Chapter Thirty-Five
Po’s eyes bulged when I came out of the bathroom and twirled. The satin silvery-blue skirt swooshed around me. I extended a silver loafer. Adjusted the silk magenta-bow headband keeping (most of) my curls off my face before curtsying. “How do I look?”
“Wow,” she said. “The spitting image of a Caribbean Cinderella.”
“Close but no Cuban cigar.” I pressed my lips to keep from laughing. “I’m Disney-bounding as Cinderella’s fairy godmother.” Even though I’d cast off the fairy godmother robes, tonight I needed tons of magic to pull off this surprise party.
“Then you’re cheating because she’s not a princess!” Po said. “It’s Princess Nite, not Madrina Nite.”
“I guess you’ll have to ‘princess’ for both of us.” A deep breath. “I know you have something picked out, but I also bought you something.”
She sighed dramatically, as if to say, Here we go again.
“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want; I only wanted you to have an extra option. Come look.”
Grinning, she followed me back into my room. Mine because she’d finally moved back into hers. I threw the door open and said, “Behold.”
She gasped at the sunset-orange puff-sleeved crop top and matching shorts laid out on the bed. “Oh my gosh. This is next-level Princess Jasmine stuff.” She rushed forward, fingers skimming the gold foil stars stamping the tulle mesh fabric.
“I wanted to get you a present to make up for some—er, most—of my past behavior. No matter how dictatorial I acted, you always had my back.” Technically true, so not a breach of my never-lie-to-anyone-I-care-about-again rule. Still. I kept the other reason behind the star-print motif under wraps.
Po brought the top to her chest, checking herself out in the floor-length mirror. “The colors perfectly match my new lipstick, and this will look kick-ass with my boots.” Bouncing on her toes, she scooped me up for a giant hug.
As I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror, my mind flashed to Angie’s quince, when she and her mother embraced as equals—the moment when Angie stepped into her adulthood.
This hug marked a similar rite of passage. We held each other not only as sisters, but as friends. Po’s voice lowered as she said, “Thank you, Little Cuchara. For the outfit, for always having my back, too.” She squeezed me tighter, lifting my loafers from the floor.
Fitting, considering how my overwhelming love for my sister—and hers for me—sent me soaring.
We walked down Main Street, elbows linked. We bought hot kettle corn at the popcorn cart. Took pictures with Princess Minnie and Daisy. Ran up the stairs leading to City Hall.
Inside, I snatched a handful of I’m Celebrating pins, stashing them into my utility bag.
Po lifted a brow. “What?” I said. “Just making sure we uphold Mom’s traditions.” A non-lie.
“I love that,” she said. “But do we really need this many?”
“Um—” I gulped. Sheesh. Was my secret plan up in smoke already? “We have a lot of happy moments to catch up on.” My words echoed against the wood-paneled walls decorated with photos of Walt Disney and his family.
She nodded in agreement. “We do.”
“Let’s fill them out later,” I said.
“I’m down with that,” she said, bounding out the building and down the steps.
Back on Main Street, our laughter floated over the murmur of the crowd, the squeals coming from rides, the ambient Disney songs streaming from invisible speakers.
She hooked her arm around my neck. I relaxed into her, giggling to myself. Despite things being far from perfect, I was here, decked out in something other than a button-down and shorts… and I liked it.
“What’s so funny?” Po asked.
“Dressed like this, I feel like a glamorous sister duo,” I said. “You know, like Anna and Elsa.”
“Or sisters from other misters, like Thelma and Louise,” Po said.
So she’d also felt our reforged bonds of sisterhood, our strengthened links of friendship. Beaming, I said, “As long as we don’t go over a cliff together, okay?”
“We already did, and look,” she said, her eyes darting to her combat boots and my silver loafers. “We’re still standing.”
As always, Po had a point. I kissed her cheek, careful not to leave my clear gloss on her skin. When we approached the castle, I said, “Let me take a pic real quick.”
I pulled out my phone, quickly flicking away the notifications from Callie informing me that everyone was in place.
