Chapter Eight
Several weeks passed from the night of our dinner until I saw Alex again. We chatted almost daily through texts and via his comments on my videos, but we were both busy, him with work and me with guests and my research and filming schedule.
My parents had come to visit for a long weekend, and I was currently sitting on the area rug in my living room while my mother worked a curl treatment through my hair, spinning individual curls on her fingers.
I loved when Mamí played with my hair, and I missed the gentle routine, one we only engaged in sporadically these days.
“Ay, nena, your ends are dry,” she crooned, shifting a section of curls onto my shoulder to flow down onto my chest.
I sighed. “They always dry out a bit in the summer. You know that.”
She grumbled under her breath in rapid Spanish, but I didn’t bother to listen, especially because Caitlin’s name flashed on my screen.
I accepted the FaceTime call and smiled when her pretty face appeared.
She looked to be walking down the street, but with her AirPods in, the sounds of the city were a distant hum.
“Hey,” she said brightly, and then her blue eyes went wide. “Mrs. Mendoza! How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever.”
With a swiftness that made me huff a laugh, Mamí plucked my phone from my hand and brought it close to her face. “Caitlin, querida. Que bella. How are you, mi hijita?”
My parents had adored Caitlin since they first met her when I was moving into our shared dorm room our freshman year of college.
She had attended a number of Thanksgivings and Nochebuena events over the years, and Caitlin viewed my parents as her Arizona family.
So it wasn’t a surprise that Mamí was so happy to speak with her.
Propping my elbow on the sofa cushion, I listened to Caitlin tell my mom about her latest brand deal and what events she had scheduled next.
“And when will we get to see you?” Mamí asked. “If you tell me when you’re coming I’ll make sure to cook pernil with the chicharron extra crispy, just like you like it.”
“Actually, that’s why I was calling. I was invited to appear at some homecoming events next month, and I wanted to invite Sofia to come with me.”
Before my mother could utter a reply, I wrestled the phone from her hand. “You’re going to homecoming?”
“Ay,” Mamí grumbled, flashing me a disgruntled look. Pushing off the sofa to her feet, she padded outside to find my father, who was relaxing in the shade in the new hammock he and Mamí had gifted me. No doubt she intended to fill him in on Caitlin’s visit.
Turning my attention to the phone, Caitlin nodded when I met her eyes. “The College of Humanities invited me to talk about my social media approach—”
“You mean social media empire,” I interrupted with a grin. “As they should.”
A pretty pink blush settled on Caitlin’s cheeks. “Empire, my ass.”
“So would you be giving a speech or what?”
Caitlin paused as she squeezed through a crowd of people walking in the opposite direction. “They asked me to give a talk for the fashion studies undergrads and attend an alumni mixer.”
“Because you’re a fancy alumna now.” I whistled.
Rolling her eyes, Caitlin snorted. “So will you be my date?”
I blinked. “Me? What about Alex?”
A crinkle appeared between Caitlin’s brows. “Well, I invited him to come and he’s agreed, but you’re a fellow Wildcat. I want you to be there.”
Ignoring how fireworks went off in my chest knowing Alex would also be at homecoming, I smiled. “I’d be happy to be your date. I’ll hype you up like it’s my job. And seeing as how I’m still unemployed, it will be my only job.”
The comment was meant to be lighthearted, but Caitlin frowned. “You still haven’t found anything?”
“No.” I didn’t mention that I hadn’t exactly been looking. “But I’m okay.”
It wasn’t a lie. I was good. The Matildas were doing great, and brands had begun to email me about possible partnerships. I hadn’t accepted any yet because none fit my particular niche, but just knowing my content and numbers had attracted sponsor interest was a huge boost to my self-esteem.
I nibbled my lip. Now would be the perfect opportunity to tell Caitlin about the Matildas.
About my online alter ego, SLikeTheSun. Caitlin understood the complexities of earning a living on social media, and she did it better than damn near anyone else.
Perhaps my account had grown enough so I wouldn’t feel embarrassed sharing the truth of my content creation with her.
Expelling a quick breath, I opened my mouth—
“Hey, I just got to the restaurant where I’m meeting my agent.” Caitlin’s face grew shadowed as she stepped from the sidewalk into a dim interior, pulling her sunglasses from her face. “We’re supposed to discuss some projects, but before I go, I wanted to ask you one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you mind letting Alex drive down to Tucson with you?”
Every one of my muscles went still.
