Chapter 2

ALEJANDRA.

Today Zaire, Katherine, and I are going to the beach. It’s only a quarter mile walk from our house, and since we only have a few days left before Zaire leaves for college, we want to spend some quality time together.

Zaire is my barely older brother. He’s eleven months older than Katherine and me. Honestly, I feel bad for my parents. I’m pretty sure Katherine and I were an accidental pregnancy. Mom had just given birth and then she got pregnant again, with twins.

At first, they didn’t know Katherine and I were twins. They just thought they were having one baby. I was the surprise baby on delivery day. I’m still not sure how I stayed hidden. But Katherine was a big baby, nearly nine pounds, and I was only five pounds. So, I must’ve just been blocked by her larger frame.

“Do you have sunscreen?” Mom asks, stopping me by the front door.

She doesn’t ask Katherine or Zaire. Probably because they don’t need it. They’re super tan and I’m the pasty white one. No matter how long I spend in the sun, I never get tan. But I also never burn. It’s weird. But I still put sunscreen on when my parents are around for their peace of mind.

“Yes, Mom,” I reply, letting out an annoyed breath. I know she means well, but why am I always the one that is doted on?

“Look after your sisters.” Mom gives Zaire a pointed look.

Even though we’ve been going to the beach on our own since we were ten years old, my mom still freaks out, thinking somebody is going to kidnap us. It’s not like the part of town we live in is exactly dangerous—there are a lot of families and elders. Even the elders are smart enough to not be in town this time of year. Today, it’s nearly one hundred degrees.

“I will. Bye, Mom,” Zaire says, rolling his eyes. He’s clearly annoyed that we’re not half way to the beach yet.

Zaire, Katherine and I are stuck in the middle of all our siblings. We have two older siblings, Dahlia and Clay. Dahlia is twenty-five and married. Clay is twenty-two. He just graduate college and has recently moved back home. Mom is glad to have him here, but Dad is trying to push him to look for a job. Clay is happy to just be a moocher.

We also have two younger siblings as well, Legend and Amara. Legend is fifteen and he plays football. He recently started dating this girl from school. They’re both too young to actually go out, so they mostly hang out here or at her house. They’re cute together. And Amara is thirteen. She is in that awkward stage between being a kid and a teenager. She has braces, crushes hardcore on boy bands and recently joined the cheerleading squad.

We walk the quarter mile to the beach. It’s easier to just walk there than drive. By the time we get there, sweat is dripping down my face. I grab a rubber band from the pocket of my shorts and pull my hair up. I sigh as my hair lifts off my neck. When Katherine sees me, she pulls her hair up too.

We’re at the beach less than a minute before Zaire and Katherine both end up walking off with some friends, leaving me sitting under the beach umbrella alone. That’s just fine with me. I grab a book from my bag. I came prepared for this moment.

Zaire is playing football in the sand with some of his friends. I recognize some of them from our school, but others I’ve never seen before. He probably made friends with them today. He’s that kind of guy—the kind who can make friends with anyone and everybody. Him and Katherine both. I’ve always been jealous of them for it.

“Dude, she’s hot. Is she your girlfriend?” I hear one of the guys ask.

I roll my eyes.

“That’s my sister, you idiot,” Zaire huffs. “Don’t call her hot.”

He starts to say something else, but I hear somebody say, “She doesn’t like being touched. If you try, she’ll freak out.”

The comment makes my chest hurt, even if it’s true.

Everybody at school knows I don’t like being touched. Thanks to Zaire’s threats, nobody tries anymore.

I slip a pair of large sunglasses on. Not to shield my eyes from the sun, but to shield people from looking at me. They always stare because I have purple eyes. My parents got me checked at the doctor after I was born, and I’m perfectly healthy. I was just one of the super rare people born with purple eyes. So rare, in fact, that I’m one of six hundred people with the eye color. At first, they thought I was albino, but they quickly ruled that out. I’m not albino. I’m just white. Really, really white.

Still, part of me wishes I were albino. Then I would have a reason why I look so different than the rest of my family.

My thoughts are distracted when I feel a familiar tingle on the back of my neck. Once again, I sense that somebody is watching me, which is crazy. We’re on the beach. Nobody is watching me.

Still, I turn around to look and don’t see anybody there, re-solidifying the fact that I am indeed going crazy.

I turn back around just as somebody trips over my leg. They fall, their legs landing on top of mine.

Not prepared for the rush of emotions, the world spins and everything goes black for a second. When I open my eyes, I see Zaire pulling one of his friends off me and shoving him away.

“Are you okay?” Zaire asks, kneeling down beside me.

It’s then that I realize I’m lying down, my head inches from the pole of the umbrella.

I nod, letting him help me sit up.

“I’m fine,” I say, licking my dry lips. “I wasn’t prepared for anybody to touch me. I think I just passed out for a second.”

“A few seconds.” He starts to gather up out things, grabbing my bag and book in his hands. “We’re going home.”

“No, Zaire,” I protest, my voice steadier than I expect after blacking out. “I promise I’m fine. I was just surprised.”

The last thing I want to do is to leave the beach because someone accidentally tripped over me and I freaked out. Everybody already thinks I’m weird. I don’t need one more reason for the kids at school to look at me differently. Zaire won’t even be there to protect me this year.

“Are you sure?”

I nod.

He reluctantly hands me back my bag and book and gets up, turning back to his friend who tripped over me.

“Watch where you’re going,” Zaire grinds out.

Even from here, I can see that Zaire is furious. His entire body is tensed up and both hands are making a tight fist.

“It was an accident.” I shrug. “I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, Alejandra.” The boy grimaces at Zaire’s hard stare and shoots me an apologetic look.

“It’s okay,” I say, more for Zaire’s benefit than anyone else. “I’m fine.”

Eventually, the guys go back to playing football, but they move further away from me, making me feel even more like a freak.

I’ll never fit in.