The Goddess Twins Read online

  Because it certainly wasn’t my mother. When I needed her, she was focused on her romance with the cruise director. Later, Arden and I found her giggling with him under a canopy. I will never forget how she turned to us and flippantly said, “Oh, you two. You’re having fun and staying safe, right? Good.” Then she turned right back to snuggling the cruise director without waiting for us to respond. Because she didn’t actually care if we were all right or not.

  Neither Arden nor I ever told Mother about the near-drowning incident. We just agreed that since I was fine, we would move on. But I’ve never quite moved on. At that moment I stopped calling Selene anything but Mother. No Mommy or Mama or even Mom—I felt they were too soft, too intimate. Too much of a reward. If Selene can’t even see me and save me when I’m drowning, if she is more concerned with her affairs than her children’s lives, then she doesn’t get to be Mommy.

  So now, even though Arden is set to play Rescue Rangers, I didn’t see why we should. First, Mother wouldn’t do the same for us. Second, there are scores of trained professionals already on the case, if there even is a case. And third, okay, by the time we could sneak away from Leo and board a flight to London and start looking for her, Mother could very well be on her way back home. It doesn’t make sense!

  I sigh heavily at the internal combustion engine that is Arden pacing the floor, wearing it into a fine dust. She flings her curls away from her face with a level of aggression I know the curls did nothing to deserve. She continues mumbling to herself, her voice rising and falling in intensity. Tears fall from her cheeks onto her shirt.

  Oh, crap. I hate seeing this. Yes, I pick on her all the time, but I don’t like seeing my sister cry. She’s easy to give her love but also easy to break when that love is not returned. To see her crumbling over this makes me want our mother here, right now, so Arden can be okay again. My twin needs our mother more than I ever have or will. It’s easy for them to vibe on each other. I’m not even mad or jealous about it; it’s just one of those truths about my family. Mother and I are clash and friction; she and Arden are a symphony. I think I’m more like our father. That is, I make the assumption that I’m like my father, even though I have no idea who he is.

  That’s right—we don’t know who our father is. At all. We do know it’s not Leo, but other than that, nothing. I know it sounds so pathetic, like, “Who’s the baby daddy, waah, just do a Maury episode and get it over with like everyone else in America.” And like, yes, I agree, I want the answers. I’m even willing to do a whole Mama Mia thing and track down this sucker. But you must understand this important thing: My mother has unshakable determination over just a few things in life, and she is determined that Arden and I will not know our father. It’s like trying to squeeze juice from a brick; she won’t help us search for him or share anything about him at all.

  In Prague years ago, after she discovered I was asking the crew about who our father could be, she went livid, screaming at me, demanding I never speak of him again. I refused to respond, though her rage had me thinking she might slap me for disagreeing. I was ready to catch a slap if it meant she understood I was going to uncover my father, someday. Arden is fine not talking about him. She doesn’t want to even try uncovering him. She’s told me repeatedly to just let it go, to be grateful for what we do have with one another, with Mother, with Leo.

  In so many ways, Arden’s like the much sweeter version of me. Seeing the bawling mess she has become since hearing Mother is missing makes me ache for her. Not to mention I have been garbage to my twin today. What is wrong with me? Why am I so on edge? Maybe you can press pause on being terrible and useless for one moment? I think, and gather the strength to speak.

  “Arden?” I call out meekly.

  She brushes me off with a wave.

  “Arden!” I say, sharper this time.

  She turns to me with a cocked eyebrow. “I know what you are trying to get into,” she says, “but I already told you I didn’t invite that guy into my room, and I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “What? Who?” I ask.

  “That Devin guy. The older guy. I was not trying to take him from you or whatever you think was happening, okay? I’m not trying to fight you over some guy.” Arden crosses her arms at me.

  “Devin,” I echo slowly, the last hour coming back through bits and pieces. She thinks I’m still upset about the whole kiss/bitch slap situation? I’m already so over it, I barely remember it happening.

  “Yes, Devin! His name is Devin,” Arden says, rolling her eyes, resuming her pacing.

