Chapter Thirty-Six

What am I supposed to do with myself now?

That boy waltzes up to my house, brings pasteles, bonds with my little sister, dances to my favorite boy band, confirms he’s over his ex, compares my hair to a tree (but, like, in a romantic way?), touches my curls, insists I call him my old nickname for him, and then has the absolute nerve to call me Whitney.

Curse you, Isaiah Ortiz. Because how am I supposed to sleep? Or do any thing except pine with my whole being?

He hardly touched me and my entire body feels like it’s electric.

I’m pretty sure if Abuela’s Lyft hadn’t pulled into the driveway exactly when it had, Isaiah was going to say that he liked me.

And when he reached for my hair, I think he wanted to kiss me.

Or at least I wanted him to. With all my heart. I wanted Zay to pull me close and let me melt into him.

I’m a mess. I barely sleep. When morning comes, I wonder if I can avoid seeing Isaiah until my mind can catch up to the Zay- shaped hideaway my heart has run off to.

Unfortunately for my brain, it’s Thursday, so we have a scheduled Fall Fest meeting. One way or another, I’m seeing the boy I can’t stop thinking about.

That afternoon, I do my best to act normal around Zay and everyone on the committee. I can’t lose focus on the Fall Fest— not when it’s right here.

So, without fanfare, Isaiah and I return to our regular banter. We give an overview of final tasks. We hand out assignments.

We review feedback, including a motion from Everly McDonnell to add a photo booth to the carnival. (Her aunt has a wedding photo booth business, so she has an in. Easy.) We review plans with Ms. Bennett. I call him Isaiah. He calls me Whit.

Before long, the meeting’s over, and I’m rushing to a shift at Nature’s Grocer, and Isaiah is scrambling to his tutoring gig.

It’s almost like we can ignore the thing that nearly happened on the veranda.

Almost.

My weekend gets swallowed alive by work— first at the grocery store, and the next day at Abuela’s shop, where I’ve been seriously slacking lately. In fact, I need to spend the whole day updating the books because of it. But that’s okay. In the back room, I can avoid classmates I don’t feel like talking to as they come and pick up the dresses and suits Abuela has tailored for them.

Homecoming and prom season make lots of work at El Coquí. It’s a full load for Abuela, Lily, and me, and the only respite comes the next day Lily and I have the day off from school for Indigenous Peoples’ Day when we’re on the hunt for formal wear.

“I’m so sorry we haven’t gotten around to shopping until now, nenas,” Abuela says as she drives us across town. “Claro, I would’ve just made you something myself if it wasn’t busy season.” She sighs.

“Don’t be sorry, Abuela. We’re going to find something today and it’ll be great,” I assure her.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” Lily echoes.

“Yo no se . . . ,” Abuela mutters, mostly to herself.

“You know what might make Abuela feel better, Lil? How about that new Intonation song?”

“On it.”

Moments later, the sounds of our favorite boy band fill the car and Abuela is tapping her hands on the steering wheel in time with the song. When Abuela’s favorite, Henry, croons with a solo, her cheeks stretch into a smile. “¡Mi cariño!”

As we pull into the shop Abuela has mentioned, Lily claps her hands in excitement. I join her, because this is exciting! It’s finally hitting me that I’ll be going to homecoming with my little sister.

The sign on the window of the store reads NEVA’ S it’s a secondhand clothing shop owned by an old friend of Abuela’s. Inside, Abuela greets Neva, a short, plump woman, in Spanish and kisses both of her cheeks. Neva has her short caramel- colored hair pulled back into a low bun, and wears mauve lipstick to match her wrap dress. They go back and forth for a minute before Neva pulls out measuring tape and tugs at the shoulder of my pea coat.

“Off,” she instructs.

I look over to Abuela, who shoots me a look that says I’d best not argue. I shrug off my jacket and hand it to Abuela, letting Neva take her measurements of my body. She does the same for Lily and then starts buzzing around the store, draping items over her forearms.

“Doesn’t she need to know what we like?” I ask.

Abuela shakes her head. “Not yet. She does measurements and then picks things she thinks will work. If you’re not happy, she lets you browse. But people are rarely unhappy with what she chooses.”

The three of us watch as Neva starts fitting rooms for me and for Lily. She motions us over once she’s collected a few items for us each to try on.

I slip into the first item Neva has hung— an A-line, off-theshou lder dress in lilac. I like it except for these tufts of fabric that are intended to loop around my upper arms as if to say, Please ignore this fat part right here.

The second option I nix almost immediately. It’s a lovely shade of sage but the cut is not for me.

