CHAPTER ONE

ELENA

I heave a sigh as I cross the threshold of my parents front door, lugging my suitcase behind me. This is the fourth time I am moving back home. Only this time, there is a possibility that it might be for good. I'm fresh out of a three year relationship. Aiden broke up with me over the phone. He had gone to visit his "family" and apparently reconnected with an old flame. Yeah. I'm still recovering from a burn. We ended the lease on our apartment. Aiden now lives with said flame in his hometown and I'm here.

I glance into the living room doorway, listening carefully for any voices. I immediately recognize the voice of my sixteen year old sister, Yessenia. As per usual, she is complaining to my mother about not having something to wear to a party. I shake my head and close the front door. Loudly, I might add.

"Carlos?" Momma calls my father's name from wherever she is, and suddenly appears in the foyer. "Elena, mija!"

"Hola Mami," I say with a weak smile as she pulls me into a tight hug.

"So, you're home now?" she asks softly as she pulls away and gives me her very Mom-look. "You've been bringing your things here for a few weeks now."

"Estoy en casa, Mami," I reply, nodding. "I need to get back on my feet . . . but I can't do that alone right now."

"Take all the time you need, mija. I know what you're going through . . . Vamos; back me up and show your sister that the outfit she is wearing is not appropriate."

Momma hooks my arm as if we're girlfriends and brings me through the living room to the kitchen. Yessenia rolls her eyes when she sees me. I sigh, frowning at her. Before she started high school, we were really close. But then, she climbed the popularity ladder and no longer thinks I am worth her time.

I take in what Yessenia is wearing and scrunch my nose. Her black skirt is way too short, barely reaching the middle of her thighs. Her shirt is very booby and skimpy, revealing very large amounts of her skin in more than just her cleavage. And thought I love the black knee-high, lace boots, she looks like a skank.

"Hell no," I say, waving my finger up and down at Yessenia. "Te pareces como una puta."

Yessenia, obviously offended, scoffs and starts shouting at me in Spanish. We've only lived in Houston, Texas, for about eight years. We're originally from Costa Rica, so English is our second language. We learned English in school and watching television, as did my parents. That was before my family moved.

Yessenia stomps out of the kitchen, still shouting some very unladylike Spanish words. Momma sighs and moves towards the stove to check on some large pot of whatever she is cooking.

"Tu gemelo vuelve hoy," she says, glancing at me over her shoulder. "He'll be so happy to see you."

"Jose is coming home?" I ask, my voice rising an octave as my heart accelerates in my chest.

Jose is my twin brother, older than me by forty-five minutes. He left for the marines fresh outta high school. I have not been home in some time, and a couple years ago, Jose came to visit. I wasn't here. And I have felt terrible about it. I miss my brother.

"Yes," Momma says with a smile. "Jose called a few weeks back to tell us. He was going to surprise you . . . Don't tell him I told you. You have to act surprised."

"I will be surprised," I say, smiling. "I'll have the proper amount of emotion and excitement, creeme."

A deep voice tickles my ear as a pair of hands cover my eyes, "Is that so?"

I touch the hand, grinning. A soft chuckle fills the air and suddenly, I'm crying.

"Bruto, I missed you!" I say, sniffling as the hands move to my shoulders to turn me around. My gaze rises to that of my brother. Jose grins and pulls me into a hug. I'm not very tall, only about average height. Jose seems much taller than when he left.

"Te cortaste el pelo," I whine, reaching a hand up to rub the short crewcut Jose is sporting. "Dude! I liked your long hair!"

"Nena!" Jose chuckles and pulls away to give me a good look. "You look . . . beautiful, like always . . . Hay algo que me deseas desir?"

"How long were you standing behind me?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

Shrugging, he replies, "I just appeared right when Mami told you to be surprised."

I sigh, "Hermano, we have a lot to catch up on."

Jose slings his arm around my shoulders and leads me to the back door. We walk out to the yard, to the old clubhouse our dad made when we were kids. We hunch into the five-by-five space and sit across from each other.

"Hablame Elena," Jose says gently, tilting his head to the side as he stares at me with his dark hazel eyes. "Something is wrong, I can always tell. Tiene algo de ser con ese novio?"

"Ex-boyfriend," I tell him in a soft voice. "Me dejo por otra."

"Ah, I see . . . Yo te dije que no era buena gente. You remember?"

"I know you did . . . But you know me."

Jose smiles, "I do know you. Always looking for the good in everyone. Tu tienes una problema, hermana."

I roll my eyes, but I don't refute. Jose is right. I do have that problem. Always hoping for the good in people, so much that I get hurt in the process. Every time.

"Que hago, hermano?" I ask, hugging myself. "What do I do now? I'm moving back home at twenty-five . . ."

"What do you make of me then?" Jose says, a hint of joking in his tone. "I've nowhere to live right now. I'm home too."

"Your reasons are far better than mine."

"Hermana . . . There is nothing wrong with living at home. Maybe . . . maybe it's not time for you to be on your own."

I scrunch my face and glance out the tiny window to the back of my parents' house. In all honesty, I do miss being home. I miss not having to worry about bills, working a job . . . and broken hearts.

"Mira," Jose says, scooting forward as he makes me look at him. "Forget about everything else for now. Estas en casa. Disfrutelo. Take a deep breath and let the trouble disappear."

I close my eyes and do as he says. When we were younger, Jose always knew how to help me calm down. I inhale and exhale several times. My body relaxes, which makes me aware of how tense I must've been a moment ago. When I open my eyes, my brother is resting his chin on his knees, which he has tucked close to his chest.

"Remember that day during summer before junior year?" he asks with a chuckle. "You wanted to color your hair. Era como una sirena."

I smile, "Don't make fun of mermaids," I say, kicking as his shin with my foot. "Las sirenas son hermosas!"