No messages from Javi. My chest tightened. A little.
I took a deep breath, focusing on the beauty of Sleeping Beauty’s castle. On being here, having a great hair day with the best sister/friend at my side.
Every detail of a plan didn’t need to fit together for the big picture to click into place.
The thump-thump-thumps of my heartbeat slowed. Pulsed with the Poverb “Don’t lose what you’ve got to what you’ve lost.”
I snapped a photo of the towers. Like them, I’d remain strong but not so thick that I could never be dismantled to build something new. I moved the camera to the bricked turrets. When life got low, I’d let my support system keep me high. I took a picture of the wide-open drawbridge.
Stay open to the unexpected. And host one hell of a party.
I turned back to Po. “Ready for a ride?”
She gave me a thumbs-up, clueless about the one I was about to take her on.
Every asset’s in position, Callie texted as we stepped off the Star Wars ride, Millennium Falcon: Smugglers Run.
ETA in T-minus 60 seconds, I texted back, following it up with a dancing Pikachu GIF. A happy compromise since I couldn’t use the walkie-talkies without giving myself away. Grabbing Po’s hand, I led her outside the ride’s building.
“Let’s go on it again,” she said.
“After we get something to drink,” I said, even though I wasn’t remotely thirsty.
“Too bad Dad isn’t here.”
“Yeah, too bad,” I said, biting the sides of my cheeks.
The second the evening air hit me, I spotted Callie leaning against the Rancor’s gate. I couldn’t tell which would make Rapunzel do a double take faster: Callie’s corseted, pinkish-purple dress, or her long locks, plaited into an epic braid.
Three, two, one, she mouthed.
I slipped the pencil-wand from my utility bag. One last bibbidi-bobbidi-boo for the road. Taking a huge mouthful of air, I yelled, “A big round of applause for tonight’s quince court!”
I flicked the eraser end of my makeshift wand at Callie.
She held a mini speaker into the air, blasting an air horn soundtrack.
Po’s volleyball team rushed from behind the crates decorating the Star Wars–themed area. They cracked their glow sticks. Each stick glowed a different shade of neon; the colors blurred as the team circled us.
Po’s mouth fell open. “What the—”
“A round of applause for the father of the quincea?era, Diego Torres!” I said, flicking my pencil-wand again. Dad sprung from behind a trash can, clad in Jedi robes. He whirled a blue saber through the air. “And give it up for the belle of the ball, Mariposa Torres!”
Her head jerked toward mine. A small gasp escaped from Po’s wobbling lips. Brandi, wearing a green velvety dress similar to Princess Merida’s, ran up to Po, crowning her with Angie’s tiara.
“What in the world”—Po’s eyes brimmed with tears; she grabbed my shoulder to steady herself—“is happening?”
I flicked my pencil-wand to Callie again. Like magic, the air horn sounds morphed into the piano, brass, and string melodies of the most iconic quince waltz of all time, “Tiempo de Vals.”
The volleyball team broke off into pairs, dancing around us. And right when Po couldn’t look more shocked, her eyes fixed on something—someone—behind me. Her belly heaved in and out as she said, “Paulina.”
Clad in her sparkly Darth Vader–inspired gown, Paulina strutted over. She bowed in front of Po, her sleek hair spreading over her shoulders like a Sith Lord’s cape.
“May I have this dance?” Paulina asked, extending a manicured hand.
Po pinched herself, as if trying to wake up from a dream.
“It’s all real, Po,” I whispered. “If you don’t believe me, take Paulina’s hand.”
The team erupted into cheers when Po did.
Callie joined in on the applause. So did Dad and every cast member and guest who happened to be walking through Galaxy’s Edge at that moment.
I cheered, loudest of all. My palms stung from clapping when Po melted into Paulina’s arms. My throat burned from woo-hooing when Paulina gently kissed both of her eyelids.
Dad came over and gave me a hug. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”
I grinned, tipping my face toward the coming nightfall.
Soon the darkness would drape over the neon-pink clouds and the ocean-blue skies. Only against the night sky could stars wink into existence. The moon would shine brightly.
