What He was Grateful For...

Patient note:

     Joseph has been attending mandatory counseling session for three months now. As it is November and close to Thanksgiving I will try to get him to open up to things he is grateful for.

I closed my file and looked up at Joe as he came in the door. Slunk in was more like it, shoulders hunched forward and a slightly sour expression on his face. I had tried calling him Joseph, but he adamantly refused to answer to it.

I watched with a carefully smooth expression as he took a seat across from me and folded his arms across his chest in a defensive way. I could tell today's session would not be an easy one. We continued to sit in silence a few moments as I watched him, and he watched me, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt.

"So Joe," I began, and I saw him tense automatically, "you have been coming to me for three months now." I could see him stifle a sigh and roll his eyes. I knew he would rather be anywhere than in therapy. All of them would rather be anywhere but here. "Tell me, do you think this is helping?"

Joe sat in stubborn silence, staring a hole into the carpet. I uncrossed and crossed my legs as I let him think.

"It will be Thanksgiving in a few days," I began again, "do you have any plans? Are you and the team going to get together?" I knew it would needle him, maybe enough to get him talking.

Joe's head jerked up at the mention of Thanksgiving and he looked at me, his clear eyes seemed to pin me to my chair.

"What on earth do I have to be grateful for?" he asked incredulously,  "What do any of us have to be grateful for? All of us except Steve have lost their family. We were recruited to this work without truly knowing what we were getting into. We get sent from hell hole to hell hole putting out fires around the world. For what? We put our lives on the line day in and day out for people who don't even know we exist. And David is dead. Tell me, councilor" his voice dripping with sarcasm  "just what do you think I should be grateful for?"

I looked at him for a long moment as he sat gripping the arms of the chair. "Can you think of nothing at all?" I asked quietly.

Joe seemed to look inwards for a while. Finally, though he seemed not to be aware that he was speaking, he said, "I'm grateful for Steve, Mark and Bryan. They are my family now."

I held back a sigh of relief at the words. "Anything else?" I quietly prodded.

"I'm grateful for my cat Kent. David let me keep him," Joe mumbled, his eyes moist, "I'm grateful for Jen, for all that she did for me after my brother died. I'm grateful for fast cars that help dull the pain. I'm grateful for..."

I sat quietly as Joe slowly began listing things he was grateful for.

Can I keep it 2

Can I Keep It?

(Original)

"He followed me home Sir," Joe said in response to his commanders questioning look. David had stopped Joe as he tried to walk quietly through the dining room and to his own room. He was holding a small ball of fluff and petting it gently with one finger.

Joe had tried to sneak it past his commander and into his room, hoping to keep the little creature a secret for a while. He held the kitten close to his chest, cupping it in both hands as if to protect it.

"Can I keep it Sir?" Joe asked in a small voice, his eyes large and pleading.

David stopped and carefully considered his answer before he gave it. He knew how hard their job was, how much it was important to having something to care about, something that cared about you. Cared unconditionally.

"Alright Joe," David said, "You can keep it."

#################################

The Mission: Get to my room.
Objective: Don't get caught.

I eased open the front door of our safe house with one hand and with the other carefully cradled my cargo. I knew the door would be noiseless but I wanted to make absolutely sure that no one knew I was there. The others were home, I could tell by the smell of Steve's cooking and the sound of Bryan and Mark watching the news in the front room.

I paused just after nudging the door closed behind me to listen. I couldn't quite tell if anyone was in the dining room, but I thought not. I paced closer towards the entrance to the dining room and the hall just beyond it. My room was the second on the left, the first belonged to Mark and Bryan, and the third was David and Joe. I shared my room with Steven, but I didn't think he would rat me out to David, even if he did find out.

I was just letting out the breath that I had been holding, thinking that I was home free when I heard someone clearing a throat behind me. I winced internally and turned to face the music.

David was sitting at the dining room table with schematics spread around him, working on the next mission. I looked at my commander and held the little kitten close to my body. I saw David raise an eyebrow at me in a silent request for an explanation for the little bit of fluff in my hands.

"He followed me home Sir," I muttered, dropping my gaze to the little creature as it sat purring in content. I petted it with one finger and the vibrations increased in volume and intensity as its little eyes closed. I looked up at my commander and I couldn't help the next words that came out of my mouth, "can I keep it Sir?

I held my breath as I watched him weighing his options and decision. I could almost see his choice in his eyes before he spoke, and I had to stop myself from hugging him.

