12. Maxine
CHAPTER 12
maxine
T he morning of my party, I got the biggest surprise; my friends came from California. I started crying when I saw them. “David flew us here in his private plane,” Melissa said.
“That plane is off the charts,” Marla added. And that said a lot because she was not one to be impressed by money. “Let’s go swimming before the caterers show up.”
L aughter echoed across the pool as Tabby tossed her pink-streaked hair over her shoulder. "You can't be serious. He actually said that?"
"Word for word." Melissa was sprawled on the lounge chair next to me, adjusting her sunglasses. "Like anyone believes he made varsity on pure talent."
"Speaking of pure talent"—Marla wiggled her eyebrows at me—"when were you going to tell us about you and Sebastian?"
I nearly choked on my lemonade. "What?"
"Oh, please." Tabby rolled onto her stomach, fixing me with her signature knowing look. "The lingering glances? The 'study sessions' that go on for hours? We're not blind, Max. Every time we call or Facetime you, he is always in the background just watching you. He looks at you like you hung the moon or something. So don’t tell me there isn’t anything going on because I’m calling bullshit on that one."
"It's not like that," I protested but felt my cheeks heating. "He's helping me with company stuff."
"Mhmm." Melissa smirked. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"
“Yeah right, that’s all it is,” Brooklyn said rolling her eyes.
"You guys are impossible." I splashed water at them from the pool's edge, grateful when Mom appeared and told us we needed to start getting ready.
"I’m so glad you girls were able to make it to Maxine’s party. It wouldn't have been the same without y'all.” Something in her voice sounded strained. She'd been acting weird all day, jumping at small noises, watching the entrance to the pool area like she was expecting someone.
I closed my eyes, thinking of Dad. Of the mysterious numbers in his ledger. Of Sebastian's warm eyes when he promised we'd figure it all out. The way my name sounded when Sebastian said it, causing a million butterflies to flutter around in my stomach.
"So"—Marla leaned in as Mom hurried back inside—"what did tall, dark, and brooding get you for your birthday?"
"Nothing yet." I tried to keep my voice casual. "We're not really?—"
"Oh my god!" Tabby sat up suddenly. "Speaking of Sebastian..."
He was walking toward us, carrying a small, wrapped package. My heart fluttered ridiculously in my chest.
"Ladies"—he nodded to my friends, but his eyes were on me—"sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to catch you before dinner."
Melissa kicked me under the table. I ignored her.
"Happy birthday, Max." He held out the gift, his fingers brushing mine as I took it. "It's not much but..."
Inside was a delicate silver chain with a small key pendant. My breath caught—it was identical to the one in Dad's old photos, the one he always wore with his locket.
"Sebastian..." I looked up at him, and an understanding passed between us. This wasn't just a birthday gift. It was a message. A clue.
"Okay, that's it." Tabby threw her hands up. "You two need to stop being so adorably mysterious and just kiss already."
"Tabby!" I scolded, but I was laughing, even as my cheeks burned.
"I should go." Sebastian's lips twitched. "I have some things to take care of before the party."
After he left, my friends pounced.
"Spill. Everything. Now," Melissa demanded.
"There's nothing to spill." I fiddled with the key pendant, my mind racing. What had Dad hidden? What secrets did this unlock?
"Your face says otherwise." Tabby poked my arm. "Come on, Max. We've been friends since first grade, you think we can't tell when you're keeping secrets?"
If they only knew. The weight of everything Sebastian and I had discovered pressed against my chest. The financial discrepancies. Mom's strange behavior. The accident that might not have been an accident at all.
"I just"—I swallowed hard—"things are complicated right now."
"Hey." Marla's voice softened as she reached for my hand. "You know you can tell us anything, right? We're here for you. No matter what."
"Always," Melissa added. "Even if you are secretly dating your stupidly hot stepbrother."
"I'm not—" I started to protest, but Tabby cut me off.
"Please. The sexual tension between you two is thicker than my AP Calc textbook."
"You don't even take AP Calc," I pointed out, grateful for the chance to change subjects.
"Semantics." She waved dismissively. "The point is, whatever's going on with you two—and don't try to say it's nothing—we've got your back."
I looked at my friends—really looked at them. Tabby with her wild hair and wilder heart. Melissa's quiet strength. Marla's unfailing loyalty. What would they say if they knew the truth? About Mom and David, about what Sebastian and I suspected?
"Thanks, guys." I managed a smile. "Really. I just need some time to figure things out."
"Well, figure faster." Melissa tossed a piece of cake at me. "The suspense is killing us."
If they only knew what real suspense felt like. What real danger looked like.
I touched the key pendant again, thinking about the meaningful look Sebastian gave me. Whatever secrets this unlocked, whatever truths we uncovered, at least I knew I was not alone. I had him. I had Brooklyn. And I had these three ridiculous, wonderful friends who would still stand by me even if they knew everything.
