“In your own words.” I touched the tip of my tongue to my upper lip and tried for a synonym. “Science is an investigation.” It sounded like a question. “Science is an investigation,” Coach said, sanding his hands together. “Science requires us to transform into spies.” Put that way, science almost sounded fun. But I’d been in Coach’s class long enough not to get my hopes up. “Good sleuthing takes practice,” he continued. “So does sex,” came another back-of-the-room comment. We all bit back laughter while Coach pointed a warning finger at the offender. “That won’t be part of tonight’s homework.” Coach turned his attention back to me. “Nora, you’ve been sitting beside Vee since the beginning of the year.” I nodded but had a bad feeling about where this was going. “Both of you are on the school eZine together.” Again I nodded. “I bet you know quite a bit about each other.” Vee kicked my leg under our table. I knew what she was thinking. That he had no idea how much we knew about each other. And I don’t just mean the secrets we entomb in our diaries. Vee is my un-twin. She’s green-eyed, minky blond, and a few pounds over curvy. I’m a smoky-eyed brunette with volumes of curly hair that holds its own against even the best flatiron. And I’m all legs, like a bar stool. But there is an invisible thread that ties us together; both of us swear that tie began long before birth. Both of us swear it will continue to hold for the rest of our lives. Coach looked out at the class. “In fact, I’ll bet each of you knows the person sitting beside you well enough. You picked the seats you did for a reason, right? Familiarity. Too bad the best sleuths avoid familiarity. It dulls the investigative instinct. Which is why, today, we’re creating a new seating chart.” I opened my mouth to protest, but Vee beat me to it. “What the crap? It’s April. As in, it’s almost the end of the year. You can’t pull this kind of stuff now.” Coach hinted at a smile. “I can pull this stuff clear up to the last day of the semester.