"Hay si, claro!" Jose rolls his eyes, but he knows I am obsessed with mermaids. "So, we should celebrate twins being reunited. Quieres ver película conmigo?"

"I'd love to watch a movie."

Jose climbs out of our clubhouse first. I follow after him on my hands and knees. My brother helps me to my feet once I have exited the small space. I catch an odd gleam in Jose's dark eyes. I am too late to react as he throws me over his shoulder and runs towards the house. I squeal and pound on his back with my fists. My hair hangs loose. It dangles down, batting at my brother's legs. I hear laughter as Jose carries me through the house and up the stairs. I wrap my arms around his waist, holding tight for security. Jose has been the only one I have ever allowed to manhandle me this way. Anyone else was forbidden because I didn't trust them.

Jose carries me into his old bedroom and flops me on the bed. We're both laughing. We lay side by side on our backs. My brother's ceiling is covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. They are not glowing in the afternoon light, but childhood memories are flooding my mind. All the fun games my brother and I would play before we started high school.

"Remember the cave?" Jose asks as we stare up at the plastic stars. "Con los murciélagos vampiros."

"Ugh!" I grimace, "Of course I remember the vampire bats. You scared the living life out of me that night. Dad grounded you for a month."

"Only because you were screaming 'bloody murder'," he chuckles and shoves my shoulder. "Eso fue culpa tuya!"

I laugh, "I still think you deserved it. You knew what freaked me out most, and you took advantage of that, you goof."

"No sea asi, hermana!"

Our laughter starts to die down as Yessenia walks into the room, arms crossed over her chest. She's still wearing the slutty outfit from earlier.

"Dile que se parece una puta," I tell Jose, motioning to our sister.

"Te pareces una puta," he repeats, point blank.

"Be on my side for once!" Yessenia shouts, her forehead creasing. "Jose, if I don't look the part, I lose my status."

"And that's bad?" Jose asks, leaning up on his elbows.

"Yes! I won't be popular anymore!"

"Chiquitin, you don't need the approval of your peers. Dress modestly and you will attract the right kind of attention. Both Mami and Elena told you not to wear that outfit. So-"

"Hay, olvidalo!"

Yessenia flicks her hand as she turns on her heel and leaves the room, shouting nothingness. Jose groans and flops backwards again.

"She's gonna hit her head one day," I mumble, covering my eyes with my arm. "Then she'll understand."

"Like we did?" Jose's question makes me look at him. The memory of our joint mistake brews in my brain like a bad burn. A burn that has left a scar. Calloused, protecting the tender layer beneath.

"That was so stupid," I whisper, even though I am sure our entire neighborhood remembers the Estrada twins. "Eramos unos estupidos, hermano."

"We were," Jose whispers back, sighing. "But you know what? Nos aprendimos un lección que nunca nos olvidemos."

"Mhm," I sigh, nodding as I bring my hands up behind my head. "Do you think about that . . . that day?"

"I do . . . but I look at it with fresh eyes. I don't look at it with the guilt and regret. I look at it as the lesson we learned from our mistake . . . Our mistakes mold us into the people we are today."

"I don't think I was molded in the same way you were . . . I'm too compassionate and you said so yourself. I try to look at the good that may not even exist."

Jose pushes up and looks at me as he speaks. "That's all bad, hermana. You just need to keep your guard up better. The right person will see your qualities and won't take advantage of them the way others have."

I sigh, but nod. As usual, Jose makes some sense of my scattered thoughts. I must admit, for a while leading to the break up, I couldn't communicate with Aiden. I could never get my point across. He never wanted to hear me talk. I figured it was because I talk too much. After that, I stopped talking almost all together. And what does it matter now? Aiden is no longer part of my life. And I will be happier without him.

***

I smile at my laptop as I watch the little dots bouncing around, waiting for my friend, Dezi, to finish typing a message. When the message appears, I can't help chuckling.

Dezi: I think I just lost my left toe to the dog. He keeps chewing on it.

EstreLena: Give him a chew-toy then!

Dezi: That would imply that I get up!

Dezi: I don't mind the teething perro that much.

Dezi: He's just a baby.

EstreLena: LOL, at least you are not one to grumble about it too much. My sister is not dog friendly, but I would love to have one.

Dezi: I would send you mine. El es super cariñoso y humilde.

EstreLena: You won't miss him?

Dezi: Nah, he would love you.

EstreLena: He would miss you though.

Dezi: Maybe.
Dezi: Well, I wanted to talk more, but I have an early morning. Talk to you soon?

EstreLena: Duh, wouldn't be a normal weekend if you didn't.

Dezi: I never know when I'll have time to sit and talk.

Dezi: It always surprises me that you're still online during your late hours.

EstreLena: I know, right!

EstreLena: Well, take care. No seas estraño.

Dezi: I couldn't stay away even if I tried.

Dezi: Sweet dreams.

I smile like a fool as I close my laptop. Dezi is a good friend, and I often find myself imagining myself in a relationship with him. I met him through social media. I had been looking at photography and came across one of his random pictures of a beautiful estate in Colombia. I had messaged him about it, asking how he'd managed to capture the picture. But then we started talking more and more, growing completely off the topic. We became fast friends.

We've never exchanged pictures, but out of mutual agreement. My curiosity is often triggered whenever I think of what it would be like to meet him. I can never give him a face. I'm afraid to guess wrong and be disappointed if the event ever does occur. Dezi's personality is unlike anyone I've ever met. I don't know how we managed to remain friends through my relationship with Aiden. But we did. Knowing him has helped me so much. And even though I am still hurting, Dezi doesn't push. He's just there for me when I need him. Like another brother, but not really. I honestly don't know what I'd do without him.