The Quince Project

Chapter Sixteen

“Hola and hello, everyone. It’s Paulina!”

Was she smiling wider now than in her previous vlogs?

“If I’m extra bubbly, it’s because today I’m kicking off my Very Merry Unquince Series.” Her mouth formed a perfect O.

If she wanted her viewers to witness the definition of genuine shock, Paulina simply needed to flip the selfie stick over to me. Or Po. Not Javi.

Why was he grinning? Putting that infuriating dimple on display, business as usual?

“I’m starting off with a sneak peek of dance rehearsal. First, let me introduce you to my chambelán.” She pulled Javi into the frame. He gave a huge wave, seeming very comfortable in front of the camera.

Here, I’d assumed he only liked to watch spectacles—not star in them. In the role of Prince Charming to Paulina’s Sith princess, no less. The nerve of this dude.

“Say hi, Javier,” Paulina said.

“Hi, Javier.” He laugh-snorted at his own joke. The ridiculous sound cooled my anger, at least for a second.

“This clown and I’ve known each other since forever. My mom—” She lowered the selfie stick, dropping her mask in the process. She wiggled her jaw side to side. “Going to edit that part out. Ready, Baymoon?”

He nodded. Paulina lifted the camera (and her frown) and said, “Our parents probably always envisioned my quincea?era as a dress rehearsal for our wedding or something. Cute, huh?” She giggled.

Po cocked her head at me, like she also noticed Paulina’s laughter sounded too forced to be true. Then again, who knew what was and wasn’t real with her?

Or with “Baymoon.”

I dropped my gaze to my loafers. Like I could call their kettles black.

“And this is Castillo Torres.” Paulina pointed the camera toward me.

I managed a feeble wave. Not the impression I wanted to make for my first advertising shot. “My lovely quincea?era planner and hashtag-chingona interning at M—”

Po coughed super loudly. Mimed a zipper motion across her lips. Paulina lowered the selfie stick.

Thank you, Big Spoon. What a massive spike and block. No wonder Po helmed the volleyball squad.

“Everything okay?” Paulina asked.

Javi grabbed the iced mocha off the bleachers and extended it to Po. “Need something to drink?”

Po crossed her arms, refusing to take it. Paulina arched a brow.

“Um, Po’s trying to cut back on caffeine,” I said, scrunching my nose. If it didn’t grow like Pinocchio’s on this lie, it certainly would on the next. “Also, Whitmore and Associates has first-time clients sign NDAs, so. Can we ixnay on the Mandy stuff, please?”

“Ahh, of course.” Paulina face-palmed. “I should’ve known better. I’ll edit that part out before I upload. Sorry.”

Could she also edit out the last five minutes of my life? Better yet, the last two years?

“You don’t have to apologize.” I turned to Javi, glowering. But you do. “It’s my bad for not sending it yet.”

Great. Now I had to commit forgery to keep this facade going.

“Okay, guys, we’re going to practice our Darth Vader–themed paso doble. You heard that right. A. Darth. Vader. Ballroom. Dance.” This time, she didn’t playact her excitement.

It filled the gym, entrancing me enough to inch back into the camera’s frame. “It’s going to be perfect,” I said.

I’d make sure of it. Not only for the sake of her unquince, but everything else that’d follow if it went off without more complications.

“Perfect it will be,” Paulina said in a Yoda voice. “I’ll upload footage later. Until then, ‘ignite the spark.’”

“‘Light the fire,’” Javi said.

She stopped recording. Shook out her arms as if trying to fling off her YouTube persona. “Intro done, now the rehearsal. Whoops.” She face-palmed again. “I forgot the props.” She turned toward the doors. “Cas, can you please stand in for me again so Baymoon can practice?” Her tone made clear this was a command, not a request. “Po, come help me for a sec?”

Po begrudgingly followed her. But not before pointing to her eyes, then to Javi, mouthing, I’m watching you. Thankfully one of us had read the Sisterly Solidarity Handbook.

Javi’s brows creased before relaxing. “Oh, I get it.” He chuckled. “You think there’s something romantic going on with me and Paulina.” The chuckles built to belly laughs, ending with an encore of his signature snorts. “I assure you, Castle Towers, it’s not like that.” He took a step closer.

I moved backward. In the span of a few minutes, we’d gone from waltz to slow dance to tango. I shook my head, which only added to my dizziness.

I knew Javi was a jock. How had I not realized he was also a player? “Whatever, Baymoon.”

Javi opened his mouth to say something. I cut him off with my hand. “I don’t have time for an explanation.” I tugged my phone from my back pocket and texted Marcus that we were ready for him. “Let’s simply focus on the dance, okay?”

Marcus came down from the top of the bleachers, trailed by Gianna and Lee. The dramatic duo sat on the first row. Front and center for this telenovela. Great.

“Um, Gianna, Lee? This dance is a very important part of Paulina’s birthday. She was fine with letting you watch her film the intro, but she probably wants to preserve some privacy in rehearsals. There’s also the matter of minimizing video leaks before she uploads them herself, so…” I motioned to the huge exit signs over the doors.

