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Chapter One
Jace
My life is picture perfect for anyone looking in from the outside. We have money, live on the wealthier side of town, and appear to be the all-American family with the proverbial white picket fence. But if you were to glimpse my actual life through the looking glass, hairline fractures become visible, spreading into full-on breaks in the bones of our family dynamics.
My twin sister, Jasmine, is the reason, but through no fault of her own. As long as I can remember, our mother’s played favorites, loving and doting on me, while treating Jasmine with disdain or as if she doesn’t exist. When we were kids, I thought it was unintentional, until I witnessed it for myself on our tenth birthday.
Unaware that I was hiding in the kitchen, our mother came in and tore into our housekeeper for writing both our names on our birthday cake. She evicted the housekeeper and purposely removed Jasmine’s name from the cake, leaving only mine. That was the last day I ever called her Mommy. From that day on, I’ve referred to her as Margret.
After everyone finished singing Happy Birthday, we leaned over to blow out our candles, and I watched Jasmine’s little face crumble and tears brim her eyes.
How was I so blind to her suffering?
Everyone noticed her missing name, but no one said a word, not even me. Her heart broke that day and I thought she’d never truly recover. But then, to my amazement, she tipped her chin up high and stormed through the hurt. Even then, she was the strongest of the two of us. I could never bring myself to tell her what I overheard that day, only trying to reassure that Margret must have forgotten. I decided then that I would become her protector. Our mother never wanted to fill that role, and our dad works too much to notice. I became Jasmine’s rock, one of the three people she counts on most. Me and our best friends, Marisol and Alex.
Now that I recognize the signs, Margret’s dislike for Jasmine can be traced as far back as when we were toddlers. She saw her as some kind of competition—a threat—when others commented on her beauty. Margret has to be the center of attention, and she’ll do anything to receive it, even if it means berating her own flesh and blood.
As we grew, so too did Jasmine’s beauty, angering Margret to the point of verbal abuse. She despises Jasmine and takes advantage of every opportunity to put her down, especially when I’m not around. I keep expecting Jasmine to crack under the pressure of having a mother like ours, but she’s still going strong.
Instead, she thrusts her frustrations and energy into volleyball and school. She and Alex—my best friend—have the highest GPAs in school. I can’t speak for her, but I consider myself lucky to have her as a twin. She makes me strive every day to be a better person.
When we started freshman year, I walked right onto our varsity basketball team—I’m that good. Now, one year later, I’m the most popular guy in school, and a certified chick magnet to boot. Of course, it helps to have a good wingman like Alex Navarro. With his dark skin and Mexican accent, he pulls chicks in left and right. We’re living a high schoolers wet dream.
Mostly, having every girl in school wanting to ride my dick is a bonus, but once in a while, we attract what Alex and I like to refer to as stage-five clingers.
My current stage-five is Molly Masters. This chick does not understand the words, give up. I swear, every time I turn around, she’s there. She dislikes my twin because we spend too much time together. She’sInsane. Even though Molly is one of the popular girls in school, with a rocking body and big rack, I wouldn’t touch her if she were the last person on earth. Alex and I also refer to her as the school bicycle; everyone’s had a ride, and I’m not into hitting a chick that’s been banged by most of the guys within a twenty-mile radius. Maybe she’ll get a clue, but I doubt it will be in my lifetime.
~~~~~
Coach killed us in basketball practice today, extending drills, and watching a couple of taped errors. Because of the delay, Jasmine accepted a ride from Marisol after school, causing anxiety to flood my system throughout practice. Marisol and Alex have lived next door for longer than I can remember, so I’m certain they’ve noticed Margret’s difference in treatment over the years.
Margret rips into Jasmine almost daily, escalating in intensity with each passing year, and with no end in sight. At this point, I’m not sure what to do. On top of her jealousy, she pops pills and drinks all day. Needless to say, she’s not in the running for mother of the year.
Staying close to Jasmine is the only way I can truly protect her. Margret still has this disturbing obsession with me. She’ll do anything I ask of her, including leaving my sister alone. The only problem with being Jasmine’s buffer is that when Margret catches her solo, it’s ten times worse. I’ll bitch at her about it afterward, but by that time, she’s already moved on to her next drink and goes to her room.
My phone screams through the rough material of my pants pocket as I reach into my car. Tossing my shit in the back, I dig it out and slide into the leather seats of my car. “Yeah?”
“What’s up,perdedor?” Alex laughs in my ear. Loser, my ass.
“Another brutal practice; just heading home now. Hey, did Jasmine get home all right?” I often worry that they’ll witness more than Jasmine wants them to. She tries so hard to keep what happens to her a secret, revealing it’s embarrassing, and forces my promise of silence.
“Yeah, Marisol came home about an hour ago.”
“Good. So, what’s up?”
“It’s Friday. What do you think’s up, güero?” He chuckles after calling me a white boy. For as long as he’s lived next door, Spanish is still foreign. No matter how many times he’s tried teaching me, it goes in one ear and out the other, but learning Spanish remains at the top of both my twin and I’s list of to-do’s.
“Where’re we going tonight?” Alex has the digs on everything and everyone. Lately, he’s been hanging with this guy, Carlos, from the rough side of the tracks. He’s in a gang, so I’m cautious of their friendship, but since Carlos isn’t pressuring Alex to join, we’re enjoying their legendary parties.
“Samantha’s. She’s supposed to have a few friends over.” Samantha’s in our math class and smoking hot.
Before I can commit to anything, I have to see what kind of shit storm I’ll be walking into at home. “I’ll let you know after I get home. Would you care if Jasmine came with us?” I don’t give a shit if he does. She’ll come anyway.
“Why does she always have to come? Isn’t it kind of weird to bring your sister with you when you hook up with chicks?”
“Because I like to have her around,” I say defensively.
“Sorry, amigo. I meant nothing by it. You know I like having her around. She’s funnier than shit.”
