pull off being him. You'll go to school, his new one, play the tournaments and make the selection. Jackson will be fine by then."  

I couldn't believe it. "No-" 

Dad stood so abruptly that it cut me off. "Yes. You get to go to an actual school now. Just like you've wanted. PVS 15 down at the west side of Wax Valley."

"Private Valley Shore," I translated. "That's where all the rich kids go! And we're not-"

"Don't worry about that. We have some friends on the inside. In two weeks, Jackson. Tryouts in four."

Six hours. That was it. All they'd needed to find a way to keep the promise of money coming in- My parents both had jobs, sure, if my mom selling random stuff on Etsy was a job, and Dad betting on Jackson when he won games. He had a job too, but the meager stuff he got from Jackson's games (way too much hype for a little league hockey team) made him really happy. 

"PVS 15 has grades six through twelve. The ninth-grade teachers there are really good." 

"I'm actually in tenth grade," I mumbled. I'd been homeschooled my whole life using internet classes, and I didn't have any friends, so last summer I'd done the entire ninth grade and started on tenth right away. I would have been done by now, but I was taking pretty much every math class tenth grade offered (besides the easy ones) and it was taking longer. 

"Maybe, but you need some peers your age." 

"Hanging around fifteen-year-old tenth graders is my age," I grumbled. 

"You're fourteen. And that wouldn't be fair to Jackson to have to live up to his brother the same age in a different grade."  

"Fifteen in two months! And you don't think I have to live up to his-" 

"End of discussion. You're going to spend the next two weeks showing Jackson how homeschooling works, then you're going to PVS 15 and getting the grades Jackson usually gets. Then you can swap back once Jackson is healed." 

I clenched my fists. Shouldn't be hard to slack off and get B's and C's instead of straight A's. But everything about this screamed, "Hey convenient other son, get us some money while the real prize gets fixed- Then he'll take over again so you can continue being annoying!" 

"He's NOT taking my classes for me," I demanded. 

But as I studied my parent's faces with a glare on my face, I realized they thought they could control me. 

And maybe they could. But not with everything. 

- I just realized I don't think I put his actual name in the story more than once. (His name is actually James btw) PLEASE comment feedback or thoughts! I'm having so much fun writing this! -SilverTree27