Chapter 2
Mel Garcia closed the refrigerator door. Between their shifts at the coffee shop and managing the volunteers at the youth center, buying more groceries had been the last thing on their mind.
They hadn’t planned on their mom asking them to babysit on their one day off this week. Not that they thought their twin sisters needed a babysitter at sixteen. When Mel had been their age, they’d often been left alone, other than being the one watching their then toddler sisters.
They’d really thought in ten years things would have changed, but apparently not.
“No!”
Mel spun at the anguished cry from the living room.
It only took a few steps to get to the other room.
They already knew which twin the exclamation came from.
Denise had always had the more forceful personality.
Sonia sat next to her sister on Mel’s couch, continuing to flip through a book, as Denise stared dejectedly at the screen of her phone.
Mel’s chest pinched slightly, worrying what their sister saw there. They hoped now that they were on vacation for the summer, there would be a lot less worry. Neither of the girls had an easy time at school, and Mel had tried to get their parents to see it was more than just teen drama.
Denise usually reacted to taunts, especially against Sonia, with anger. It had gotten her suspended more than once, and according to their parents, she needed to learn to behave better, instead of them questioning if something else was behind her outbursts.
Mel was working with her on that, and she’d been getting better. Even if one of their classmates said something online, Mel doubted it would have caused that anguish in the teen’s voice.
Anger, but not anguish.
“What happened?” Mel headed over to the couch.
“The Ocelots probably lost,” Sonia said, not looking up from her book. “It’s the only thing that gets her upset like that.”
“Shut up.” Denise flinched, but she didn’t look up. “They were so close,” she said, and her grip tightened around her phone.
Mel moved forward, afraid she would throw it.
Their parents said they wouldn’t replace another phone.
Denise punched her hand into the couch instead.
Once, twice, then a third time before all the strength drained out of her, and she brought her legs up onto the couch in front of her.
“They shouldn’t have brought that guy up. He’s still a… a child.”
Sonia put her book down. “Denny, he’s three years older than we are. Almost four. I don’t think you can call him a child. You were impressed with his last outing. You wouldn’t shut up about it for the next day. At least it meant you stopped obsessing over that catcher for at least a day.”
That grabbed Mel’s attention. It wasn’t the first time Denny became overly interested in not just a topic, but a person. They would have to keep an eye on that and make sure it wouldn’t be to their sister’s detriment.
This time.
Denise turned a glare on her twin sister. “I’m not obsessed. He’s just a good player. And Bloom didn’t perform like that today. They should send him back down to AA. Even single A if he couldn’t help but blow the game. God, I hate this.”
“It’s one game,” Sonia said, not looking away from her book. “They still have a winning record, and three months left to play. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
“You make a big deal out of nothing.” Denise flopped against the couch.
Mel bit the inside of their cheek. The comeback hadn’t made much sense, but laughing would only set Denise off even more. “I’m sorry your team lost,” they said. “I’m sure it’s disappointing. Taking it out on my couch isn’t the answer.”
Color rose high in Denise’s cheeks, and she looked away. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
Mel wouldn’t press the issue. Their mother would have, Mel knew that well from experience. She would have pushed until Denise exploded and then blame the teenager for it. That had happened often during Mel’s youth, and they hadn’t been quite as…volatile as Denise tended to be.
“All right,” they said. “Let’s get some dinner, then I’ll drop the two of you off at home.”
The twins had turned sixteen in the spring, but Mel’s parents insisted they needed supervision all day. Mel was willing to provide it. At least Mel would know someone was there for the two of them.
What else were they supposed to do? They couldn’t let their siblings down. Or the coffee shop. Or the center.
There wasn’t anything else for it. So, they shoved the selfish thoughts away and got ready to give just a little more.
They were halfway through dinner when Mel saw the rest of the tension just drain out of Denise’s shoulders. She’d been quiet as their dinner had been dropped off, that phone still clutched in her hand.
Maybe Mel should have addressed how much she seemed to be glued to that device. Not their place, though. Their mother always reminded Mel that they weren’t the twins’ parent. They didn’t get to decide punishments or to determine what the twins needed.
Like an evaluation for ADHD. Even though the signs were right in front of them, their parents insisted the girls only needed to try harder. Then Sonia would be able to stay on track better and Denise wouldn’t be quite so impulsive.
As if it was as simple as that., None of Mel’s arguments had been able to get through to them. They were left supporting the girls as much as they could.
“They did it,” Denise said. “They actually did something smart and sent Bloom back down. Maybe next time they’ll put someone in to close the game and not blow it.”
This was still about baseball. Mel should have figured. Lately it seemed to be the single thing Denise cared about. “Does that mean you can put your phone away and finish eating your dinner? If I don’t have you home by eight, you know Mom’s going to be upset.”
Denise rolled her eyes like the teenager she was.
Mel bit down on their cheek to hold in a laugh.
Denise would take it to mean they were laughing at her, instead of how typical her behavior was, no matter what she wanted to think.
Denise did put her phone facedown on the table and took another bite of her burger before picking the phone up again.
Mel reached for one of their own fries. They loved how the diner seasoned the waffle fries, and ordered them whenever they came here. It was almost better than the burgers. Almost.
Denise took one more bite of her burger even as her thumb scrolled along the screen of her phone. At least that was one battle won. They would leave the war of the phone for another day.
Their server came bounding over to the table.
It was really the only way to describe the way they moved.
Mel couldn’t help but smile. They’d been coming here at least once a week for nearly five years, ever since Benjamin Larson opened the place.
Back then Rory had often been bussing tables and washing dishes.
Usually dressed in baggy clothes, hair falling into their face, their head down as they went about the work.
That changed a couple years ago when they’d officially moved in with their older brother. They’d cut their hair, changed their wardrobe, and announced proudly to whoever they interacted with what their pronouns were.
Mel had initially struggled with being that assertive when they’d first come out.
It hadn’t helped that their parents resisted changing the way they referred to Mel.
Eventually Mel found the courage to insist on just who they were.
It always made them glad to see others who hadn’t had to struggle so much for that.
Rory smiled at them. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Denise shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth, and Sonia fiddled with the straw in her cup of melting ice. Her eyes were glued to the top of the table, but Mel thought her cheeks were darker. Was she blushing?
Mel turned back to Rory. “I think we’re ready for our bill.”
“I’ll bring that right out. I hope you all had a wonderful evening.”
“Better than it’s going to be,” Denise muttered.
It was half past seven. Plenty of time remained for Mel to get the twins home before the eight o’clock curfew their mother pulled out of thin air. Yet, they had no doubt Denise was right. Their mother would find one little thing they’d done wrong and completely blow it up.
Nothing else for it. As soon as they’d paid the bill, Mel ushered their sisters out of the diner. Might as well get this over with.