And so will we.
Callie wedged between me and Dad. “You guys ready for round two?”
Dad pulled the red saber strapped on his back, extending it to me.
I tucked the pencil-wand behind my ear to take it. I twirled the saber at Callie. “In three, two, one—”
Callie’s mini speaker boomed with the percussion and cymbal blasts of the “Imperial March.” I turned on the saber. Whoa. Its glow painted my skin with a beautiful shade of red. No wonder Dad and Paulina loved this universe so much. “And give it up for the second quincea?era of the night, Paulina Reyes!”
“What?” Paulina’s eyelids could have become mini strobe lights with all her blinking. “Cas, this wasn’t part of the script,” she huffed, sounding shocked—and ecstatic.
Once more, applause thundered. Even Chewbacca, taking pics with fans in front of the Millennium Falcon a few feet away, roared.
Without missing another cymbal crash, Po spun Paulina again. “You remember how to paso doble?”
“A Sith Lord never forgets,” Paulina answered.
Together, they performed the dance. Weeks had passed since the first rehearsal, yet they didn’t miss a beat.
With each turn, I could tell they let more of this Star Wars land melt away… until they were left in a party of two. After the last percussion boom, they laughed in each other’s arms.
Paulina glanced in my direction. Gracias amiga, she mouthed. Gracias.
After the introduction dances, we ran to Frontierland to ride Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. We broke into impromptu steps whenever we wanted. Waltzing with Callie, Dad, and Po may not have been like rehearsing the paso doble with Javi. But it was just as fun and equally memorable.
The cardio worked up our appetites. Paulina gave us the inside scoop on all the treats we needed to eat: The Cocoa-Puff-and-sweet-cream-cheese-topped cold brew at Docking Bay 7. The pineapple soft serve, aka Dole Whip, dusted with Tajín seasoning in front of the Tiki Room. The grilled-cheese-sandwich-and-tomato-soup combo at Jolly Holiday on Main Street.
And of course, we devoured the delectable cupcakes from Rubi’s Bakery for dessert.
In the (very long) line for the Indiana Jones ride, I opened the box of cupcakes. Only three remained.
The specially decorated one I’d been saving for Dad. And the two I’d been saving for me and…
I closed the box.
Great. Paulina must’ve caught me wallowing in my pity party, because she broke away from Po. She leaned against the railing next to me and said, “Thanks for showing up with an extended cut of my Very Merry Unquince.” Her voice was teasing. But also grateful.
“De nada,” I said. “I know the last segment of your Unquince series is still happening later this month—but I figured Po wasn’t the only one who deserved a party do-over.” I cleared my throat. “One not for your subscribers, USC’s admissions board, or La Mera Mera.” I grabbed on to the railing. “But one for you.”
Paulina’s eyeliner twinkled under the lampposts. “I’m sorry about Javi not showing up. I really thought he’d come,” she said.
I stood there, not knowing how to respond without my voice cracking.
“If it makes you feel any better, he did say he needed to help his mom fix something.” She shook her head. “‘Life seems so much simpler when you’re fixing things.’”
“That’s an Anakin Skywalker quote,” I said. “Episode II—Attack of the Clones.” That set her faux lashes batting. “Don’t look so surprised. I did my homework.” I looked over her shoulder at Po. “Anakin’s wrong, by the way.” I turned my attention back to Paulina. “The line should be ‘Life’s better when you’re living things.’”
The fire in Paulina’s eyes turned up a notch. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Walking out of the ride, I said, “It’s almost time for the fireworks. Should we head out to the end of Main Street to secure prime viewing spots?”
“Actually,” Paulina said, “what about watching them from the First Order headquarters back in Batuu? It’s way less crowded, and from there, it’s like the fireworks are exploding right over your head.”
The entire team oohed and aahed. Including Callie and Po. Outvoted, I nodded.
On the walk back to Galaxy’s Edge, Dad squeezed my shoulder. “I forgot how awesome this place was.” There was a tiny tremor in his voice. Nervous as he looked to be back here without Mom, a little smile crept to the corners of his mouth.
