Page 1 of The Switched-Up Playbook
Xander, Freshman year, June 28th
There’s a click in my ear and then a cheerful jingle. Behind a glass wall someone holds up three fingers, two, one–
“And we’re back for one lastSlice of Campus Lifebefore summer. Whether you’re a techie Badger or a distinguished Bat, we hope you’ll have a great break! Today at College Radio 4 we welcome two of our most recent student-body celebrities. Here are Alexander Hart and Nicholas van der Hoff. Say hi, guys!”
I swallow and try to force my voice to come out steady, but I can barely hear myself through the thick headphones they have us wearing in the cramped studio.
“Hi,” I emit shakily, but the word has already left my mouth, so there’s nothing I can do to change my first impression. I still clear my throat, hoping to ease the way for the rest of the conversation.
Next to me, Van der Hoff nods, then he seems to remember that he actually needs to say something out loud since no one willseethis interview.
“Hello,” he manages.
The host gives both of us an encouraging smile. He’s a senior, as are most of the people sitting in the mixing booth behind the glass divider. I only recognize a few of them. No wonder, seeing as there are students from both universities: St. Bernard’s and Bonham Tech.
Even as a freshman, I haven’t felt this young in a while.
“So tell us a bit about yourselves,” the guy sitting across from us says cheerfully, and I heave a sigh. This feels like sitting in a circle at those get-togethers in the first week of college. It plucks on my nerves, but at least I have an answer prepared from all the other times I had to introduce myself: to my classmates, my roommates in the dorm, my new team.
“I’ll start?” I throw a glance over at the blond sitting next to me and receive only a one-shouldered shrug in response. I nod and continue: “Uh, okay...my name is Xander Hart, and I’m a freshman at St. Bernard’s. I moved here from Oregon and I’m–” I hesitate, drawing up my shoulders. “I study history.”
I turn to Van der Hoff next to me, giving him an encouraging smile. I hope I managed to break the ice for him.
“I’m Nicko and–”
“Oh, is that how you pronounce it?” The host interrupts, tilting his head curiously. “I thought it was Nico.”
“You’d be wrong then,” Van der Hoff says through gritted teeth. “It’s Nicko. Likekneeandoval.”
I tilt my head. It’s subtle, but the way Van der Hoff’s voice curls around the syllables does make it sound like two entirely different names.
“So I’m Nicko and I play hockey.”
The interviewer and I wait for a few blinks to see if he will continue with anything more substantial, but Van der Hoff just clenches his jaw.
I feel compelled to lean over and encourage him—because Nicholas van der Hoff has the same face as my best friend, Natevan der Hoff. I only see Nicholas when he’s visiting Nate in our cramped dorm room. Even with that limited insight into the second twin, I have come to realize that they’re very different people.
Whereas Nate would have had the entire studio in stitches with just a few sentences, his brother currently looks like he’s sitting at the dentist, getting his teeth pulled.
“And…and you’ve both been drafted to play for the New York Rebels, isn’t that right?” the interviewer finally asks to break the silence.
“Yes,” Van der Hoff dryly replies.
Surprised by his monosyllabic answers, I throw him another glance. Whenever Nicholas visits our dorm, he’s mostly quiet, but Nate always claims his brother is entirely different once you get to know him better, so I assumed he’d bring his A-game for the interview. Then again, I know Nate gets nervous before exams, chewing his fingernails down to the quick; maybe his twin is the same. I stretch out my leg to nudge him with my foot before leaning toward the mic.
“Yeah, once we’ve finished college, we’ll play in the NHL. I’ve been the twelfth overall draft. I play center, Van der Hoff plays right–”
“Left. I play left wing,” Hoff interrupts me, only to clam up again when I throw him a look, irritated that I have to find my flow again.
“We’re both really excited to have been picked. It’s a great opportunity to one day play for a team with so much history.”
“You’re rivals for now though. You play for the B-Tech Badgers, don’t you, Nicholas?” The host takes a moment to check the papers in front of him. He has a whole spreadsheet filled in with messy handwriting and colorful tabs. I wish I had taken him up on the offer to send me the questions beforehand.
“And I play for the St. Bernard Bats, that’s true,” I take the question when Van der Hoff merely nods. “But playing against each other can also teach you a lot abouthowsomeone plays.” I hope I sound diplomatic, because I have no idea what kind of playerthisVan der Hoff is.
I know Nate is a good player; he’s been my right wing since we both made the starting line-up of the Bats. Nicholas van der Hoff, though? No idea. While our teams face off regularly, I haven’t shared a lot of ice time with him. I don’t know if that will change when we’re playing on the same team. Where we’ll fit in, or whether they’ll even intend to use us.
It’s no question for me that I have to make it into the starting line. Hockey is an expensive sport, and I owe my success to my mothers, who moved heaven and earth so I could get to where I am today. I intend to pay them back tenfold.