"Alright Joe," David said to me with a small nod, "you can keep it."

Know what they say...

"Can you keep a secret Mark?"

I looked up from where I was studying my textbook. I pulled off my glasses and wiped them slowly on a piece of soft cloth, "of course I can," I said, "but you do know what they say."

"I have to tell someone or I'll go crazy," Sam said and leaned in closer.

I placed a marker in my text and turned my full attention towards Sam. He was practically jumping up and down. Sam was a journalist for a local newspaper.

"I heard about something big that is going down. I was looking into the recent death of Brock Tharen, the one that died of a heart attack, and I found a whole host of other unsolved, or mysterious deaths within the same two hundred mile radius," he said in a whisper, looking around briefly to see if we were being overheard. "I think that there is some sort of organization that is taking out these people. I figure it can't be one man," he said, 'too many deaths in too short a time.

I took off my glasses again and gave them another brief swipe with the cloth, "have you told anyone else about your suspicions?" I asked.

"No, I thought I could rely on your opinion," he said.

"Just as you should," I said with a smile and beckoned him to follow me, 'though you never did answer my question about secrets. Do you know what they say about them?"

"Not really," Sam said with a laugh.

"Two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead," I said. I wasn't laughing as a slipped a knife between his ribs.

Almost Got It

"Hurry up!" Joe urged, almost hopping up and down with impatience.

"You're not helping," Bryan replied as he wiped a sheen of sweat from his face.

"You realize that we could all die?" Joe said.

"Gee, I didn't know that Joe!" Bryan said, laying the sarcasm on thick, "it's not like I can't see the timer. This isn't as easy as it looks."

Joe started pacing back and forth as Bryan continued to work, literally humming with anxiety.

"I've almost got it," Bryan mumbled more to himself than to Joe.

Joe stopped pacing to watch his friend intently, "ten seconds he warned."

Bryan could hear the beeping of the timer and held his breath as it read 3...2...1

He let out and explosive breath and let his head drop into his hands, frustrated with his failure. "I can't believe I have to start the level all over again," he moaned and picked up the controller

Almost finished

"Don't you ever worry about deadlines?" Ariana asked as she filled in yet another line on yet another college application. She not only needed to finish fulling out the applications but also write up the required essays. She and David were applying for all the same schools and hoping that they were accepted to the same ones. She was holding out for an East coast school.

"Not really," David said. His own papers were all neatly filled out and sitting in a pile along with the essays; he was intent on addressing envelopes. "If you are prepared and start early then there is really no need to panic over deadlines."

Ariana knew that he was right and that she should get batter at prioritizing. She knew that she was smart; she just didn't like to think about deadlines. Didn't like to feel pressured. She laughed to herself, her lips twitching into a small grin, "you would think that as much as I don't like pressure that I would have had these done a while ago like you did."

David shrugged and leaned back, "everyone deals with stuff like this differently," he said and leaned over to give his girl a quick hug. "Are you almost finished?" he asked.

"Yeah. Almost finished," Ariana said and turned back to her forms.

Your Time is Up

Joe was ecstatic. Time had run out and he was ready to leave. He smiled to himself, Not only was he leaving behind this nightmare of a foster home but he had somewhere to go. Joe grabbed a few more things and placed them in a box.

As if sensing the end was near, Hal came bursting into the room. Joe could smell the booze on him and he wrinkled his nose in disgust at the putrid scent.

"Where do you think you're going?" the drunkard slurred in Joe's general direction, his eyes unable to focus very well.

"Shouldn't matter to you," Joe said. He could hardly stand the sight of the man let alone the smell.

"You don't turn eighteen until next week," Hal said as he approached Joe, his hand curling onto a fist, "until then, you stay."

Joe laughed, tears coming to his eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation, "you think you can make me stay? You think you can tell me what to do anymore? You think I'm going to stick around and let you try to ruin my life further? Though, heaven knows, the only think that you could do is make me sick from looking at you," Joe said in derision.

"I'll teach you a thing or two before you go," Hal threatened as he moved forward. He didn't see how Joe shifted his weight, hands held loosely by his side.

Before Hal could raise his fist Joe had struck quick as lighting, his own blow landing in Hal's spongy midsection, followed quickly by a vicious right cross to the face.

Hal stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, gripping his stomach in obvious agony. He looked up to see Joe standing over him and flinched back from the rage in his face.

"Your time is up Hal," Joe said and stepped over the prone man on the ground.

Simply Ask

"Time's getting short," Bryan taunted his brother, his tone almost sing-song in quality.

