Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ALEJANDRA
Waking up to Clara undressed beside me is my new favorite thing. I’ve been up for hours now, watching the steady rhythm of her breath. Seeing her long eyelashes slightly flutter in her sleep, wondering what she’s dreaming of that’s brought a tiny smile to her lips.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. It’s a text from Isabella, asking if we’re still meeting for coffee in an hour.
Isabella and I need to review the pictures I picked for the show at her gallery before I print them out. I’ve been editing them on and off for a few weeks, and I’m at my wits’ end. I think I need someone else to look at them at this point because I will keep tinkering with them and never be done.
But Clara looks so cute cuddled up next to me, I want to cancel to watch her some more.
Five more minutes, I tell myself, snuggling up closer to her.
When my five minutes are up, I sneak out of bed carefully, making sure not to wake Clara. That’s a sure way to get her to be grumpy all day.
I head into the bathroom, shower, brush my teeth, and do my makeup. When I step out, I almost wish Clara was up so I could kiss her goodbye, but she’s still knocked out in bed.
I tiptoe past her and lightly close the door behind me.
When I make it to the cafe, I grab a dirty chai while I wait for Isabella to arrive. I pull out my phone to text Clara, but I already have a text from her.
Clara 8:00 a.m.:
Where are you?
Alejandra 8:00 a.m.:
Morning sunshine!! I’m meeting bel about the pictures remember?
Want anything from the coffee shop?
Clara 8:00 a.m.:
Oh! right and no thank you. I can meet you there when you’re done
Alejandra 8:00 a.m.:
perfect!!
“Hey,” Isabella says, squeezing my shoulders, startling me slightly.
“Hey.” I cover my eyes from the beaming sun—even though it is a chilly morning—as I look up at her. “How are you?”
“Good, you?”
“Mm . . . fine.”
“Just fine?” Isabella smirks.
“Yes?” My eyebrows furrow as I sip my chai.
“Hmm, I thought you’d be great after that one night with Clara.”
I nearly choke on my drink, and start coughing so much that Isabella has to pat my back to help me get through the fit.
“What do you mean?” I choke out.
“What do you mean, what do I mean? The balcony.”
“How do you know about that?” I ask, probably too loudly for this early in the morning. A few annoyed eyes land on me.
“Ale, there were no curtains, and the sun was still out. We all saw.” Isabella laughs.
“Well, that’s embarrassing.” I touch my cold fingers to my suddenly burning cheeks, trying to tame the heat, but it’s too late.
“I didn’t know you guys were that committed to your fake relationship.”
I gently slap her shoulder, but she raises her eyebrows at me, waiting.
“Let it go,” I mutter.
She leans in, her grin widening. “No, I don’t think I will, I think I’ll have some payback, thank you very much.”
“Payback?” I laugh.
“Yeah, you were being little Miss Nosy when I was figuring things out with Lily, and now it’s my turn,” she says resolutely, folding her arms and tilting her head. “So spill.”
“There are no details,” I say quickly.
She just stares . . . waiting.
“There aren’t!” I insist.
Of course there are, but I don’t know how much to say.
Clara telling my mom about us dating is one thing, but me telling Isabella, who will for sure tell Lily, and who will then tell Valeria—well, I don’t want to put that kind of pressure on something so new.
So, I decide to address her question directly.
“It was one kiss. Clara and I had a moment.”
I wasn’t really planning on talking about this, but it feels good to tell someone, even if I don’t end up laying out everything that happened after that kiss.
“And how do you feel about that?” Isabella asks.
I shrug, feigning nonchalance.
“Oh, don’t give me that.”
“Fine, I felt great,” I say honestly.
“And now you don’t?” she asks, her eyebrows knitting together.
“What? No, of course I still do.”
“Ah, okay, you said ‘felt,’ so I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”
“No, I just don’t know how to explain it. But it felt so right, like something I wasn’t expecting, but which somehow also made perfect sense. I think I’m still wrapping my head around how natural it all was.”
“Yeah, it’s normal that you’re still processing it. It’s not like people go around kissing their best friend all the time.”
“You do,” I joke.
Isabella laughs and runs a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
“How did you know it was the right thing with Lily?” I study my drink and run my finger along the rim of my cup.
I’m not doubting things with Clara—not at all.
I’m just . . . curious. This is all so new.
And even though I wish it didn’t, my mind drifts to Mia, and how perfect I thought that was, too.