  Does she really think so little of me to assume I’m stuck on that stupid boy drama? I watch Arden massage the tip of her ear. Wait, did I bite her ear? I really need to never drink again. “I know his name is Devin …” I begin but she cuts me off.

  “You’re ridiculous!” She whips around, her hands balled into fists beside her. “I don’t even know how you can still be concerned with him when we have bigger things going on! Or are you still too wasted to even notice I am trying to figure out how to save our mom? I don’t know how to deal with you!” She sighs and lifts her hair off her neck.

  She doesn’t know how to deal with me? I feel the strong urge to yank that hair to get her to pay attention. Suddenly the bathtub faucet twists hard and water spews from the nozzle, startling us both. What the … I reach over and turn it off, puzzled.

  I take a deep breath and turn toward my twin. “Look, Arden, I want to talk about Mother. About what we should do for her.” I try to stand but think better of it when the room tilts sideways. I ease slowly back to the tub edge. “I didn’t want her to go to London. You know how upset I was.”

  Arden rolls her eyes once again and turns away from me. “This is so not about you, Aurora,” she sighs, moving her shoulders and neck, cracking them loudly. “Why can’t you see that?”

  My face fills with heat. My hands contract. I really want to grab her neck. Hard. As soon as that thought comes, a towel flies off the wall hook and lands on Arden’s head. Flying towels? As Arden wrestles with the cloth around her head, I stifle a laugh. “If it’s not about me,” I quip, “we can make it about you and the twenty-five-year-old man in your room, since that’s what you want to talk about.”

  “Oh my god! You’re a broken record! First of all, he was twenty-one, not twenty-five. And second, but most importantly, our mother is missing in another country!” Arden shouts, finally freed of the towel and full of fury for me. “Can we just focus on that? Pretty please?” It’s the angriest and most sarcastic use of “pretty please” I’ve ever heard, and it makes me want to bite her ear all over again.

  “Oh, I could focus if you could get off my back. Can you do that, pretty please?” Anger surges through my body. I stand up, successfully this time, and face Arden, silently daring her to take the first shot. At that moment, a framed painting of a mermaid drops off the wall with a crash. The lights in the bathroom flash brightly then dim. Arden and I look around. Is this room haunted? The hot water, the towel, now the painting and lights—something happens every time I’m about to pop off on my twin. Am I making this happen?

  I move slowly and pick up the painting gently, the glass shattered but still holding together in the frame. It’s one of Mother’s favorites, a beautiful indigo-haired mermaid with dark lilac skin, sitting on a rock jutting out of the ocean. The mermaid’s midnight blue eyes stare unblinkingly back at me through the cracked glass, almost like she’s waiting on me to make a decision. Then I swear I see her tail and hair move. I carefully put the picture back on the wall, the shattered glass still bonded together somehow. Am I bugging out or is something going on inside me? I turn back and see Arden close to tears again.

  “How am I on your back, when you keep bringing up Devin to embarrass me? How many times do I have to say I don’t want to talk about it?” Arden sniffles. “Tonight was terrible. I’m trying to keep it together, to figure out what we need to do next, but it’s like you just want to watch me drown in
it. Is this fun for you?”

  “Arden,” I swallow hard, my heart sinking. Why do I suck so very much? Stop jumping into the evil twin vortex, Aurora. “Of course, this isn’t fun for me! Ugh, I’m so sorry you even have that thought. I’m so sorry about everything tonight.”

  “Really? Suddenly you’re sorry? You bit my ear, psycho!” Arden grabs her still swollen ear.

  “I said I was sorry about everything!” I bark defensively, hearing my tone a beat too late. What is my damage tonight? I sigh and face my sister squarely. “Look, I am seriously sorry. I got all heated and out of control. I could blame it on the alcohol, but I shouldn’t have bit you. Though, you did slap me …”

  Arden rolls her eyes.

  I place my hands on her shoulders. “Okay, I’ll keep it real. The bite was pure malice and super wrong. I’m really, really sorry. Can we get past it, please? I love you more than anything, and I want us to make up. You can slap me again if that will expedite the healing.”