He was a Jedi, after all. And Jedis didn’t give in to fear.
“Would you be mad if I bailed on the show to get on Rise of the Resistance, kiddo? I’ve watched the ride-through a hundred times, but—”
I put up a hand. “Go. Oh, before I forget, take this.” I flipped open the cupcake box and handed him his special treat. A cupcake decorated with a scroll that said, Happy Thrice upon a Quincea?era, Dad.
He wrapped me in a bear hug. Kissed me on top of the head. “How did I get so lucky with you girls?” he said, voice cracking.
I shrugged, even though we both knew the answer.
Before both of us started bawling—I shoved him in the direction of the rebel base. “May the Force be with you.”
He turned with a swish of brown Jedi robes, holding both saber and cupcake up high.
Although he slowly disappeared into the costumed crowd, it was obvious he was reappearing into our lives. Into his life.
I was excited, scared—and ready—to follow his lead.
“Cas, let’s go,” Callie said, dragging me forward.
I pressed my silver loafers into the ground. “Actually, I’m gonna watch in front of the castle. That’s where I’d always watch with Mom, and I—”
“Say no more,” she said. “We can rendezvous at Space Mountain after the show.”
With Dad in a galaxy far, far away, and Po and Paulina inside their own bubble, they wouldn’t mind me leaving the group for a bit. “Thanks, Callie. For all the help on this and everything else, too. Want to get acai bowls during the week? My treat?”
“Perfect plan.”
“Speaking of plans, that reminds me—” I opened up my utility bag, gesturing to the I’m Celebrating pins I’d grabbed back at City Hall. “Hand these out as party favors and have everyone fill them. We can take a group pic wearing them later.”
“Gotcha,” she said, stuffing most of the buttons into a Tangled Loungefly backpack. “But keep one for yourself.” She winked at the one she’d left inside. “You can add ‘making up with Javi’ or something like that to yours.”
Because I was at the place synonymous with fairy-tale endings, hope tiptoed in. “In that case, I’m also keeping the last two cupcakes.” I hugged the pastry box to my chest, wishing for Javi to show up.
If he didn’t, that was okay, too.
I had lots of things to celebrate already.
People sat on printed blankets and beach towels across all of Main Street. Most of the crowds gathered around the circular hub in front of Sleeping Beauty’s castle. The scents of sugar and butter floated alongside collective murmurs.
Anticipation for the show charged the air.
This resembled the setup at Movies at the Beach, sans ribbons of saltwater turned inside out by the wind. It was also missing one special guest.
I’d be going back to my Pinocchio ways if I told myself I didn’t care that Javi hadn’t shown up. Obviously, I’d wanted him here. And him not showing up stung more than I anticipated.
But not so much that I’d miss out on this moment.
I pulled the brand-new Cinderella beach towel from a plastic Disneyland bag. In all of today’s planning, I’d forgotten to pack something to sit on for the fireworks.
Me. Forgetting to bring something on the items-to-bring checklist.
Proof that I was indeed letting go of my planning ways? Or had I been subconsciously clinging to the dream of sitting on one of Javi’s Guatemalan blankets tonight?
Since that wasn’t going to happen, I’d swerved into plan B: bought this towel—and another souvenir—on the walk from Galaxy’s Edge.
I turned each side of the towel. One surface featured the pink dress Cinderella had intended to wear to the ball. The other sported the blue one she ended up donning.
Fairy godmothers could perhaps custom-make glittering gowns. But no amount of wand flicks or pixie dust could guarantee a happily ever after.
I knew that now. But that didn’t mean I had to stop believing in magic. My life teemed with so much proof of its existence.
I spread the towel over the pavement, blue-dress side up. I lowered down. Basked in the day’s heat radiating from the cement. I rolled each edge of the towel between my fingers, letting both the empowerment of princesses and the power of fairy godmothers soak into my skin.
I moved my hand into the Disney bag again, reaching for the other present I’d gifted myself.