"Don't you think I know that!" Mark snarled back. His hands clenched and unclenched unconsciously as he paced back and forth in the room that they shared.

Bryan stood off to one side of the room and watched his twins restless pacing. "Seriously," he asked after a few minutes of the one man parade, "what is the big deal about this? It's not like it's the end of the world or anything."

"Easy for you to say," Mark muttered.

"What was that?" Bryan asked leaning forward.

"I said, that it's easy for you to say that. You've never had troubles with this sort of thing. It just comes easily for you," Mark said.

"Okay, seriously," Bryan said, "just go and ask her. I know you like her and she likes you, and the dance is in three days. And," Bryan stressed, "if you don't ask Katie now then somebody else might and then you lose out."

"You're right," Mark said and sat down on the edge of the bed, "but I just don't know what to say." He had heard all of the various girls around the school gushing about who had been asked and how and all the creativity that seemed to be an intrinsic part of the biggest dance of the year.

"How about, would you like to go to the dance with me?" Bryan suggested simply. He reclined on the bed with his hands crossed behind his head.

"I guess I should go and ask her then," Mark said.

"Now is as good a time as any," Bryan replied sagely and tossed his brother his cell phone.

Mark caught the phone and heard a quiet ringing coming from it followed by a faint, "hello?"

Mark raised the phone to his ear and swallowed hard, "Hi Katie, it's Mark...."

Know What it Takes?

"Come on Steve!" Bryan called down the hall, "are you ready to hit the club?"

"I can't come," Steve called back, adjusting his glasses with one hand while his other hand kept his place in the shuffle of papers on the desk.

"What!? Why not?" Bryan asked as he entered the room. He was dressed to go out. A slightly iridescent black shirt was paired with comfortable jeans.

Steven looked up from his paperwork, "because I have reports and paperwork to finish that are due next week. And they won't do themselves," he said calmly.

"Aw man, take the night off," Bryan wheedled, "you can get it done tomorrow."

"If I do that then I will get behind," Steve said as he turned back to his papers, "do you know what it takes to keep this unit running smoothly?"

Bryan thought about that for a moment, realizing that he didn't know exactly how everything got to where it needed to be and how they got their money, or paid their bills or received their supplies. He always assumed that some clerk in the military handled the logistics of the team.

"I guess not," Bryan finally said.

Steve nodded, more to himself than to Bryan and returned to his paperwork as Bryan left the room.

"I should be free on Friday night though!" he called to Bryan. He couldn't see Bryan's grin as he walked out the front door.

Any Good?

"What are you reading?" Hal asked, plopping down beside David. Hal was one of the few people that David would count as a friend in this school. One of the only people who would make the first move to initiate conversation.

David held up the slim novel, "Persuasion, by Jane Austen," he said.

Hal tried, but didn't succeed in suppressing a bubble of laughter. "Why on earth are you reading that?" he asked, merriment dancing in his eyes at the thought of his friend reading such a girly book.

"Just because you would never broaden your horizons doesn't mean the rest of us don't," David sniffed in mock disdain, "besides," he added and smiled a little, "it's one of Ariana's favorites."

"What's it about?" Hal asked, still clearly amused.

"It's about a military man who fell in love with a young girl. The young girl gave up the relationship when pressured by her family. They split up and he went to sea. He came back years later and this is the story of how they both cope with it. It's a story about waiting," David said.

"Is it any good?" Hal asked, his tone low, as if embarrassed to be caught asking.

"It's really good," David said, "I'll let you read it when I'm finished if you want," he continued, casting a sidelong glance at his friend.

Hal looked around quickly, "alright," he said, "if it's as good as you say then I'll check it out."

David smirked a little and returned to the story.

Moving Memories

"What are you looking for?" Jen asked as she watched Joe rummage through a tattered old moving box.

"Nothing in particular," he said, brushing dust from his cheek.

"What's in the box?" she asked leaning a little closer. She could see old papers, notebooks, and some odds and ends.

"It's just a bunch of stuff from the past," Joe mumbled, his voice muffled from his head being in the box as he dug deeper, "I haven't looking in this box in years."

Jen leaned against the last unpainted wall of the apartment, she was wearing white overalls and a pair of faded old sneakers. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and the rest was trapped by an old red bandanna. She held a paintbrush in one hand, letting her arms rest atop her knees.

"What made you decide to look in the box now?" Jen asked; she eyed the young man in curiosity.