  I turn and move my cheek closer and closer to her face until she is practically kissing me. She smiles and tries to hide it, but I hear her quietly chuckle, giving in, like I knew she would.

  “Okay, yes,” she sighs. “You’ve been a complete and total brat, but I guess I accept your apology.”

  I bounce on my toes in response, but she shakes her head.

  “I reserve the option of revenge any time I see fit.”

  “My ear. Your name on it. I got it.”

  We embrace, and I breathe in the sweetness of coconut and almond oil from Arden’s hair. Then I pull back to look at her still furrowed brow.

  “And another thing,” I say. “You’re right. We have to go to London tonight, Ar. It’s up to us to find Mother.”

  Honestly, I don’t really want to fly to London, but it’s the only option I can take. Arden is the most important person in my life, so I will journey with her to find the most important person in hers.

  “You agree?” She wipes the tears from her cheeks, and her entire body lights up.

  “Yes, I agree,” I say, nearly convincing myself. “Who knows if the police or the PIs are actually doing anything? We’re the ones with the most at stake. We should try whatever we can to get her back.” When I need to, I can lie through my teeth. It’s a talent I learned early. Stare at Mother and tell her you’re fine, nothing happened.

  Arden throws her arms around me, and I feel like I’m hugging a better version of me—the person I could be. I look over her shoulder at the cracked glass of the mermaid picture. I’m pretty sure I broke it when I was thinking about choking my sister. Am I becoming some type of super villain, fueled by my darkest wishes? Aurora, you’ve always known the truth and now this is proof. Deep down, you’re a monster. The nausea returns like a tidal wave.

  “This is going to be great, Aurora. I can feel it,” I hear Arden say as I collapse beside the toilet bowl and vomit.

  3

  Arden

  BODY OF WATER

  Aurora is snoring lightly in the seat next to me while I fidget like a flea-ridden dog. I twist my neck and peek around the airplane cabin. Nearly every seat carries a bored, restless, or sleeping passenger. The recirculated air tastes stale in my mouth and dry in my lungs. I swear I can pinpoint the sensation of a foul virus weaving itself into my bloodstream. We have one more hour till we land, and I’m clawing myself from the inside. How is it that my twin can rest so soundly when absolutely everything is a mess?

  I lift the window shade and look out at the dark blue ocean beneath us. It feels like a black hole that could suck us up at any moment. I have always hated flying, especially when the plane has to cross over a large body of water. “What if we fall out of the sky into the sea?” I once asked Mom on one of our many flights from one end of the earth to the other.

  “Oh, don’t worry, baby. The mermaids will find us and swim us to safety. They’re my dearest friends,” she winked and wove her fingers through mine. She held my hand throughout the entire flight, even during dinner.

  Now my hands are knotted together in worry. Mom is in mortal danger. In my heart I know this is true. When I think about how I sent her off with a smile yesterday morning … I could have done something to prevent this, right? At least Aurora tried to get Mom to stay.

  I look at the crescent moon-shaped marks my fingernails have carved into my palm, and I think of my second source of worry. Aurora is a horrible liar. I always know when she’s trying to get something over on me. Her left cheek twitches when she’s being less than honest, and it was twitching up a storm in the bathroom. While I’m grateful she decided to join me on this quest, I know she isn’t truly concerned about our mom.

  I don’t know why she’s still being so fake with me. But it’s fine. For real. I don’t even think she knows I’m on to her, so she can just stay in her realm of secrecy for all I care. I can tell something heavy is going on inside her, but for now, I can’t play my role in the Aurora show. My only focus is on rescuing Mom.

  The pilot’s voice comes over the loudspeaker and announces we are nearing descent to Heathrow airport. I feel my anxiety lift slightly, knowing we’ll be on land soon. I tune the captain out as my thoughts travel to Leo. He’s probably having a coronary right now, on the real. He was already blowing a gasket over the house party shenanigans, and now we’ve gone and snuck out right from under his nose. I pull the window shutter closed and pray Leo understands that Aurora and I have to do whatever we can to get Mom back safe and sound. Of course, we left him with a note, but I’m sure his brain will explode once he reads it. I mean, I’d never seen him as upset as he was when he found Devin in my room, and this is so much worse!