"So"—Tabby grinned wickedly—"should we start planning the wedding now, or...?"
That time, I dunked her in the pool.
Some secrets could wait. For now, I let myself laugh with my friends, pretending this was just another birthday, just another normal day. But the key burned against my skin, a constant reminder of what was to come.
Tomorrow, Sebastian and I would follow this new lead. Tomorrow, we'd get one step closer to the truth about Dad's death.
But today? Today I was just a girl celebrating my birthday with her best friends, trying my best to ignore the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Even if those clouds were starting to look an awful lot like my mother's guilty conscience.
The late summer air buzzed with activity, as caterers moved through our sprawling ranch's backyard. It had been transformed into something out of a fairytale. Mom had outdone herself—thousands of fairy lights twinkled in the ancient oak trees, white linen tablecloths gleamed under crystal centerpieces, and the air was heavy with the scent of gardenias and jasmine.
I stood at my bedroom window, watching the final preparations below. Dad's locket felt warm against my skin as I fiddled with it, remembering how he used to twirl me around on my birthday, calling me his ‘ pequena princesa’ .
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. "Max?" Mom's voice carried through the door. "Can I come in?"
She swept in wearing an emerald silk dress that made her copper hair glow. She took in my outfit, probably making sure I wore what she picked out for me. "Oh, honey..." She touched the white dress I wore, smoothing an invisible wrinkle. "You look exactly like your father right now—with the same quiet strength."
"Mom, don't," I said softly, though my eyes stung. "It’s not like you're missing him; you already moved on."
"Maxine, that's not fair," she said. She pulled me close, her familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla wrapping around me. "My baby is nineteen. I wish your father were here to see this,” she said bitterly. I didn’t know if she was feeling bittersweet or sentimental about the situation.
A throat cleared from the doorway. David stood there in his tailored suit, looking uncomfortable as always during emotional moments. "The guests are arriving. Happy birthday, Maxine."
Before the moment could grow more awkward, Brooklyn burst into the room with a whirlwind of pink tulle and excitement. "Finally!" She linked her arm through mine, practically bouncing. "Now we can actually go clubbing together! No more fake IDs!"
"Brooklyn!" David scolded, but there was amusement in his voice.
"What? Like you didn't know." She rolled her eyes, then whispered to me, "Sebastian's already downstairs. He almost doesn’t look like himself in that suit."
Heat crept up my neck. As if summoned by her words, Sebastian appeared in the doorway behind his father. The black suit he wore fit him perfectly, and his dark eyes found mine immediately, making everything else fade a little.
"Happy birthday, Maxine," he said quietly, his hand brushing mine as he passed me a folded note. The touch lingered a moment too long, the spark between us impossible to ignore—even though everyone pretended not to notice."
Jace's arrival broke the tension. "There's my favorite birthday girl!" He swept in with precariously balanced champagne flutes in his hands. "Here's to adulthood, Max. Try not to waste it all by being responsible." I turned and saw Brooklyn looking at Jace, her cheeks blushed. Jace looked at her the same way. Hmm, a new development or something I missed in my grief? Either way, I would be grilling her about it later.
"Time for the grand entrance!" Mom declared, dabbing at her eyes. She squeezed my hand. "Just like we practiced at the rehearsal."
I followed them but paused at the top of the grand staircase. Below, a hundred or so guests waited. The cream of Texas society mixed with ranch hands who'd known me since birth. The contradiction would have made Dad laugh.
"Ladies and gentlemen." David's voice carried across the crowd. "Please welcome the woman of the hour, Maxine Perez."
Mom raised her glass, her voice thick with emotion as she said, "To my beautiful daughter, who grows more like her father every day. Carlos would be so proud of the woman you've become."
I clutched Dad's locket, fighting back tears as I surveyed my complicated, beautiful family. Mom beaming with pride, David's awkward but genuine smile, Brooklyn's infectious excitement, Jace's brotherly affection. And Sebastian... Sebastian's gaze held something deeper, something that made nineteen feel like both an ending and a beginning.
The string quartet began to play, and the night stretched on, full of possibilities and unspoken promises. Wherever he was, I hoped Dad was watching and knew that his little girl was all grown up but still holding onto every lesson he'd taught me.
As I descended the stairs, Sebastian stepped forward, offering his hand. "May I have this dance?" Heat crept up my neck. The black suit he wore fit him perfectly, and his dark eyes found mine immediately, making everything else fade slightly.
Taking his hand felt like crossing a threshold, like stepping into a future that was both thrilling and terrifying. Behind us, I heard Brooklyn's knowing giggle, felt Mom's worried gaze, and caught David's slight frown. In that moment, though, with Sebastian's hand warm in mine and the music swelling around us, none of it mattered.
The night was young; I was nineteen, and anything felt possible.