Chapter Fifteen
Thanksgiving was in three days, and I still had not done any of the shopping I needed to prepare. But instead of using the time I had available to check that chore off my list, I had eschewed the grocery store and headed into the desert.
I had been on the Echo Canyon Trail on Camelback Mountain for thirty minutes, and although my thighs burned, my spirits were high.
It had been many long months since I had embarked on a hike, and while Camelback Mountain was a popular and busy destination for Phoenicians and tourists intent on enjoying the glorious weather, I braved the crowds to soak up the beauty of the desert.
Doing my best to ignore the other hikers on the trail aside from a smile or nod, I focused instead on how the craggy rocks, towering saguaros, and sweeping city vistas fed my soul in a way I didn’t realize I needed until I stood within it.
The hiking trails around the valley were practically inaccessible six to seven months of the year due to the extreme heat, so I was thrilled to get out of the house for a spell, clear my head, and remind myself why I enjoyed living in the desert so much.
Several times I had to adjust the pace of my trek to account for other hikers, but I refused to be annoyed.
I could have visited other hiking spots, but I had wanted to come to Echo Canyon Trail, so dealing with the crowds was just part of the deal.
Still, when the couple in front of me stopped to take another selfie in the middle of the trail, I figured it was time for a water break.
Spying a collection of boulders shaded by the canopy of a scraggly mesquite tree, I swung my small backpack off my shoulders and pulled out my water bottle.
After dusting off a spot on the largest boulder, and sweeping my gaze over the area to search for any scorpions or rattlesnakes, I took a seat to rest for a few minutes.
But my quiet moment was short-lived, and I opened my eyes when soft murmurings accompanied by footfalls on gravel met my ears.
From around a bend in the trail appeared a couple, and as they moved closer to my resting spot, the familiarity of the taller hiker drew a stifled gasp from my lips.
The sound caught his attention, and his eyes went wide.
“Oh my God, Sofia. Hi.” Alex stumbled to a halt in front of me, his dimple accenting his smile. “What are the odds of meeting you out here?”
An understatement. A nervous laugh rattled my chest. “Small world. How are you?”
I did my best to focus on Alex, especially because I hadn’t seen him in a month.
Not since we had almost kissed after the Scorpions game.
Just thinking about it made my cheeks hot.
But I couldn’t concentrate on my embarrassment, or even greedily admire Alex, because I was so curious about the woman standing next to him.
She appeared to be around my age, maybe a year or two younger, and ay bendito, she was stunning.
Petite and shapely, with large doe eyes surrounded by thick black lashes and the kind of full lips influencers spent big bucks to emulate with fillers, this woman peered back at me unabashedly, curiosity alight in her dark gaze.
“I’m doing well. Finally feeling like I can explore Phoenix now that the sun isn’t trying to cook me every time I step outside.
” Alex chuckled and I couldn’t help but echo him.
He held my gaze until the woman next to him nudged him with her elbow, and he jerked his eyes to her.
“Lo siento. Sofia, this is my sister Camila. Camila, this is Sofia, although I’m sure you’ve already recognized her. ”
Refusing to acknowledge the relief that whooshed from me like a popped balloon, I turned to Camila.
His sister. I should have recognized the similarities between her and Alex, like the rich brown of their eyes and the sweep of their brows.
But it was when Camila smiled, dimples cutting into her cheeks, that the resemblance was clear.
“Hi, Camila, it’s nice to meet you. Alex has told me a lot about you,” I said, stepping forward and holding out my hand.
“I promise it’s not as much as he’s told me about you,” she said, ignoring my hand and instead pressing two quick kisses to my cheeks.
Unsure of what to say in response, I ducked my head.
“So what have you been up to?” Alex’s voice pulled my chin up. “It’s been a while since we chatted.”
Alex didn’t say it, but I knew him well enough by now to recognize the chiding in his words. Shame rushed up my throat and gripped it tight, and it took me a long moment to respond.
“I’ve just been busy with research and such.” Digging my boot into the dirt, I avoided meeting his gaze. “And I’m hosting Thanksgiving this year, so I’ve been planning the menu and getting the house situated for my parents to visit.”