  And Devin … I don’t know what to think, about either the guy or our potent chemistry. Why are we so drawn to each other? What does it have to do with this sudden mind reading thing that’s happening to me? Ugh! No! I can’t think about that terrifying magical crap. I have one mission: Rescue Mom!

  “HELLO, LONDON. HOW I barely missed you,” Aurora mumbles as we emerge from the customs maze into Heathrow’s bright and airy terminal lobby. I’m swimming in several layers of worry as people around us kiss their hellos, exuberant at seeing their loved ones again. My stomach aches for Mom to be here, safe and sound, to greet us, too.

  “Let’s just take a taxi and get to the hotel,” Aurora says, frowning at a young kid running to hug his mother.

  “We’re going to find her, you know.” I nudge her elbow as I tug on my backpack.

  “Yeah, sure. Piece of cake in a city of a billion people,” Aurora mutters, dragging her own pack across the floor.

  “Look!” I turn to face her, refusing to let her negativity stand. “I know you’re faking it, but can you try doing it better? We are going to find Mom, okay?”

  “What do you mean, I’m faking it?” she asks slowly.

  Oops. So much for keeping the charade a secret. “Aurora, come on. I know you were dropping fat lies about wanting to come here. You think Mom’s just partying on the Thames or whatever, but I know she needs us. You don’t care, and it’s fine, because I care enough for the both of us. We’re getting Mom back. That’s what’s happening. So get on board, all right?”

  My Braveheart-level passion leaves Aurora slack-jawed. We stare each other down for a moment. Aurora moves her mouth to reply, when we hear voices shrieking in our direction, “It’s them! Oh yeah, I know it’s them. Finally!”

  “Yo, twinsies! Over here!”

  Before I can turn to look, Aurora and I are mobbed by two squealing strangers. I catch a whiff of fresh flowers filling the air as I’m nearly tackled to the ground by one of them, who embraces me so tightly she knocks the air out of my lungs. When the woman releases me to embrace Aurora, I finally get a quick look at these strangers. They are slightly older than my sister and me, early twenties I would guess, with dark bronze skin, bright alert eyes, and killer dimpled smiles. They are definitely sisters, and they are beautiful with their wicked-stylish, punk-inspired outfi
ts and hair.

  One of the sisters is lithe and tiny, her hair in glamorously neat, ombre violet braids with both sides near her ears shaved low. She wears fuchsia leggings, a black perforated sweater with bleach spots, and black work boots that look like they’ve been through several battles. The other sister is a tall, voluptuous Ruben muse, her ombre hair in blue, waist-length dreadlocks. She wears a highly shredded T-shirt dress worn open over a leather patchwork cat suit. I’m speechless taking them in. This is how they roll through the airport, casually walking on fashion fire?

  “Ugh, excuse you? Get the hell off of me!” Aurora sputters, pushing away her bear hugger.

  I choose to take a more diplomatic approach, assuming these ladies are just confusing us with someone else. “I’m sorry, but do we know you?” I ask, untangling myself from an aggressive embrace.

  “No, you don’t! Ha! But that and these bags are just a few of the problems we’ll have fixed soon, love,” the taller curvy woman says in a melodious British accent. She winks and her diamond eyebrow piercing flashes in the light. She reaches out to take my small duffle bag, but I pull it back.

  “Don’t be afraid of us, love! We’re your cousins! Welcome to Londontown, twinsies,” the smaller sister says, her voice a higher pitched version of her sister’s. She bounces on the balls of her feet like she’s preparing to take flight. She’s built like a pixie—petite features on a petite body, with a tongue piercing that makes her words come out in a lisp. She’s the most adorable woman I’ve met in quite a while. “The twinsies are in London, London meet the twinsies,” she sings while dancing around us, her arms making graceful circles, her legs leaping easily though the air.

  “Let’s cut it with that twinsies thing, Lilo. It’s about time you two showed up though, mates,” says the taller young woman as she takes in me and Aurora. “As you can see, we’re excited. We’ve been dying to meet you for ages, you know!”