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Chapter Five
Jace
My insides are twisted and tied in knots, knowing something’s wrong before I’m inside my car and heading home. My twin senses are tingling, creating an elasticity that wants to snap me toward Jasmine. Coach made me stay after for being five minutes late to yesterday’s practice; not that I could help the fact that our science teacher takes the word lecture to an entirely different level. Who cares if we have a giant test coming, no one wants to stay after the bell to hear her final thoughts. If I’d told Coach the real reason, he’d have let me. He would have also called child protective services, and there’s no way they’re getting involved in our lives.
The entire drive home, I remind myself that there’s a speed limit for a reason, especially in school zones. Jasmine text me earlier in the day, letting me know she was going out with Mare for ice cream. I’m relieved that she’ll be out of the house most of the day while I’m gone. She promised to text me again when she returned, but I didn’t receive the secondary update, meaning there’s a reason behind the missing notification.
When I whip my car into the driveway, I’m in such a panic that I leave my gear and stinky clothes in the car, slamming the front door closed behind me. The house is eerily quiet and instantly sets me on edge as I take the stairs two at a time, and rush down the hall until I’m standing outside my twins’ door. Each bound upstairs corresponds with my heart pounding and lurching into my throat, terrified what I’ll find.
I don’t bother knocking, knowing she’d have heard me, if not sensed me charging toward her room. It’d be quieter if a herd of elephants were running through the house.
My eyes scan the room, instantly locking onto her slight frame, quietly sitting on the perch next to her window, tracing patterns across the fogged glass.
“Jaz?” My voice is soft, approaching cautiously, as if she were a wounded animal that may attack at any moment.
“I’m okay,” she whispers back. She tries to smile over her shoulder, but the sadness pulls the corners of her lips down. She’s being strong for me.
“What happened this time?” The nook of her window seat is where we’d come up with the best stories when we were little, the memory floating to me as I sit next to her, both of us barely fitting on the cushions now.
“Same as always. At least I could make it inside this time, even though she had to shove me pretty hard to get me there.” Her eyebrows dip in concentration, eyes shining with emotion. My twin is the strongest person I know. “She called me a pig. I embarrass her by my appearance, and that you’re better than me in every way. Not in so many words, but enough to get her point across.” She takes a deep breath and regains her composure, swallowing the lump building in her throat.
“No more,” I tell her. “You’re not coming home alone anymore. This is getting out of hand. Something needs to be done.”
“It’s fine.” She waves me off, like our mom’s verbal abuse over the years was nothing of notice, even though each episode was increasing in intensity. “We don’t have much longer before we’re away at college and start our own lives.” Hope glitters with her tears when she looks at me for the first time since sitting down.
My fingers clench hers as I grab her hand, pulling her toward me, and touching our forehead together. “You and me against the world.” Jasmine’s an extension of my being, the other half of my soul, a born-with-me best friend. When she hurts, I hurt. My life would turn black and gray without her light. Instead of getting pissed and raging at our mom who doesn’t give a shit about anything other than her drink, pills, and friends, I take a deep breath and offer what I can. “Do you want to hang out tonight? I was thinking we could stay in and watch movies, maybe invite Alex and Marisol.”
“That sounds great.” But there’s none of the normal excitement when I offer movie nights. She’s agreeing to placate me; to make me feel better when she should look out for herself.
“Are you sure? Was Mare with you again? She’s going to ask questions; you know that right.”
She nods. “She was by her car when Margret came outside. I don’t know how much she heard, but I’m sure it was enough. I’ll have to talk to her at some point.” She shrugs, like our biggest secret getting out wasn’t a cluster-fuck.
“Okay.” I grab my phone and make the call to Alex while snagging my sister’s hand. At this point, I don’t know if the contact is a comfort for her or me.
“Sí?” Alex answers gruffly after a couple rings.
“Hey, I decided not to go out tonight. I’m going to stay home with Jasmine, but you’re both welcome to come watch a couple movies with us.”
It’s silent for a moment. “Marisol said somemierda about your mom. Is that true?” Concern laces his tone as he asks.
“Yeah,” I breathe out, glancing at Jasmine. She knows what we’re talking about because she tucks her head, cheeks blazing red with embarrassment, and a single tear trickle downs her cheek. She wipes it away, hoping to hide it from me. Without breaking the conversation, I pull her against my chest, allowing her to seek comfort. She hates showing any form of weakness, even in front of me.
“That’s messed up.” He growls. “What time do you want us over?”
“Six work for you?” Margret should be passed out by then, giving us the freedom to have friends over. We’ll keep the door locked just in case, but Margret never bothers us in my room.
“Alright, hermano. We’ll be there.” Alex sounds determined, and a lot pissed off.
My phone’s tossed to the seat between us. “There, it’s settled. Movies with Alex and Marisol at six. You want to order pizza?” I ply her with food, nudging her with my shoulder and raising my eyebrows up and down suggestively. “Come on, you know you want to.”
Finally, she laughs. The sound is like music to my ears, especially when her eyes light up like azure gems. “All right.”
“Good. Now hope in the shower. It will make you feel better. Plus, this face could use a good washing,” I laugh and annoyingly run my fingers down her face.
She pushes my shoulder in protest, shoving me from my seat. “Thanks, asshole.” She punctuates her statement by throwing my phone at me.
Cat-like reflexes possess my fingers as they snag the device from the air, stopping it from hitting my face, and taunt her. “Skills, remember?”