It’s the third dress I love: a sleeveless ball gown with beaded lace appliqué reminiscent of old Hollywood. The color of white magnolias, the tulle stretches to the floor. It makes me feel like a princess.

I open the door and step out of the dressing room to show Abuela. Her gasp is as big as her heart, her brown eyes going wide. “¡Que bella! Turn around,” she says, twirling her fingers in a circular motion. When I do, she chants, “Model! Model!”

I laugh and turn toward the three-way m irror to take in my reflection. It does look good on me, a kiss of winter in a gown.

Neva comes up behind me and unclasps the clip that’s holding my messy bun. My hair cascades down my back and I reach up to fluff the curls. Neva disappears and returns with long sapphire- colored gemstone drop earrings and a matching barrette, which she uses to pin back the hair on the left side of my face.

“You like?” she asks.

I hold up the earrings, admiring my reflection, and nod. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

A pleased smile comes across Neva’s face, and she goes over to Lily’s door to check on her. Abuela comes up to me in the mirror and helps straighten the bottom of the dress.

“Do you really like it?” she asks, keeping her voice low.

“I like it,” I say firmly with a nod.

What I don’t say: This dress is lovely in all the right ways and I should absolutely adore it, but it doesn’t feel like the One. It checks all the right boxes, though: it’s affordable, it fits, and it makes me feel pretty. So it’s good; great, even. Just not perfect. You know? And even though I’ve been trying to focus less on perfection, part of me still secretly hoped to find it in a homecoming dress. Abuela squeezes my shoulder. “Bueno.”

Neva’s voice interrupts us. “Mira.”

We turn toward her and she pulls open the door to Lily’s dressing room. Out Lily steps in a plu m- colored two -piece velvet suit. With a simple collared white shirt beneath the jacket, the pant legs cuffed once, and her short, curly hair held in the same clip Neva used for my own hair, a few tendrils framing her face, she is transformed.

Abuela gasps once more at the sight of Lily, and tears spring to my own eyes. Sweet Liliana Margaret Rivera looks so grown-up.

“Lily, you look beautiful,” I choke out.

At the crack in my voice, Abuela rushes over to me and swats at my arm. “You don’t cry! Now I’ll cry.” And she wipes at her own eyes.

“Guys,” Lily whines.

“You just look so

I nod, taking Abuela’s hand in mine. “This suit is perfect.”

Lily looks down. “Think Ruby will like it?”

“She’ll it, mija.” Abuela reaches for Lily’s hand with her free one, pulling her to where we’re standing.

We look up at our reflections in the mirror, my eyes still wet with tears, and just like that, the Rivera girls are ready for Fall Fest.

That night, I find myself thinking of all the reasons Fall Fest is so special to me. I thought I had a sense of it when I originally made it such a huge part of my vision for senior year and let’s be rea l— my identity. But I realize now that my fervor for this dance boils down to something simple: love.

It was love that brought Abuela and Abuelo together on that night and made us a family. Though our tiny three-person family is probably not what Abuela had ever envisioned, it’s ours.

So maybe I want to start focusing on the love I’m fortunate enough to have in my life.

I use a fresh page to list the five most important people in my life right now.

I want to find one meaningful gift for them between now and homecoming. And, for the first time in my life, I have the money to make it happen.

Because we went secondhand for my dress and Neva gave us a great deal, it was much cheaper than I thought it would be and Abuela insisted on paying. All I’d been saving from Nature’s Grocer can now be given back to those who mean the most to me. I’ll use some of it on my people and the rest will go back to Abuela to help us build a cushion so perhaps she doesn’t have to work so much.

I fill each page in my notebook with possible ideas. By the end of the night, I’ve narrowed my list down.

For Lily, I want to track down a pair of earrings that match what Lucas was wearing in her favorite music video. They’re silver, gem- encrusted snakes. When Lily first saw them, she flipped out over how cool they were. In the music video, Lucas wore only one earring, so a pair will be enough for Lily and Ruby to share. Sentimental and romantic.

For Abuela, I order the same Intonation T- shir t that Lily and I already own. More importantly, I vow to give her a day off. She deserves time to rest more than anyone, especially after this busy season. I’ll work with her sisters to gift her a day of pampering, and I’ll happily request the time off work and run El Coquí that day.

For Marisol and Sophie, I commission a hig h- qua lityprint of one of the photos a generous stranger took of us at the Knoll. As we were posing, I tripped and the three of us burst into laughter. Even though we weren’t perfectly posed, the person who took our photo took our picture anyway, and I’m so glad they did. This is one of my favorites.

Lastly, for Zay, using all the courage I can muster, I decide that I’ll give him his big, public proposal.

I just need a little help to make everything happen.