Maybe I’m searching for some confirmation that this is as right as it feels, and Isabella’s been in my shoes before. If anyone would know, she would.
“I didn’t. Not when we were teens and not when it happened again a couple of years ago. I just knew I had to try.”
“Even if you lost Lily again?”
“I guess I never thought I would,” Isabella says thoughtfully. “Or, I knew I could lose her, but I didn’t think I would, even if we didn’t work out. I was determined to make our friendship survive the second time around.”
I nod.
“If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be.
You and Clara are solid. Your communication is amazing, and the way you care about each other will never let anything come between you.
That stuff matters. Even if you try it and it doesn’t turn out as you expected, I honestly believe you two will be okay. You’ll figure it out together.”
“You’re right,” I say softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Thank you.”
“Anyways.” Isabella pulls my iPad closer to her. “What have you got?”
I try to focus on why I asked Isabella to meet me today. I scoot closer to her and put my password into my iPad. As soon as it unlocks, it opens to the three pictures I want Isabella to take a look at.
“Here are the three I’m thinking about sending to print, but I wanted your opinion first.”
Isabella grabs my tablet and zooms in, examining them closely as I try not to squirm in my seat.
The first image is a close-up of a woman’s face, half hidden by swirls of pink and purple smoke, but her intense gaze pierces through the haze, catching the light, making her look almost unreal. The colors melt together around her, giving her this soft, dreamy glow.
The second shows a woman floating in a lake, half underwater, while wisps of teal and lavender smoke drift above her. Her hair fans out like a halo, her face calm, and the whole misty scene is peaceful but a little otherworldly—like she’s stepped out of another realm.
The third is more low-key. You can’t see her face—it’s of a woman in a long dress crouched by the water, pressing a finger to its surface. Everything is dark and moody, her hair falling forward as she rests her chin on her knee.
“These are amazing. I don’t think they’ll last very long at the gallery.”
“Are you serious? You think they’re that good?”
Isabella nods. “Why haven’t you sent them to me already?” she asks, still studying the pictures.
I shrug, because I don’t really have a reason other than that I wasn’t sure they were good enough. “Perfectionism, I think.”
“Print them and send them to me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I squeal, pulling her in to hug her tightly. “Thank you for doing this. You’re my favorite!” I add.
“It’s not a favor, Ale. I’m not doing this because you’re my best friend, I’m doing it because I think you’re talented.”
My heart swells with pride, and I can’t help the giant smile on my face. Isabella is the most talented person I’ve ever met, and to have her say this means so much more than I can even explain.
“Thank you. Coming from you . . . that means everything.” I pull her into another hug, wishing I believed in myself the way she seems to.
This could be the break I’ve been waiting for. I’ve had a lot of fun shooting for companies, but that’s not why I went into photography. I want to make art. To have my work in galleries and live off what I create. I’ve been dreaming about that for years.
I was always too scared to ask Isabella to consider my photos for her gallery. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to ride her success. But a few months ago, Clara stepped in and made it happen.
“I talked to Isabella for you,” she said one evening during one of our DIY spa days. “She couldn’t believe you two haven’t done this already.”
I blinked so many times it was unnatural, but I was trying to get myself out of the shock. “Wait—seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” She grinned.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
Clara shrugged, clearly proud of herself.
Honestly, it was the push I’d needed. Since then, I’ve been working on these photos nonstop—tweaking, adjusting, and tinkering to no end.
My phone buzzes, and it’s Clara, as if she senses I’m thinking about her.
Clara 9:00 a.m.:
Are you still at the cafe?
Alejandra 9:00 a.m.:
Yes! Why?
Clara 9:00 a.m.:
I’ll meet you there in 5
“Clara’s on her way?” Isabella asks.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“The notification popped up on your tablet.” She shrugs as she closes the tablet and hands it to me. I grab it and throw it in my bag.
“Well, I should go. Good luck!” Isabella says with a wink.
I playfully roll my eyes at her.
I go into the coffee shop again to grab Clara her favorite coffee—a brown sugar latte—and head back outside to wait for her to arrive.
I scroll through the pictures again, and a rush of pride floods through me because, yeah, they are amazing, and maybe my dream isn’t as far-fetched as I’ve convinced myself it is.
“Hey,” Clara says, interrupting my train of thought, and that pride turns into nervousness.