A necklace with a glass-slipper pendant.
I lifted it from the bag. The moonlight caught on the charm’s curved edges.
I brushed my mane over a shoulder, looped the silver chain around my neck. The glass charm hit just above my heart.
It wasn’t that the charm didn’t echo against the void left by Mom’s absence—it did.
But so did her love for me.
So did my love for her.
The glass-slipper charm fits, and I’m sooo going to wear it.
As soon as this damn clasp hooked.
That’s when two large hands draped over mine. I would’ve panicked had their warmth not been accompanied by the scent of lavender. I gulped. “Javi?”
He fastened the necklace and sat next to me. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Castle Towers.” His eyes tracked me from the tips of my silver loafers to the top of the bow crowning my curls, before settling on my necklace. That lopsided smile broke out across his face. “Looks like you found your glass slipper after all.”
“Not entirely on my own. I had help from a knight in rusted armor.” Under the lampposts’ lights his quince-slash-stormtrooper tux jacket glowed. Contrasted exquisitely against his tan skin and dark hair. No need to ask the magic mirror, Who’s the fairest of them all? “Although you look anything but rusty. I mean, you always look good, but tonight especially.” I bit my lips to stop before I embarrassed myself further. “Even if I do miss your Mickey sling bag.”
Javi laughed, his cheeks flushing. “Thanks,” he said, flicking the jacket’s lapel. “Not as comfortable as my hoodie, but it’s good to try new things.”
And to try things again. Those unspoken words hummed in the air.
“As far as my sling bag, I don’t need a constant reminder to smile,” he said. “I have plenty already.”
I perked up. Did this mean…?
Before my hopes flew higher, I said, “I’m glad you came.” I fidgeted with the charm necklace. “The fireworks are going to start any second now.”
A small laugh-snort. “Oh, they’ve been going off since day one, Castle Towers.”
I nodded. They totally had been.
He scooted in. Our arms touched.
Yup. The electricity was still there.
Projection lights shot across the castle. The music kicking off the show swelled. During a decrescendo, I said, “I’m sorry I lied to you. I just got too caught up playing make-believe that it got hard to tell you the truth. I know this sounds clichéd, but I swear everything between us was always real.”
“I know.” His jaw tensed. “Trust me—I understand what it’s like to want to live in a fantasy world.”
“I do trust you.” My throat bobbed. “Question is, can you trust me again?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “I think I can.” He leaned in. Repositioning himself because of the thickening crowd? His mouth parted slightly. Or an invitation to kiss and make up?
The promise of a reconciliation angled me closer and closer, until I found the warmth of his lips.
The kiss was far from gentle. It was me burying another apology.
It was him accepting it.
Fireworks exploded overhead. I ran a hand up the side of his neck. The booms reverberated there, thrumming to the tempo of his pulse. And mine.
His fingers trailed the chain of my necklace. He followed each link down to the spot inside my rib cage that would always ache. To the glass slipper reminding me of love and magic persevering.
Folding my hand over his, I kissed him again. Our movements synched with the firework bursts and the soundtrack floating from the overhead speakers, quickening to the songs of our broken-but-beating hearts.
Each kiss didn’t break curses or lift spells. But they spun their own type of magic.
I surrendered to it.
No thoughts of the past. No plans for the future. Nothing but giving in to this moment.
No wonder present was a synonym for gift.
I pulled away, breathing hard against his lips. “I think the fairy godmother slash frog just became a princess.”
“Oh, you’ve always been a princess, Castle Towers. You didn’t need any kisses from me.”
Explosions lit the sky every color of the rainbow. Tendrils of gold twinkled from the heavens like tumbling fairy dust. The shimmers flashed in his eyes. Glittered on my skin.
Yes. All this time, underneath the fairy godmother robes, a princess gown had waited to be worn.
Smiling, I drew him in by the lapel of his stormtrooper tux. The crowd cheered as the music and booms crescendoed. Or maybe they were rewarding me for reclaiming his lips.
Behind my eyelids, the night sparkled.
I sparkled with it.