Twenty-ChapterSeven

That night, I want to celebrate with Lily, but she makes plans with Ruby. A date. Her first. And I don’t want to do my hovering thing that I tend to do, so it’s a relief when Sophie asks Marisol and me to spend the night at her house.

Her parents are settled in the finished basement for a date night in, so we have free run of the house, but we choose to hang out in Sophie’s room. I’m giving us each a full glam makeover because it’s Friday and we want to and we don’t need any other reason.

While I work on filling in Sophie’s eyebrows, Marisol is painting her toenails a vibrant pink.

As she admires her work, she asks, “Can we please talk about how perfect Lily’s proposal was?”

“It was absolutely everything,” I gush. “I swear, just thinking about it makes me tear up again.”

“I felt like I was getting to see my own sister have her dream moment!” Sophie says. “Hopefully this doesn’t sound crass, but Whit, did you know? That she was into girls?”

I shrug a shoulder. “I mean . . . not really, no. But I’m also not super surprised. It’s hard to explain. The way she had been talking about Ruby, it makes total sense.” I pause. “I do wonder how Abuela will react to having two gaybies in the house, though.”

The word gaybies sends Sophie into a fit of giggles, which makes me and Marisol laugh, too.

“She was fine when you came out, no?” Marisol asks.

I nod. “She and Abuelo both were. I wasn’t expecting it at all, but they’re pretty amazing that way.”

“I think she’ll be thrilled. Especially when she hears how happy the proposal made Lily,” Sophie says.

Marisol blows on the wet polish. “Ugh, if Ari doesn’t give me a proposal at least half as sweet as the one Lily got, we’re done.”

I add some blush to Sophie’s cheekbones. “As if you’d ever leave Ari. You guys are sickeningly in love!”

“Yeah, but she’s testing my patience,” Marisol says, pouting. “I’m about to sic Titi Ines on her.”

“The bruja?” I ask, and Marisol nods.

Sophie rolls her eyes. “Oh my God! Chill! Ari is working on something.”

“What do you know, Benedict Arnold?!” Marisol demands.

“I’m sworn to secrecy. But it’ll be worth the wait. Right, Whit?” Sophie looks to me for encouragement.

Ari texted us earlier this week for help in executing her plan, so we know it’s coming. I nod enthusiastically. “You’re going to love it!”

Marisol squeals, throwing herself back onto the fuzzy carpet we’re sitting on. “I knew my baby wouldn’t let me down!”

“You were just talking about breaking up with her!” I say with a laugh.

“I’ve changed my mind. My girl looooves meeeeee,” Marisol sings. “And I just got some good news about the debate club! Now that the club is officially official, Ms. Singh says she can help me look into qualifying for the National Speech and Debate Tournament!”

My eyes go big. “Whoa, that sounds amazing!”

“It does!” Sophie enthuses. She waits a beat, then glances between us. “What does it mean?”

“I’m glad you asked, because I was just going to pretend I knew,” I say with a laugh.

Marisol sits up dramatically. “It means that I might be able to represent our district and compete against over six thousand kids from across the nation! The top contenders are named national champions, and it looks so freaking good on your college applications,” she explains. “Ms. Singh says she isn’t sure we’ll be able to get everything prepared in time to hold a proper competition, but she promised to do everything in her power to help.”

Sophie claps her hands together. “Oh my gosh that would be incredible!”

Marisol shrugs. “Well, I’d still need to win in our district to get sent to the national competition, but yeah.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “It would be great just to participate. Oprah Winfrey is an alum!”

“Holy shit.” I grin as I fill in Sophie’s brows. “You and Oprah Winfrey!”

She laughs. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But we’re basically besties, yeah.”

“You’ll definitely get into the national competition, and your bestie Oprah will have no choice but to call and congratulate you,” I say.

“We’ll see,” Marisol replies, but she’s smiling in a way that tells me she’s flattered by our unyielding confidence in her. “Anyway, what’s been up with you guys?”

