A I D E N.
I walked past Easton, who was strumming some chords on his guitar. Daxton was on the other couch, hastily drawing on his sketchpad. He had his glasses on, something he almost never wears unless he wanted to look at something from a distance. They looked like they had gotten into another fight--- again. I sighed under my breath, remembering that I used to be part of the other set of twins that acted that way sometimes. But Easton and Daxton's problem wasn't exactly a monthly argument like mine and hers usually was. But it was now almost day to day from what Bray tells me.
I'd have to talk to them later. But now, I am going to face my biggest fear and let go of the past. I need to if I want to be happy.