Lee shook his head. “Marcus asked me to help with the music.”

Gianna nodded. “Plus, like I told you, I’m a huuuge Paulina fan. You have my word—I won’t post the dance.”

My jaw tensed. Interesting that she didn’t promise to not post anything else.

“Come on, Castle Towers,” Javi whispered. “She’s a fan and she promised. You could make her day.”

“Oh no. I’m not going to fall for your Mr. Nice Guy act again,” I muttered. As Po would say, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, I’ll kick your ass.

I need them to start and stop the music and take choreography notes, Marcus said.

My shoulders drooped. “Fine, but no posting,” I told Gianna.

She squealed. Marcus gave a single clap, bringing the rehearsal to order. Wait. Wasn’t that supposed to be my job?

He motioned for me and Javi to take our places. A drawn-out sigh. It sucked that Javi turned out to be a frog instead of a prince, but no toad would stop me from becoming a fairy godmother’s apprentice.

I placed a hand inside of Javi’s. At his touch, I tried my hardest not to flinch.

Or melt. Curse you, body, for betraying me.

Follow my steps,Marcus typed, holding the screen up to Javi. He gestured to Lee, who tapped something on his phone. A second later, Darth Vader’s theme song exploded from the speakers.

Javi followed Marcus’s steps as best he could. He stumbled over himself. Nearly tripped on his sandals. He let laugh-snorts loose as he attempted to get the matador steps down—all while trying to avoid trampling on my loafers.

Marcus held up his hand. The music stopped. A huge breath, then he signaled Lee to restart the track. He motioned us to begin again, shooting me a look, then said, You lead.

I side-eyed Javi, smirking. Mess with the bull, you get the horns.

I pushed off of him, spinning across the floor. Funneled all my conflicting emotions, and this chaos, into something I could control: this dance’s steps.

My arms swung wide. Legs kicked toward Javi’s nether regions. “If you don’t watch your steps, ‘Baymoon,’ Paulina can add more family jewels to her birthday tiara.”

Javi cracked up. Instead of following my next sequence, he grabbed one of my arms. Tugging me back, he said, “You keep saying that like it’s some pet name when it’s my actual name.”

I wheeled out of his grasp, shooting a fist—er, hand—over my head like Marcus demonstrated. “You said it was Javier Luna.”

“Exactly. Javier Bae-Luna.” He twirled me back in. “Luna means moon—I thought you knew Spanish.”

Although my body was no longer in motion, my mind kept spinning, trying to catch up.

“My mom’s Korean,” he continued. “She’s always advocated matriarchal alternatives to patriarchal traditions.”

Oh.

“I like seeing both of their names next to mine when I write my full name. It’s a daily reminder that Dad’s still with me.”

Ooooh.

I swallowed. Maybe I’d jumped to conclusions too quickly. I could take a page from Po, breeze off and forget embarrassing things. But I should also continue to live up to my namesake.

Stand firm. Lower drawbridges only when the guests mean you no harm.

I circled around him, head high and heart still cautious. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you asked me to the movies. Twice. When according to Paulina, y’all have been practically betrothed since infancy.”

“Our parents were friends. More like her dad was friends with my parents. Her mom’s sorta, hmm—” He tipped his chin toward the lights, as if trying to find a nicer word up there.

“A tad Mami Dearest?” I offered.

“Accurate and clever.” Javi put his dimple on display. “As far as the betrothal—”

Marcus motioned for Javi to dip me. I hated that I had to trust him to bend me backward without dropping me. His grip held sturdy and he lifted me back up gently. “Hardly,” he finished.

We stood like that for a few moments. Panting nose to nose. With no place for my eyes to run to but his big brown ones… or his lips, mere centimeters away.

The gathering speed of the instruments perfectly mimicked the wild thumping of my heart. Or maybe it was his, quickening against mine.

For the second time today, Paulina’s voice cut through everything. “Yes. That’s exactly the passion I want to bring my viewers.” She swung two lightsabers over her head. “Brava on the choreo, song, and these props, Cas.”

Po did that whistle thing with her fingers. Marcus gave me a thumbs-up. Lee jumped in with applause. But Gianna tilted her head.

Dang. Did she suspect something? I peeled myself away from Javi. Braced myself for the latest Hot Goss story to buzz from my back pocket.

Thankfully, none came. My crushing-on-the-chambelán secret was safe.

More classified info to add to the List of Things to Keep Away from Paulina.

Except—wait.

Why was Po’s lipstick smudged all over Paulina’s mouth?

And how did Paulina’s glitter eyeliner end up smeared on Po’s cheek?

Paulina’s posture went rigid when she caught me staring. She turned on one of the lightsabers. It hummed to life, casting a red glow onto her cheekbones. “Apparently we all have some explaining to do. Emergency meeting. Parking lot. Now.”

Another command from the quincezilla. Only this one, I happily obliged.