Death Match - Diane Duane [8]
“A certain elegance of execution,” Catie said. “One that looks like telepathy sometimes.”
Her brother looked at her with some surprise.
“Didn’t think I could appreciate the higher aspects of the game?” Catie said mildly. “Well, that’s okay. It’s healthy for you to underestimate me.”
He poked her in the ribs…or started to. Abruptly Catie wasn’t there anymore, having neatly sidestepped him as soon as he moved. A moment later she was sitting at the kitchen table, giving him an amused look. Her own skill at soccer had not left her entirely without abilities useful for dealing with a rogue brother…. Not that Hal needed a lot of dealing with, thank heaven. Their relationship was amiable enough, generally. And the resemblance between them was strong. They could have been twins. They should have been twins, Catie sometimes thought, except that Hal was always late, and had apparently managed this stunt even as regarded his birth, turning up a year after a proper twin would have. Regardless of the delay, Hal had come out about the same height as Catie, about the same weight, blonde and blue-eyed like her; and their general build and carriage were like enough that sometimes people mistook them for one another from a distance, especially in the winter when they were bundled up. This could have been a pain, except that Catie was continually amused at being mistakenly hailed as “Hallie” by her brother’s would-be girlfriends…and it gave Catie endless ammunition to use on him later, while doing her best to make sure that he never had the chance to do the same to her. The situation was entirely satisfactory, as far as she was concerned.
“How am I supposed to discipline you if you won’t stand still?” Hal said, getting one more glass of water.
“You’re not,” Catie said. “Learn to live with your sorry fate and like it.”
Her brother made a face eloquent of his opinion of such a philosophy. “You should see yourself,” Catie said. “If only you could get stuck that way, Dad could frame you and hang you as a fake Picasso.”
“Yeah, right. So, do you want to come watch the post-game show?”
“Can’t,” Catie said. “Got a Net Force Explorers meeting tonight.”
Her brother looked at her incredulously. “You sure that’s more important?”
“Yeah. And isn’t the postgame show on right now, anyway?”
Hal rolled his eyes. “What planet have you been living on? We get twenty minutes of commercials first. But they’re interviewing Brickner. I thought you’d want to see that.”
That made Catie pause for a moment. Insight into another athlete’s head was always welcome, especially after a game like that. But after a second’s thought she shook her head. “Naah,” Catie said. “Look, save it for me, okay? Just read it over to my Net space when you’re done.”
“I can’t get into your space.”
She smiled sweetly. “Which just proves you’ve been trying to again. Without asking.”
Hal gave her a rather cheesy but completely unrepentant grin.
“One of these days,” Catie said, “you’re gonna do something on the up-and-up and then be shocked to find that it worked better than making convoluted plans and plots and sneaking around.” Then Catie grinned. “But when that happens I’ll probably expire of shock, so don’t rush, okay? Just ask the space to let you in…it’ll make an exception for once.”
“Okay.”
He sounded unusually meek. Catie started wondering what he was up to. She went over to the sink, rinsed her glass out, and opened the dishwasher.
“I’m clean! I’m clean!” the dishwasher shrilled.
“That’s more than I can say,” Catie muttered, realizing afresh how sweaty even a virtual game of spatball had left her. Her T-shirt was sticking to her. She shut the dishwasher and put the glass aside on the counter. “I thought you were supposed to empty this thing all this week.”
“I was busy—”
“Get on with it,” Catie said. “If you hurry, I won’t have to tell Mom about it when she gets back.”
“And if you hurry, I won’t have to tell her you didn’t clean up the family room.”
Catie rolled her eyes. “Blackmail,” she said. “Empty threats. I need a shower.