I finished this chapter at 2am, so my apologies if it's a bit rough. Also, I had trouble writing this without getting into the kind of content I want to cover in the next chapter (which will likely be the last, despite my original wishes for five chapters; I just don't think I have enough material). So my apologies also if you feel like this is weird or forced or something. I don't know. It's two in the freaking morning. Also, I don't own The Fosters. Do I have to say that?

After a quiet dinner, Jude cleared the plates without being asked, and began to wash them. Despite Stef and Lena's constant protests, the boy liked helping out, especially in the kitchen, and they could never dissuade him from taking on more than his fair share. Mariana normally would have been grateful to get out of her turn for dish duty, but she had spent the entire meal in a foggy, dismal haze, starting when spoken to, and responding in syllables. Both twins got up from the table and headed upstairs immediately after finishing, Jesús mumbling a thank you to Lena for cooking, and another to Jude for cleaning up. Stef raised her eyebrows at Lena, plainly asking if they should accost the twins now to talk about their earlier transgression, and Lena shook her head slightly. Let them go, she mouthed. Stef nodded.

Upstairs, Jesús and Mariana each went into their respective rooms and closed their doors. Mariana sat on the edge of her bed and looked at the collage Lexi had made for her quinceñera, tears welling in her eyes again. She wiped her face roughly with the back of her hand, and then gave up on restraint and let the tears fall. Her best friend in the whole entire world was gone – just gone for good. And there was no way anyone would understand.

Jesús sat on his bed and stared at the floorboards under his sock-covered feet. His girlfriend, his Lexi, was gone. Really, really gone. She wasn't just under house arrest or hiding in Wyatt's dilapidated house. She was in Honduras – well, she was probably in the air right now. But regardless, she was gone. He searched within himself for some anger to guard against the rapidly approaching emptiness and found none. The stabbing pain of loss consumed him, and he slowly hit his thigh with one fist, over and over.

A soft knock on his door interrupted Jesús' steadily building sadness. He exhaled heavily, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Who is it?"

"It's Mariana," came the quiet response. He could hear the exhaustion in his sister's voice.

"Come in," he replied. She opened the door quietly and walked to his bed, sitting down beside him.

"You okay?" she asked seriously. He shrugged.

"Not really," Jesús admitted. "Are you?" Mariana let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "Didn't think so," he answered himself, holding his arms out to her. Mariana rested her head on her brother's chest and began to cry.

"I just miss her so much," she wailed. Jesús stroked her hair.

"I know. Me too. But at least we have each other, right?" he comforted. Then, frightened she'd misinterpret, he hastily clarified, "I mean, obviously you're not going to be my girlfriend. But you know what I mean. Right? At least we can miss her together." Mariana nodded, sniffing.

"She was my best friend," she said in a small voice. "Since forever. Since before we were adopted, even. She was the first person I felt safe around after you."

"I know," Jesús said, still caressing his sister's hair. "And I only dated her for a few weeks. I get it. I can't compare what we had to what you two had. I know that."

Mariana pulled away, breathing deeply to get ahold of herself. "Don't say that, Jesús. I mean, she was the first girl you… you know… did it with. That's a pretty big deal." Jesús smirked a little. "Unless she wasn't your first?" Mariana asked, her eyes widening. Her brother opened his mouth and she shook her head, holding up one hand in a 'stop' gesture. "Boy, I don't even want to know."

"She was my first," Jesús said, the sadness creeping back into his voice. Mariana put her hand on his wrist.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, rubbing her thumb gently along the back of his hand.

"It's not fair," Jesús said, his hands curling into fists once again.

"No, it's not," Mariana answered, shaking her head gently. "But it happened, right? And now we just have to-"
"Move on?" He laughed derisively. "Forget it, Mari. There's no way I'm moving on."

"I wasn't going to say that," his sister defended. "I was going to say we have to… I don't know." She sighed. "Something. We have to do something?"
"Like what?" Jesús said, a hardness in his voice. "Like forget her? Like find new best friends and girlfriends? That's not going to happen, Mariana!" He was almost yelling by the end of his sentence.

"Stop it, Jesús," she order, her voice shaky. "Don't get mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you!" he yelled. "I'm mad at her! And her parents! Why did they do this?" He started to cry for the first time since Lexi had kissed him goodbye. As the tears began to roll down her twin's face, Mariana felt her own beginning to form again. Just then, there was another knock on Jesús' bedroom door.