The Quince Project

Chapter Fourteen

Half of the crowd hunkered in front of a big screen, chattering. Some lounged on beach chairs or beanbags. Others were propped on their elbows, sprawled over colorful beach towels.

More gathered at the far end of the makeshift viewing area for the Movies at the Beach, forming lines in front of different food carts. My mouth watered at the cucumber slices and pineapple spears swimming in plastic bags half-filled with lime juice and chamoy. Whiffs of buttered popcorn and churros wafted over me.

For a minute, I was transported to Disneyland with Paulina.

When the scent of onions sizzling on a grill reached me, I was back at the fundraiser with Po.

Before I looked around for Javi, I tugged the phone from my back pocket. I snapped a panoramic photo, saving it to the SBA Event Ideas album.

We had gone over details of the art auction fundraiser earlier today but hadn’t picked an overarching theme yet. Would something movie-related like this work?

Display the student artwork like film posters outside a theater. Screen a movie inside the auditorium to raise more cash. And by having concession stands—including Po’s hot dogs—we could triple the intake.

I jotted everything down in my planner when my phone buzzed with a text.

I see you.

I spun around. Little kids darted between the seating area and the food vendors. More people streamed in from all corners of the beach. Then, against the backdrop of the silver screen and darkening sky, came Javi.

Light from phone screens caught on his lifeguard shorts and hoodie. On the Mickey Mouse sling bag he wore as a cross-body. Mickey’s smile was big, but it didn’t compare to Javi’s.

Or mine.

“Castle Towers. You came.”

“I did.” From my backpack, I retrieved the bundle of folded flags, wrapped neatly in a bow. “Thanks for letting me borrow them. Because of your Mr. Clean tips, most of the drawings came out.”

“That’s good for my boss. But sucks for you. You’re a great artist.” During the handover, his fingers grazed mine. Sparks went off in their wake.

“Was an artist.” Talking about my past hobby turned the sparks into stings. Then again, wasn’t practicing talking about the past one of the reasons I’d come?

“‘After Mom’”—I made air quotes—“I had a visceral reaction to how unruly watercolors could be. All those ways to ruin a blank white page?” Bitterness exploded in my mouth. “No thanks.”

“Funny how while you stopped something old”—he motioned to his lifeguard uniform—“I took up something new.” He scratched at the sling bag’s strap. “‘After Dad’”—he mirrored my air quotes—“I researched every med school in SoCal, thinking I could apply and get in.” He gave a brittle laugh. The briny breeze snatched most of it away. “Turns out med schools don’t accept people who can’t operate a motor vehicle yet. Or suck at math.” He shrugged. “But that desire to try to save someone stuck.”

Even though I was trying to save something instead of someone, I understood completely.

“I signed up for Junior Lifeguards as the next-best thing.” Javi traced the outline of Mickey’s smile as if to make his own reappear.

“Ah. Now it makes sense why you helped me yesterday.” Po had been right about him. “A damsel in distress is catnip for a knight in shining armor.”

Javi’s fingers left Mickey’s smile. He waved his arms around us. “If this turned into a fantasy realm, I’d be more of a knight in rusted armor.” He poked the tip of his finger through a tiny hole at the side of his hoodie.

Together, we giggled.

“And even if you were in distress, you’re no damsel.”

“Oh, no?” I perked up, touched that he recognized my ability to bibbidi-bobbidi-boo myself out of a fiasco. Hopefully Mandy would, too. “What am I, then?”

Hearing someone call me fairy godmother out loud would make it feel more real.

“You’re the castle towers, obviously.” His face brightened when he said it.

Yes…Maybe Mom didn’t name me after a specific castle but castle-like qualities.

The ability to weather all storms. To use every stone thrown my way to stand even higher. And to host fabulous parties.

“Yes,” I said.

Javi extended an elbow. Good, because the castle realization had left me dizzy.

“Let’s get to our spot before the movie starts,” he said.

The clouds shifted, covering a crescent moon. Any makeshift aisles were suddenly snuffed out by the dark. I squinted to see through the maze of beach towels and chairs, not to mention the throngs of people rushing back to their groups.

In the darkness, it was easy for bodies to jostle against each other. Easier still for feet to catch on the edges of chair legs and bags. For snacks to slip from hands. For sodas to geyser from cups.

The enchanting scent of his lavender shampoo had nothing to do with me huddling closer to Javi. I only wished to avoid a repeat of yesterday’s soaking, obviously.