Joe looked up at her and smiled, "because of the move, silly," he said. It had taken them a while to agree that they should get an apartment together and even longer before they found one that they liked. "Isn't that what people do when they move? They go through old boxes and relive the past, try to decide if they want to keep the stuff, realize the memories it brings back and decide to keep it though they will hardly ever look at it again,"

Joe's searching fingers had grasped a thin glossy book and pulled it from under the pile of papers. He smiled fondly at it as he thumbed through it. "I haven't seen or though of this book in years," he said.

"What book is that?" Jen asked looking over at him.

Joe stood up and crossed the room to sit beside her, "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day," Joe said, "Alec used to read it to me when we were young. Whenever I was having a bad day."

Jen glanced sideways to see if Joe was in pain, but was relieved to find only a fond smile tugging at his mouth. "Will you read it to me?" Jen asked.

Joe's smile widened and he flipped open the front cover. "I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair..."

Spoiled

Mark eagerly began the last chapter of his novel, Warbreaker. He had waited a while to savor this book until he had a little R&R and could take the time to really enjoy it fully. He could almost see it as if it were being played out in front of him. It was one of the reasons he loved to read. He could see it. He could rewind and replay a scene over and over again.

"Hey, I've read that one," Joe exclaimed as he wandered into the living room, "isn't it fantastic? I loved the ending, didn't you? I especially like the part where Vash defeats the bad guy at the end and the God-King is proven to be... Wasn't that a surprise?"

Mark looked up at Joe, his eyes flashing in anger. "It isn't a surprise anymore," Mark said flatly as he snapped the book closed, "do you know how long I've been waiting to read that?"

Joe swallowed hard, suddenly looking like he would rather be anywhere else than where he was. Joe slowly backed out of the room before turning and hurrying down the hall.

Mark growled in frustration and tossed the book aside. He hated a spoiled ending.

Speak-Easy

Mark couldn't remember how long it had been since he had played the piano. He ran his fingers across the dusty keys and picked out a few chords. The bench creaked as he sat down, his weight settling the ancient wood.

Only one or two keys were slightly out of tune as Mark tested them out, his fingers flowing across the ivory. Music flooded the room and it sounded like an entire jazz band era orchestra was coming from the old piano. A vision seemed to materialize from the notes that shimmered in the air.

One could picture a 1920s speak-easy, fedoras tilted at rakish angles and the air hazy with cigarette smoke. Low conversation punctuated by the soft clink of ice in glasses of illegally obtained booze. Smooth men in suits with smartly oiled hair played cards and transacted business deals. Women were resplendent in tight cocktail dresses, hair perfectly coiffed, faces painted up to look like perfect china dolls.

Servers in tuxedos ghosted through the room, collecting glasses and lighting cigars. A piano sat in the far corner of the lounge, a smartly dressed man in slacks and suspenders sat on the bench, coaxing popular tunes from the instrument.

With a final flourish, Mark raised his fingers from the keys and the vision of the speak-easy faded slowly into the dusty darkness.

Brother My Brother

Joe let his fingers lightly caress the strings as he hummed a wordless melody, his pitch perfectly harmonic to the chords he strummed. A ripple of sound rolled off six strings and echoed through the wooden body of the old guitar that Alec had left behind.

"I didn't know you played the guitar," David said as he poked his head into the den of their little apartment, his thoughts had been sidetracked when he had heard the quiet music.

"I don't really," Joe replied, "Just the chords that someone once taught me. I shuffle them around into different patterns, though it never comes out quite right."

David stepped out of the room, his mind returning to his paperwork when he was arrested in his thoughts again as Joe softly began to sing, his voice a rich tenor.

"Brother my brother
our time, it was so brief.
We laughed until our days were gone
And now we come to grief.

Time and again I remember when
We laughed until we cried.
And even though the memory is strong
It feels like I'm dying inside.

Your spirit whispers softly
urging me to carry on.
Still you keep me from falling,
Even now, when you are gone."

David hadn't noticed when tears had begun rolling down his cheeks.



(I am proud to say that I wrote those lyrics myself just for this piece.)

Beatbox

Steve sauntered down the hall towards his math class, headless of the looks that he got as he passed. He tapped rhythmicly on his thigh as his lips contorted, his voice forming the strangest sounds. For a moment it sounded like a snare drum to be followed by a base drum, a kick, some base, and various synth sounds, all of it tumbling from his lips in the most compelling patterns.

