Six. Six. Six. Six. Six. Six.
“Holy shit! Niko Costas!” A man stopped directly in front of him, holding a phone. “Can I get a selfie?”
“I’m AJ Costas, Niko is my twin brother.”Who is about to play the Red Sox in an hour, so why would he be in Langley, Virginia in full uniform on base?
AJ kept that last part to himself. He knew that if he said it out loud, the man might interpret it as rude, despite it being the truth, which he didn’t understand. Sometimes neurotypical people made zero sense to AJ. Actually, most of the time.
Six. Six. Six. Six. Six. Six.
“Can I still get that selfie?”
Again, that made zero sense to AJ. Why would this man want a photo with Niko Costas’ brother just because they shared the same DNA and looked alike. AJ wasn’t the star pitcher for the San Diego Waves.
As much as AJ wanted to say no, he knew that if he did, it would reflect poorly on his twin brother. So he tapped his middle finger against his palm and prepared himself as best he could for the man to put his arm around his shoulders, which had an 87.6% chance of happening.
It happened. The fan’s arm swung around the back of AJ’s neck. He tensed. Physical touch, especially from strangers, wasdeeply uncomfortable for AJ. The photo was taken, and the fan instructed AJ to tell his brother he was “The Shit.”
Six. Six. Six. Six. Six. Six.
AJ continued through the building, feeling his anxiety rising like the ocean level at high tide. He stepped out of the government offices and into the crisp fall Virginia day. Every sense was triggered at once. Cool air blew a distinct scent of manure. The late afternoon sun was blindingly bright. Sounds around him were amplified. The buzzing of the tree trimmer’s chainsaw sounded as if it was being broadcast through a loudspeaker directly next to his ear. The shrill of a car alarm going off sounded like he had headphones and they were playing it. As he continued his steady pace across the parking lot, he pulled out his Loop silicone earplugs and inserted them.
The second he slid the noise-canceling devices into his ear canal, he felt his body relax by five percent. His heart rate began to slow. The adrenaline spiking in his system began to level off. He managed a breath that wasn’t as shallow as a puddle after a light drizzle.
By the time he arrived at his car, his vision, which had fogged like a mirror from a hot shower, was beginning to clear. When he got inside the safety and cocoon of the truck’s cab, he turned his engine on. The low vibration thrum soothed him.
He’d been in the safety of the driver’s seat for no more than thirty seconds when his decompression was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. He opened his eyes and saw it was his little sister Frankie calling. He wasn’t up to speaking to anyone, but she rarely called, and she was his favorite person on the planet.
He picked up on the second ring. “Hey.”
“Hi, it’s Frankie,” she announced.
“I know.”
“How are you?”
AJ had never liked small talk. He didn’t understand it. But for the first time, he understood its purpose on an academic level. He wasn’t well. If he were the type of person who shared that information, this would be the time to do so. But there was truly no point. She did not have confidential security clearance, which she would need to have to discuss anything pertaining to the mission he’d just been on, which was the cause of the mini-panic attack he was experiencing.
“I’m…fine.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes.” AJneverlied, he didn’t see the point when the truth was so readily available. But in this case, his job required him to do so.
“Are you sure? You haven’t been, like, kidnapped by North Korean hackers, or decided to join a cult, or started drinking soda, or startedCrossFit?”
Niko and Frankie had started a joke between them that once people started doing CrossFit, they became obsessed, or indoctrinated, if you will. They only spoke about its benefits, including community, accountability, lifestyle enhancements, and strength and endurance training, as well as functionality and variety in exercises. They claimed that once someone began the training regimen it became their entire personality, and AJ had to agree. Once, when Niko was playing the Yankees and AJ was visiting his sister Frankie in New York, they held a mock memorial service for the friends they’d lost to the fitness craze.
AJ huffed a small laugh at his sister’s obvious joke. “No kidnapping. No cults. No soda.”
“So, itisCrossFit.”
“I go twice a day,” he teased back, feeling lighter just having spoken to Frankie.
Hearing her voice had a soothing effect on him. It always had. She’d been a constant in his life. The person who he knewhe could always count on, who loved him for him and never expected him to be anything but who he was. Frankie loved AJ unconditionally. It wasn’t that his mom, Niko, or grandmother, aka Yaya didn’t, it was just that he felt if they could change him at times, they would. They’d want him to be more demonstrative, emotional, talkative, or sporty. But not Frankie. She not only accepted him where he was at every second of every moment of his life, she celebrated it. She never made him feel less than or different. She just made him feel seen and loved.
Growing up hadn’t been the easiest for him. He always felt different. Despite being a twin, ninety percent of the time he felt alone.
Niko was outgoing and funny, and everyone loved him. His brother always wanted to include him, which he knew he did out of good intentions, but most of the time AJ didn’t want to be included. He didn’t want to play football in the grass that had just been cut when it smelled so strong and the sun was hot on his skin, causing him to sweat. He didn’t want to ride bikes when the seats were uncomfortable and the handles had tiny plastic lines that would create patterns on his palms. He didn’t want to play basketball and have to guard someone who was bumping up against him, his shoulder, his arms, and his legs.