Sophie gives us a devilish grin. “My stuffy music teacher broke his leg skiing so we have a substitute for the rest of the semester.”

I gasp. “Oh my gosh!”

Marisol tightens the cap on her nail polish bottle and giggles. “Soph looks way too pleased about that news.”

She shakes her head emphatically. “I’m not pleased about the injury, I swear! But . . .”

I arch an eyebrow at her. “But?”

“Well, the new substitute is amazing and has already said we can perform something contemporary for our winter show, so . . . sometimes the world works in mysterious ways, okay?”

Marisol shrugs one shoulder. “Or maybe you were secretly hoping for your teacher’s demise!”

“I wasn’t!” Sophie insists, tossing a pillow at Marisol, who laughs and ducks.

“Maybe it was Titi Ines’s doing,” I joke. Then I pat Sophie’s knee. “You’re all done, by the way.”

Sophie grabs her mirror and admires her look. “Oh my God, I love it! What lip color is this?”

I hand her the lipstick. “It’s Glossier Ultralip in trench.”

“My turn,” Marisol says, scooting closer to me. I shift toward her. “While I have your focused attention: Can you please tell us what is up with you and Isaiah?”

I start to apply some primer to Marisol’s smooth skin. “Funny you should ask. I actually just found out something pretty interesting.”

Sophie’s eyes go big. “Spill!”

“Well, you both know how I’ve always said Isaiah was my enemy because he totally blew me off for our date in middle school . . .”

“Of course. The worst,” Sophie says.

“As it turns out, he didn’t blow me off. He was actually there. We were apparently at different entrances,” I explain. “So this whole time he thought I ghosted him, and I thought he ghosted me, when we were both actually committed to that date.”

“Why didn’t you text each other?!” Marisol asks, as if in disbelief.

I shake my head. “I didn’t have a phone! We couldn’t afford a cell phone back then.”

Marisol puts her hand on her cheek. “This is way too tragic for me.”

“It is super sad!” Sophie frowns, sticking out her bottom lip. “Zay-Zay! And Whit-Whit! Just two wholesome little babies thinking the other didn’t want them.” She turns to Marisol. “You didn’t know him then, but he had these sweet little puppy- dog eyes that would just make you melt.”

“Okay, staaaahp!” Marisol whines. “I’m depressed.”

“I feel totally awful.” I let out a sigh. “Especially because . . .”

“B ecause what?” Marisol presses.

“Well, because a few weeks ago, he told me this really cute story about a Halloween party he threw when we were in sixth grade. Do you remember that, Soph?”

“Oh my gosh, yes! We bobbed for apples and I won.”

“Clearly the highlight,” Marisol teases.

Sophie grins. “It absolutely was. But go on, Whit.”

“Isaiah told me he sort of threw the party to impress me. Because he liked me.” I put my hand over my heart. “Is that not the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Okay, gross. Isaiah is, like, some kind of walking rom- com lead, because this doesn’t even sound real,” Marisol says, shaking her head. “First of all, the man is foine. Those. Cakes!”

“Sol!” Sophie cackles.

“Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I can’t look. And believe me, when it comes to Isaiah Ortiz, I do. So he’s, like, nex t-level hot, but also super smart and funny and kind and also, at twelve years old, the most romantic dude on the planet?” Marisol looks me square in the eye. “When are you going to nail him down?”

“He’s into Destiny,” I remind her.

Marisol arches an eyebrow at me. “But you also want to get into his pants, right?”

I shove her a little. “Oh my God!” She throws her head back and laughs. “But, I mean. Yeah.”

“Whit wants to get her hands on those cakes!” Sophie shouts.

“She’s coming for you, Zay-Zay,” Marisol coos. “Get that butt ready!”

We laugh until our stomachs hurt, and our makeup is smudging, and every time we look at each other, we dissolve into giggles aga in— at nothing and at everything, and right now, I swear I’m using my whole heart to savor every beautiful silly second with these beautiful silly humans.