Steve leaned against the wall outside his class room as he continued to Beat box, his eyes closed and his fingers keeping time on the wall; increasing in tempo and complexity. He finished with a flourish of sounds and stepped into the room just as the bell rang, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Mama

"Hi mama," I said quietly as I knelt down in the cool grass of the late afternoon. I reached out and brushed a little bit of dirt from the smooth granite of the headstone; it was still a little warm from the sun.

"There are so many things I wanted to say to you," I began to talk to my mom, as if she were there, as if she could hear me. "Things that I never had a chance to say. Things that I didn't understand or couldn't express," my voice trailed off as memories came to the surface. Memories of good times, memories of how she had shaped my young life. Many of my memories flitted like insubstantial wisps, and others stood out in sharp detail.

"I know I probably never said it enough, but I love you. And I wanted to thank you," I paused, again assaulted by memories. "Mama thank you for who I am," I began, "thank you for all the things I'm not." I knew that because of her my job had a purpose. I was not like many of the others in the units who had little to no soul, who didn't care who they hurt and why.

"Mama remember all my life, you showed me love, You sacrificed. I think of those young and early days and how I've changed along the way," I continued to ramble on, just pouring my heart out. I felt tears begin to form, this day had been long in coming and now that it was here I found it hard to go on.

"I know you believed in me and I know you had dreams. And I'm sorry it took all this time for me to see; That I am where I am because of your truth. I miss you," I choked out, "I miss you."

I stood up on unsteady feet, "Everything that I am I owe to you, mama," I whispered and turned away.

I'm Bryan

Bryan straitened his tie nervously as he tapped Amanda on the shoulder. The dance was in full swing and he had been watching her for a few minutes from across the room. He swallowed in awe as Amanda turned to face him. She was in a floor length burgundy gown, a simple flowing design that accented her figure perfectly; her hair was curled and twisted into a simple up-do that left a few tendrils framing her face.

Amanda smiled brightly as she turned and saw Mark standing behind her. "Mark!" she said with surprise, "you came."

Bryan nodded mutely, looking for all the world as if he wanted to run.

"I'm glad you came," Amanda said as she looked him up and down with appreciation. He was in a black suit with a emerald green tie. She thought it was cute how he looked nervous.

"Would," Bryan had to clear his throat, "would you care to dance?"

Amanda smiled up at him, "I would love to," she said as she took his hand.

Bryan pulled her close and fell into an easy circling pattern as a slow song came over the speakers. He noted that she smelled of lilacs.

They danced in silence, but Amanda didn't mind the silence. It was nice not to have the pressure of finding a topic of conversation, to just enjoy dancing and being close to someone.

The song was over before Bryan worked up the nerve to say what he had to tell her.

"Thank you for the dance," Amanda said as she smiled at him. AS she turned to walk back towards the music Bryan reached out and took her hand.

Amanda looked down at his hand wrapped around hers and back up at him, a question clearly expressed in her eyes.

"Can I talk to you?" Bryan asked quietly.

"Okay." Amanda said.

Bryan guided her through the crowds of people to the edge of the room where it was quieter. "Now that you can hear me," Bryan said with a half smile, "I have something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" Amanda asked, her brow furrowing prettily in confusion.

Bryan drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not Mark," he said quietly, "I'm Bryan."

Amanda frowned a little, "I thought you were Mark. Then Mark didn't come?" she asked, "He said he wasn't planning on it, but I thought when I saw you that he had decided to come after all," she finished.

Bryan blinked slowly, "No, Amanda. Mark is at home. I'm Bryan."

"Yes, you said that. Is Mark not feeling well? Did he send you to keep me company?" Amanda asked.

Bryan reached out and touched a tendril of hair, "Amanda, you never knew Mark," Bryan said. He watched as the information sunk in.

"You're not Mark," she said as she took a step back.

"Look, I can explain," Bryan pleaded.

"Then please do so," Amanda said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Bryan took a breath and related the whole story. All the times that he and his twin had switched places. The mix up with Jason, and how as time went on he felt more and more like he couldn't tell her, that she would think that he had been purposely lying to her.

Amanda took in the whole story, listened intently to all he had to say. "So you are Bryan," she said at last.

Bryan nodded, "yes. I'm Bryan." He waited anxiously for her next words, watched as she thought through everything, saw in her eyes as she reached the end of her musings.

"So you can do more than 'dance a little.'" she said as her mouth twitched up into a grin.

Bryan let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding and smiled widely, "Yeah. I can do more than 'dance a little'," he echoed as he pulled her onto the dance floor.