“If I wasn’t leaving town, it would have been lovely to see Santiago and Carmen again,” Alex murmured. “Are your brother and sister-in-law coming to visit as well?”
I shook my head. “Javi and Olivia have decided to come for Christmas, so we’ll have a big Mendoza family celebration then.”
Alex pressed his lips together, his eyes keen on my face, and I simply stared back at him. God, I had missed him.
“I really liked your video about Mary Anderson and her invention of the windshield wiper,” Camila said suddenly, stepping toward me with her hands clasped together.
“Really?” I blinked. “I thought she was an interesting subject, but I was worried viewers wouldn’t think so because she didn’t discover something amazing. Or invent something fancy.”
Camila shook her head, her black ponytail bouncing against her shoulders.
“I think we often take for granted the seemingly mundane inventions and hacks that help make our lives convenient. Like you said in your video, if you’ve ever been stuck in traffic in a downpour, you know how desperately you rely on your windshield wipers to keep you safe. ”
“Exactly,” I exclaimed. “Some of the women I’ve researched have made profound discoveries in science and mathematics, but others have used their ingenuity to make our lives easier. And I think those inventions deserve to be celebrated, too.”
Camila beamed a bright smile. “I completely agree, especially as an engineer.”
“Oh, that’s right. Alex mentioned you were an engineer.” I grabbed my backpack and threw it over my shoulders. “What engineering field are you in?”
“Structural.” Camila weaved her arm through mine and directed me toward the trail.
“I’m sure it seems boring as hell, but I’ve always been fascinated with not just building design, but how to make them safe.
How we construct a bridge or dam or, hell, even a freeway interchange to fit the various environments they’re needed in.
And with our country’s dangerously crumbling infrastructure, I sadly think about it all the time. ”
“I’m sure,” I murmured. Although I didn’t turn to look, I knew Alex walked close behind us. Knowing he was there made me slightly anxious, but I managed to keep my nerves at bay because Camila was so friendly and easy to chat with. “Do you work for a private company or a municipality?”
Camila and I continued to chat about the complexities of her job before she mentioned an engineer named Emily Warren Roebling, who was behind the completion of the Brooklyn Bridge, and how she thought Roebling would make an excellent subject for a video.
And speaking of the Matildas sparked a conversation about what it was like to be a content creator.
“One thing I noticed,” Camila began, carefully navigating over scree on the trail, “is that you seem really comfortable being the type of content creator who focuses on a specific interest and only discusses that interest. You don’t talk about your personal life—heck, you’ve never revealed your real name.
Your followers follow you because of the information you share. ”
“And because she’s witty as hell,” Alex interjected from behind us. I glanced at him over my shoulder, and he shrugged. “You have great delivery. Anyone could film a video talking about the life of Ada Lovelace, but few people make her come alive quite like you do.”
“That’s very nice of you to say,” I said, turning to face forward again and hoping Alex didn’t notice how my ears turned pink.
“Alex is right, although I’m loath to admit it.” Camila cast her brother a withering look…which was ruined when her lips twitched. “What are your plans for the Matildas? Have you been approached about taking your videos to a larger audience? Maybe even writing a book?”
Just thinking about those possibilities made my stomach twist. “I’ve had a few entertainment agents reach out about representation, but I haven’t responded to them. This series was never supposed to be something serious. I started it, quite inadvertently, as a drunken rant—”
“Wait,” Camila said, laying a hand on my arm. She snatched her sunglasses from her face, her eyes wide. “That first video, about Jocelyn Bell Burnell? You were drunk?”
Snapping my teeth together, I clamped my eyes closed. “Yes.”
“Oh my God, you have to tell me about it.”
So I did. During the next twenty minutes of our climb, I explained to Camila about what led to me going viral on TikTok and the birth of the Matildas.
And as it turned out, Camila had her own stories to share about terrible male coworkers.
It was a tale as old as time, and when we reached the top of Camelback Mountain, Camila and I had bonded over our experiences with toxic coworkers as Latina women in the workforce.