“It’s just over here,” he said.

My heart pounded as hard as it had yesterday. Maybe more. Because while yesterday Javi had been driving the scooter, I’d been directing the route. Tonight, Javi did both, steering me around beach chairs and people spread out on towels, escorting me to a destination unknown.

I didn’t “offer” any tips this time. I simply enjoyed the ride.

“We’re here,” he said, stopping at the edge of a large beach towel.

The night sky did nothing to dull its red and purple stripes. Or the symmetrical lines that formed diamond patterns and glyphs between them. The snacks he’d arranged in the middle of the towel were no joke, either.

A huge tub of popcorn served as the centerpiece. Kernels glistened with butter. Seasoned mango spears shimmered from inside a plastic baggie.

Even without any silverware to be found, I had a flashback to Angie’s table settings. Only now, instead of Javi and Cas in cursive script on fancy place cards, our names were printed across white stickers on Starbucks cups. Despite the condensation dripping down the sides, most of the letters were legible.

He smiled, putting the dimple on display. “If we have another liquid mishap, this combo of letters can’t come close to the ‘anagram’ we formed yesterday.”

“Don’t you mean ‘anusgram’?” I cracked up. If Po could see me flirting!

With a laugh-snort, Javi flopped onto the blanket. I joined him, leaning toward the screen. “I haven’t seen this movie before, but I know the basics. Great White terrorizes small town.” I covered my mouth. “Oops. Did I spoil it for you?”

“Nope. It’s one of my favorites.”

“A lifeguard who loves a killer-shark movie? I don’t know if that makes you one of the bravest junior lifeguards or one of the worst.” I took an exaggerated gulp of water.

“Wow. You really went there, huh?” he asked.

“You did almost drown me.”

He snickered, swishing the ice cubes in his cup. “Not on purpose. And sorry to burst your bubble, but Jaws isn’t about a killer shark. I mean, it is on the surface, I guess. Underneath the ‘waters,’ though, it’s really about a guy trying to save his family.”

“Not like I know exactly what that feels like,” I said.

Javi traced the patch stitched onto his uniform. “Like I TMI-ed you earlier, yeah, me neither.” He laughed. “Which I hope you didn’t mind, by the way. My best friend thinks I ‘have a tendency to overshare.’”

I shook my head. Sure, it was sorta comical to air some of our dirty laundry with a bundle of fresh flags between us. It also felt weirdly good to air it—period. “I think I’m starting to prefer oversharing—at least about ‘After’ topics,” I said, making air quotes again. “Versus no sharing.”

I tried to keep the barbs from my voice when I added, “The latter’s the approach my dad and Po—until recently and only sparingly—take when it comes to talking about Mom.”

“I’m sorry,” Javi said. Whether he meant my loss, not being able to process it with my family, or both, I couldn’t tell. He said something about how important it is for him to honor his dad’s memory.

“I’m happy you’re able to do that. Does your mom also—” My throat constricted, making it impossible to get more words out. What if Dad could never get on board with me wanting to talk about Mom? With me wanting to keep her alive in our house somewhere other than hallway frames?

Javi didn’t press when I stayed quiet. Instead, he slid my cup of water closer.

I took a much-needed sip. When I changed the direction of the convo, he went along with it. “Um, so does the guy in the movie… end up saving his family?”

“You’re going to have to wait to find out,” he said.

“Nope.” Tonight’s plan involved dropping off the flags. Chatting a bit. Leaving before the movie started so I could prep some Paulina-related items ahead of tomorrow’s rehearsal. “Tell me what happens.”

He shook his head. “First off, no spoilers. Secondly, maybe the attempt to save them is more important than the actual rescue.”

“If you’re on shift the next time I visit lifeguard station eighteen, please remind me not to get into the water.”

“So there is going to be a next time?” His lips twitched with a smile. “I was going to wait until later to ask, but now that we’re on the topic…”

“Like you said yourself, ‘no spoilers.’” I grabbed a piece of popcorn and threw it at him. He grabbed the kernel and dunked it back into the tub. Who knew flirting was an activity way more fun to do than just observe it from the sidelines? “If I’m going to have to wait to see if this dude saves his family, so are you.”

Javi’s smile dialed up higher than Mickey’s. Trying to hide the size of my own, I dropped my gaze to the towel. Focused on it until brain functions resumed.

Hmm. Not terry cloth. But a sturdier material that was at the same time more delicate.