“I’m only asking because I will probably have to fly directly into Tucson because I have a few meetings that following Monday.
” Caitlin smiled at a person off camera and gestured with a finger for them to give her a moment.
“We both know Alex could drive down by himself, but I thought you guys could keep each other company.”
If Alex made the drive to Tucson with me, we would be in the car together, side by side, for almost two hours.
Two hours of Alex Castillo’s enticing scent.
His gravelly laugh that tickled like a feather down my spine.
Two hours of his easy charisma lulling me into a relaxed state—a state where I would struggle to remember he was my best friend’s boyfriend.
Two hours alone with Alex Castillo would be torture.
“Of course he can hitch a ride down to Tucson with me,” I heard myself say.
I had the spine of a jellyfish.
“Awesome. Thanks, Sof.” Caitlin heaved a sigh and then turned to smile again at the person off camera. “I’ll call you next week and we’ll work out the rest of the details. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” I replied.
“Great. Tell your parents I’m excited to see them,” Caitlin said with a quick wave. A second later she disconnected the call.
I stared at my screen for so long that it went black, and I found myself peering at my shadowed reflection.
Should I message Alex about homecoming? Or should I just let Caitlin handle the specifics with her boyfriend?
With a groan, I dropped my head to my knee.
Alex and I were friends, and did I need to feel bad or guilty for talking to him about something we were both attending?
Sitting up straight, I typed out a quick text. I heard I have to take your ass down to homecoming.
Alex’s reply came moments later.
Alex: It’s very generous of you to agree, or else I would have had to hide in your back seat and I’m not sure it’s big enough.
Sofia: Definitely not big enough.
I sucked in a breath when I realized how that could be taken and quickly typed out another text.
Sofia: I don’t know that you’re prepared to spend a whole weekend surrounded by Wildcats.
Alex: Definitely not prepared. I only agreed to go because I hoped you would protect me.
Rocking back, I abruptly felt warm from the tips of my toes to the crown of my head.
Although I knew he was joking, I liked the idea of having to stay close to Alex.
It was easy to imagine that he received a good deal of attention when he went out, so going to homecoming, where he would be surrounded by not just alumni but also undergrads and fans drinking and socializing, meant Caitlin and I would be beating interested people off him left, right, and center.
Sofia: I’ll make sure to pack my brass knuckles.
Alex: I knew you were a badass. Just like the Matildas you cover.
Oh. A goofy grin stretched across my lips, and I didn’t try to hide it.
But just as quickly as the smile appeared, it faded away.
I was embarrassed by how easily I allowed myself to fall into the playful banter that came so effortlessly between Alex and me.
It was inappropriate, and I had no excuse.
Locking my jaw, I composed a reply text with logistics for the trip, hoping it would lead our conversation back to safe waters. Alex replied in kind, and I felt more in control of myself and my wayward emotions.
Alex: I’ll ask my assistant to grab us some snacks for the road. Do you have any requests?
I held my breath as I typed out my response.
Alex: Red Vines? They taste like plastic.
Sofia: They do not! If anything tastes like plastic it’s Twizzlers. Cherry-flavored plastic.
Alex: Twizzlers are classics.
Sofia: You would know, viejo.
As far as comebacks went, it was weak to pick on someone’s age, especially when that someone was only a few years older than yourself.
Alex: Calm down, whippersnapper. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I wouldn’t have said anything but I was surprised. I thought you had taste.
Narrowing my eyes, my fingers flew over my keyboard.
Sofia: I have excellent taste, as well you know. Or else we wouldn’t even be friends.
Alex: And my life would be much less bright.
“Are you still talking to Caitlin?”
Only by an act of God did I manage not to jump ten feet in the air at Mamí’s question. I met her gaze where she stood by the sofa. “No, she had to go but she said she’s looking forward to seeing you and Dad.”
My mother nodded and continued into the guest room. She reappeared a moment later, a cardigan draped over her arm. Mamí held it up with a smirk. “It’s getting chilly.”
I snorted. “You always complain it’s chilly when it drops below eighty-five degrees.”
“Because it is,” my mother shot back, defensively. “So are you driving down for homecoming?”
“Yeah. Can I stay with you and Dad?” I was sure I could book a room at the same hotel Caitlin and Alex were staying at, but I didn’t want to have to see them together and allow my intrusive thoughts to wreak havoc on my sensibilities. I tortured myself enough as it was when it came to Alex.