my twin sister, Charlie, shouted as I jogged across the beach to the lounge chair where she was sprawled out sipping a strawberry smoothie. Before you get the wrong impression of me, let me tell you right off that I am not a major jogger. In fact, the only thing I hate more than jogging is running. And the only thing I hate more than running is running fast. I think you get the point. But my dad has me on his super-duper “shape up, slim down” program for our next tennis tournament. (Oh, did I mention that Charlie and I are ranked doubles tennis players? Well, we are.) Anyway, if I take a daily run, my dad, who is also our coach, lets me have fries on the weekend. I’d say that’s worth a twenty-minute jog. “What boys are you talking about?” I asked, grabbing the smoothie from Charlie’s hand and taking a giant slurp. “Ouch. Brain freeze.” “Press your thumb against the roof of your mouth,” Charlie suggested.
