Chapter Twenty-Eight
“If I ever consider going on a cruise, remind me about The Poseidon Adventure,” I said as the movie’s credits rolled.
“It’s got a happy ending, though,” Javi said. “I thought you liked those.”
“I do and it does—for six people. And only after escaping one catastrophe after the next.” I raked a hand through my hair.
Ugh. Nearly every scene in the movie had made me do this. Too much hair grabbing—never mind the sweat-inducing chaos of the day—resulted in extra frizz.
Fine—if this mane refused to stay behind my ears, into a topknot it’d go. I grabbed a fistful of hair, twisted it up into a bun. Tried to contain it with a hair tie.
Watching me wrestle with it, Javi said, “That’s the whole point of a disaster flick, Castle Towers.”
The hair tie catapulted from my fingers. Hair tumbled across my shoulder blades. I stuck my hand into my utility bag, fishing for a spare but finding none. “That’s a thing?”
Javi nodded.
When Paulina became a director, she should direct a movie called Frizzy and Tieless. A disaster flick for the ages.
“There’s an entire genre of movies that revolves around impending and ongoing disasters,” he said.
Didn’t life already ensure a quota of bad things? Why would people want to watch more calamity unfold? “How do you know so much about this stuff, anyway? Are you going to film school like Paulina?”
Javi shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong—I love me some movies and TV. It would also be fun going to college with Pau, but I don’t know.” He took a sip of the water. “Film? Accounting like my dad?” He tracked one of the blanket’s blue stripes until it merged with a green one. “Nursing like my mom? I have no idea.”
My mouth gaped open like Flounder. For a moment, I was as voiceless as his bestie, Ariel.
“What?” he asked through a chuckle. “Is not having the details hammered out yet a crime or something?”
I’d had my hospitality major and PR minor picked out since After Mom. “In the eyes of a future planner, it’s a capital offense.”
“Before you report me to the authorities, need I remind you that we’ve got lots of time before applying?”
“Um, sir, we have a little over a year!”
“My point exactly. ‘Over a year’ is a long time. I’ll figure it out.”
I dropped my gaze to my lap. Time slowed to a crawl After Mom. The Torres family’s dark tunnel seemed to stretch endlessly. Ergo my attempts at fast-tracking us out of it. I pushed another fistful of hair behind my ear.
Javi pulled at his hoodie’s drawstring. “By the looks of it, I suspect this rebel-without-a-major-yet is a problema for you.”
His agenda was light-years ahead of Po’s “Hakuna Matata” life philosophy. But not having his future 100 percent mapped out wasn’t ideal, either. “It’s, um—”
Truth was, if my true identity got out, I’d have a much bigger problem at hand than this frizz so… Shouldn’t I make some allowances? “It’s only a bit of an issue.”
Javi clutched his chest in faux hurt. “Well, I’m hoping it’s one that can be solved.”
Same here, same here.
He removed the hoodie string, handing it over. “For what it’s worth, I like it curly. You look uncomfortable wearing it like that, so here ya go. It’s yours if you need it.”
For so long, I’d been the one doing the rescuing that being on the receiving end of help disarmed me.
The helping hand, paired with the conversation we were having, made me want to break the what-they-don’t-know-won’t-hurt-them pact I’d made with Po.
Javi was a compassionate person. Wouldn’t he have sympathy for my devilish ways—especially if I told him the entire story. I tied my hair up with the string. “Javi, I need to tell you something.”
He gave me his full attention.”What is it?”
Breathe. If things started to go south, simply scuttle back to the shallow end, no harm done. “It’s a cautionary tale. A PSA on the dangers of not hammering out the details.” And hopefully, a solution to my Pinocchio problem.
I told him how after the funeral, Po and Dad became intent on throwing a last-minute quince. His mantra became something like This party is what our family needs right now. While she played the ultimate trump card: It’s what Mom would’ve wanted.
In their rush, they’d ordered a banner from someone who didn’t understand the ramifications of a missing tilde.
My chin quivered throughout the next part of the story. I expected to feel the stab of embarrassment that accompanied it, but Javi’s face remained free of judgment, free of horror.
He just kept listening.
“I’ve never admitted this to anyone before—” First with Callie, now this. Apparently, Mandy’s stylus-wand had spellbound me with some type of Mom confession charm. “But as horrible as the party turned out, it also felt like a fitting punishment for celebrating a milestone without her.”
“General survivor’s guilt,” he said. Must google the term later. “I felt it whenever I’d go swimming without my dad. When I first started to use these, too.” He bunched a portion of the blanket between his hands. He let go and tugged his sling bag closer. Skated a thumb across Mickey’s smile. “Have you felt it after experiencing other important moments?”
“No.” I squirmed on the blanket. “I haven’t celebrated anything big since Po’s party.”