As if reading my thoughts, he said, “It’s Guatemalan textile.” He brushed his fingers over some of the fabric’s diamond-shaped embroidery.

I mirrored his movements. The different patterns and shapes reminded me of an ancient language. Was it? “It’s beautiful.”

“My dad brought it back from his…” He breathed in, his exhale barely audible over the commotion of the crowd and the crashing surf. “His last trip there.”

Once more, the conversation traveled from the shallow end of a pool to teetering over the edge of the Mariana Trench. He looked ready to dive in.

A little more prepared to join him, I sucked in some air and said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“I’m two years in.” My eyes stung. “Does it ever get easier?”

“Oof.” The weight of the question hunched him over. Perhaps the weight kept pressing, because he brought the bundle of flags under his head, using it as a makeshift pillow.

I did the same with my backpack, lying down next to him. Dark purple clouds streaked the mottled blue sky. If I watercolored this blackness overhead, the page would look like a giant bruise. “I’m taking your silence means no.”

I’d suspected as much. Sometimes the hole in my chest didn’t feel Mom-size—it spanned the length of the Milky Way. How could carrying something that massive ever get less arduous?

“It’s been four years, and no, not really.” His voice was as thin as tissue paper. “I’m really close to my mom. Dad used to say I inherited the gift of gab from her, so we talk about everything.”

Like Mom and I used to.

“When we don’t feel like talking,” he said, “we’ll binge telenovelas or K-dramas.”

“Mom and I would do the same thing, but with rom-coms or Disney movies.” A huge stab of loss went through me, except… I couldn’t help but smile at his good fortune. “That’s so awesome you have her.”

“I know. My best friend is also super supportive. I don’t know if having both of them around is like constantly being strapped to a life vest or that time-heals-all-wounds crap is true, but…” He rubbed at the Mickey appliqué, not unlike Aladdin coaxing Genie from the lamp to make everything better. “Weirdly, parts of it do get less hard. I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

It didn’t. So I stayed silent. Kept my face fixed toward the sky. Some of the clouds were shifting enough for stars to emerge.

“That’s Polaris,” Javi said, pointing straight up. “Did you know it takes three hundred and twenty-three years for its light to travel to Earth?”

My stomach twisted. “Great. For all we know it could be already dead.”

The night sky was a massive graveyard. I closed my eyes, keeping back tears. Keeping the sight of these massive things seemingly burning with life—but weren’t—away. Apparently nowhere was safe.

No. Not true. Special events and parties were safe spaces. They celebrated life and the living. No loss for miles there.

“Some stars explode. Some simply fade away. In the end, they are like us, I guess.” The bundle of flags rustled as he shifted his body toward mine. “Just because something—or someone—passes doesn’t mean their light doesn’t shine on.”

After a beat of silence, a small smile tugged at my lips. Maybe it was his words sinking in. Maybe it was that more clouds shifted, more stars emerged. The Big Dipper. And right above it, the smaller but no less twinkly lights of the Little Dipper.

A Big Spoon and Little Cuchara.

Warmth poured over me, filling some of the hollowness inside my chest. The void left by Mom’s absence didn’t feel so cavernous anymore. The sky didn’t feel as vast in its infinite sadness.

Not when it was capable of sparkling against so much darkness.

I reached for my cup. Ice cubes glinted inside like jewels on a tiara. “To starlight,” I said.

“And summer nights.”

We clinked our cups together and took synchronized chugs.

Whoops and applause boomed from the crowd as the images hit the screen and the movie’s soundtrack floated around us. For the briefest moment, I pretended they cheered for me trying to keep sparkling against the dark… cheered for the Pinterest board and sketches flashing inside my head.

A belle of the ball making her grand entrance with a swoon-worthy plus-one. Only, it wasn’t Paulina or Angie. Or any of the other classmates on my potential-client list. The person under the spotlights, gliding under a swirl of glitter confetti, was me.

For the first time, I imagined what it would be like if I were the girl of the hour instead of the person planning her every minute. My hands itched for the crook of Javi’s elbow again. Instead of my fingers skimming his hoodie, I pretended they brushed the satiny finish of a chambelán’s tux.

I caught an ice cube between my teeth. Biting down, the crunch burst my fantasy. A laugh so small slipped out that Javi didn’t hear it. Who was I kidding?

All I wanted was to keep marching down the fairy godmother path. For a second, though, it’d felt nice to walk in a princess’s glass slippers.