Tell Her The Truth

"What's been eating you lately?" Mark asked as he flopped down next to his brother on the bed.

"Do you know Amanda?" Bryan asked.

"Which one? There are quite a few Amandas at school," Mark said rolling his eyes. He was sure it was just another of his brothers crushes. It would go away in about two weeks.

"Amanda Hollingworth."

"Oh." Mark was taken aback a little. Amanda Hollingworth was not Bryan's typical girl. Mark reviewed in his mind what he knew of her. Pretty, studious, a little on the quiet side but very nice.

"I don't know her well," Mark said at last, "mostly in passing. What makes you mention her?"

"Because she thinks I'm you," Bryan said as he sat up.

Mark puzzled over this for a moment, "why would she think that you are me? Not that people don't get us confused all the time, but how did you two meet and why would she think you're me?"

"Remember that Dance Committee that you were supposed to be on?"

"Yeah. I vaguely remember that. What has that got to do with it?"

"Well Jason grabbed me one day after school thinking I was you and dragged me off to the meeting. I wasn't really paying attention and I ended up on the music committee with Amanda. She thinks I'm you."

"I don't see how this is a problem. Just tell her that you're Bryan. I don't know her all that well anyway."

"What if she thinks I've been lying to her on purpose, having a laugh at her expense."

"And what if she doesn't?" Mark asked, "what if she realizes that it was a mistake and let's it go."

"Then how would you account for me not telling her before that I was really Bryan?"

Mark was silent for a moment. After a few seconds of thought he said, "look, do you like her?"

Bryan gave him his 'are you that dim' look.

"Then tell her the truth," Mark said. "You can't build any sort of relationship without trust. You have to trust that she will see the situation for what it is, and she will have to trust that you had no intention of deceiving her."

"You're right," Bryan said as he jumped off the bed and walked out of the room.

"Of course I'm right," Mark said to the empty room.

Not When it Matters

"So are you going to the dance with anyone?" Amanda asked as Bryan stood to go an hour later. She bit her lip a little nervously as she walked with him down the hall towards the front door.

"Bryan glanced at her quickly, trying to gauge how he should answer. "I hadn't really planned on it," he said. This much was true. He hadn't really planned on going with anyone.

"I'm sorry you won't be there," she said as she opened the door.

"Look Amanda..." Bryan said as he turned to look at her as he stepped out the front door.

"Hm?"

Bryan sighed, "Nothing. I'll see you tomorrow at school."

"Good night Mark," Amanda said to his retreating figure.

************************

Bryan sighed as he closed the front door of his own home and leaned against it.

"What's with you?" Mark asked as he paused in the entry, a sandwich in one hand.

"Sometimes I wish I was you," Bryan said quietly as he bumped his head against the door in frustration.

Mark looked at his brother funny, "You practically are me sometimes," he said.

"Not when it matters," Bryan said as he stepped away from the door.

A Little

Bryan paused before answering her question. She thought he was Mark, and Mark was known for one personality, while he himself was known for having one completely different. Did she know Mark? Know how Mark would respond? Did she prefer his quiet spoken brother or would she like his own more open demeanor? Would she even know the difference? He wanted to tell her that he was actually Bryan, but didn't know if she would think that he had been deceiving her on purpose instead of it just being a mistake.

Bryan bit his lip as he continued to hesitate, trying to gauge how he should reply.

Amanda cocked her head to one side as she waited for Mark's answer. He seemed a little lost in thought, so she let him think.

She had heard that his brother danced, and was very good, but she didn't know if Mark also danced. She didn't know what to think of the twins as a unit. Not much was generally known about them.

"Mark?" she said as she touched him gently on the shoulder.

Bryan blinked and focused on Amanda's face, "I dance a little," he said at last.

Do you Dance

Bryan sat on the floor; his knees pulled up to his chest, and his back pressed into a comfortable looking bed, eyes closed as he let the music swirl around him. It had a good driving beat, something that you could dance to.

"Are we just going to make CD mixes and switch out CDs or are we going to take requests?" a soft voice said from above him.

"I think it would be fun to take requests," Bryan said as he opened his eyes and craned his head around to see the girl that was lying on the bed above him. They had met at Amanda's house a few times since the committee meeting to listen to music and try to settle on what should be played at the dance.

"Well at any rate, we should have slow songs that everyone can dance to, but also songs that encourage people to have a little fun," Amanda said as she sat up. She looked over at Bryan, "Do you dance Mark?"