Night air goose-bumped my limbs. After Po’s quince, I had celebrated momentous occasions—for other people.
Never for myself.
Was being a planner a way for me to experience important moments sans the guilt of doing so without Mom by my side?
I covered my legs with the blanket and kept going. Told him about how the video of the banner made the rounds on Hot Goss. “Details matter. Plans matter.”
He nodded, like my story made sense. Like he was taking it all to heart. “Is the moral of the story that I need to pick a major by the end of summer in order for us to keep dating?”
Us. To. Keep. Dating.
Butterflies in the stomach? More like butterflies in the entire body.
Would they fly away the deeper I waded into the truth? Then again, it didn’t feel right to keep building our relationship with fantasy either.
The movie’s last title card scrolled across the screen. The high casualty count flashed behind my eyelids. Even if Javi and I survived the fallout, it didn’t guarantee that Paulina and Po would.
“Fake it till you make it” it is.
“A major is preferred but not necessary,” I said, unable to shake my conscience.
“Should we get going?” Javi asked, gesturing to my night-chilled skin. “It’s getting pretty cold.”
“I should get home before I turn into a pumpkin.”
“Or freeze like Olaf.” He rubbed my arms, attempting to warm them. They didn’t. “While we pack up, tell me what you liked most about the movie.”
I rose, glancing at the empty screen. “Watching characters take charge and kick ass in the face of impending doom was weirdly cathartic.” We gathered the empty In-N-Out trays and wrappers. “I mean, they had to work together to survive, but…”
“Isn’t that the only way to ever make it out of a calamity?” Javi moved to a nearby trash can, dunking the empty cups in. “Teamwork?”
Over the last couple of years, I’d navigated life without anything except Mandy’s grid as my guiding light. But—
Every recent would-be disaster had only been averted by letting other people help. “You might be onto something,” I said.
“Next week’s screening is also a disaster flick.” Did Javi’s penchant for these movies remind him that he could survive—even thrive in—tragedy as long as his MVPs were by his side? “You in?”
“Yes,” I said, RSVPing without hesitation.
“Awesome. Thanks for giving me a reason to use these blankets more regularly.” We walked back to the blanket, lowering down. He tugged the edges of it over my shoulders. The cold (but not the guilt) vanished.
Returning the favor, I zipped up his hoodie. Only, my fingers stalled in the middle of his sternum.
Was the thumping coming from the tips of my fingers or deep within Javi’s chest?
Was his Dad-size hole as big now as it was a few years ago? Did summer beach days and saving lives help patch it the way parties and Mandy’s grid did mine?
“If you’re wondering if it still works, the answer is yes. Corazón is still ticking. Squeakier than before, but trucking on, nonetheless.” He undid the zipper a bit, pressing my fingers against his rib cage. “See?”
I extended my fingers. His pulse beat steady across the fleshy part of my palm.
I swallowed hard. His heart is in my hand.
As if responding to my thoughts, Javi said, “With everything it’s been through, my only request is that you handle it with care.”
A tight nod. Until my lies became a reality, I’d have to simply stomach the deceit. Keep quiet about things, despite how much his honesty demanded my truth. “I promise.” I found his lips. Sealed my pledge with a kiss.
Po screaming my name cut the kissing short.
She shouldered through the swarm of people gathering their belongings. She stopped at the edge of the blanket. Bent over her knees, hands gripping her thighs as she tried to catch her breath.
“Your phones—” As she sucked in air, my own breath quickened. “Are off.”
“Yeah, they make us turn off our phones at the beginning of the movie,” Javi said, brows meeting together in concern. “Is everything okay?”
Ignoring Javi, she panted, “Castillo, check your phone.”
Po uttering my full name was a kick to the gut so brutal I couldn’t speak. With trembling fingers, I fished the phone out of my utility bag. Powered it back up.
A flurry of notifications exploded across my screen. My vision blurred until—
The subject line on top snapped everything back into focus: Mandy Whitmore Internship Program.
I tapped the email.
Dear Miss Torres,
It is with great pleasure that I welcome you to our fairy godmother apprenticeship program. We are very excited to have you on board with us!
The blanket fell off me as I jumped up and down.
I got it! I got the internship!
No more lying to Paulina and Javi. None of these shenanigans getting back to Mandy. Happy Ending master class obtained.
Ha! No wonder Po was as breathless as I felt.
Hold on.Blood rushed to my temples. My ears rang like alarms.
How could Po be this gaspingly excited for me about the internship, if I hadn’t told her I’d gotten it yet?
“The Torres sisters better spill the beans on whatever’s so epic,” Javi said, eyes twinkling.
Po pushed herself off her knees, straightened her shoulders to face me. Her lipstick shined bright in the darkness.
Red.
My stomach dropped to the ground, disappearing under a million grains of sand.
Paulina.
She knew.