Fifteen Candles (8 page)

Gaz turned on the ignition, and they started to drive back to Coral Gables. “I think I know the perfect spot on the beach,” he said.

“What about the harness?” Alicia asked. “It's a key element of my choreography.”

Gaz gave her a look that said,
You've got to be kidding me.

“I'm serious,” Alicia said. “I want Sarita to have a fly
quince
, but I also want to showcase my choreography. I need a harness.”

“Scratch the harness,” Gaz said.

“I—” Alicia began, but Gaz cut her off.

“Scratch the harness,” he repeated.

“Scratching the harness,” Alicia said, settling back into her seat. He was cute. Even when he was being bossy.

THE NEXT
day, Alicia met Carmen at her house to work on firming up the checklist and the budget. Carmen's house in South Beach was the very opposite of Alicia's pristine home in the Gables. Carmen's family lived in a 1930s bungalow on the canal facing New River. The bright pink three-bedroom house was in dire need of a paint job, and inside, all the rooms were ramshackle—probably because there were two parents and six kids living there. Carmen lived with her mom, her stepdad, her sister, Una, her brother, Tino, and her three stepsisters, Laura, Lindsay, and Lula.

Una was seventeen and was in Alex's class at C. G. High. Her real name was Valentina. When she was little and people asked her if she wanted brothers or sisters, she would shake her head vehemently and say, “No,
sola una, sola una
,” meaning that she wanted to be an only child. And while it was ironic that the girl who wanted to be an only child ended up with five siblings, the nickname Una had stuck.

Tino was sixteen, hot, and a local soccer star. His picture was in the paper regularly. Everyone said that he was going to make it to the pros. Alicia had to admit that she'd spent a good part of junior high crushing on Tino, but she had finally realized that all he was ever going to love, at least for the foreseeable future, was his soccer ball—and the occasional overfriendly cheerleader.

Carmen's stepsisters were the definition of “adorable.” They were all blond-haired, blue-eyed versions of Carmen's stepdad, Christian, a history professor who taught at Florida International. He'd come to Miami from England for a vacation after finishing college, fallen in love with the weather, and never left. Laura and Lula were six-year-old twins. Lindsay was eight. Carmen liked to pretend that they got on her nerves, but the L's, as she and Alicia called them, worshipped the ground she walked on, and she loved them to pieces.

“Welcome to the jungle,” Carmen said as Alicia entered the front yard.

It wasn't quite a jungle, but the garden
was
overrun with tropical plants and fruit-bearing trees. Fallen mangoes and coconuts were scattered across the lawn. Inside the house, Carmen's mother, Sophia, was sitting at the kitchen table, paying bills. All of Carmen's friends knew Carmen's mom. She was the head of the math department at C. G. High. She was the person you saw if you wanted to place out of the math requirement by taking an algebra test, or if you wanted to take AP trigonometry. Carmen's mom was not just good at numbers. She was also fluent in Italian and Chinese, as well as Spanish.

“Mom, Alicia is here,” Carmen said, going to the fridge and getting two bottles of Mexican soda. Alicia loved Jarrito's tamarind-flavored drink and happily took one when Carmen handed it to her.

“How are my favorite entrepreneurs doing?” Sophia asked, giving the girls a smile.

“Great,” Alicia said. “Our first client is awesome.”

“Now we've just got to confirm our checklist and deal with the budget,” Carmen said. “We've been kind of going about this blindly.”

“Well,” Sophia said, “I was just paying bills, so I've got my calculator out and my budget brain on. Do you want some help?”

“No,” Carmen said, her knee-jerk reaction being to turn the parental unit down, no matter what.

“We would love help,” Alicia said. “Carmen, we've got a girl's
quince
on our hands, and we've never done this before.”

Carmen relented.

“All right, then. Tell me what you've got so far,” Sophia said.

Alicia took out her Amigas folder and her ideas notebook. “Sarita's new in town, and she wants to be an aeronautical engineer,” she explained.

“Smart girl,” Sophia said.

“And she wants a space-themed
quince
,” Carmen added.

“Well, that's unique,” Sophia said.

“I've got an idea for an opening dance number and a set,” Alicia said. “And Carmen is making the dresses.”

“Claro,”
Sophia said. She herself couldn't sew a single stitch, but Carmen had learned from their neighbor, Senora Olga, who lived across the street and was like a grandmother to Carmen, her brother, and her sisters.

“Gaz will do the music,” Alicia went on. “Jamie's on hair, makeup, and invitations.”

“This sounds great,” Sophia said, visibly impressed. “So, what else?”

“We still need to figure out flowers, a photographer, and a limo,” Alicia said.

“What about the venue?” Sophia said. “That seems like it's going to be your biggest expense.”

“Well, I'm not too worried. The budget is
huge
,” Alicia said. “And the venue—the beach—is cheap!”

“Really?” Sophia asked. “How
huge
a budget are we talking?”

“Five thousand dollars,” Alicia replied. “Like I said, this is going to be a
breeze
.”

Sophia looked amused. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but five thousand dollars isn't a huge budget. It's not tiny, but it's not huge.”

“What are you talking about?” Alicia said.

“Do you know how much the average
quinceañera
costs in Miami?” Carmen's mom asked.

Alicia shrugged.

“Between ten thousand and fifteen thousand dollars,” said Sophia.

“That's
bananas
!” Alicia exclaimed.

“How do you know, Mom?” Carmen asked.

“Because I've got a daughter who's going to turn fifteen in the fall,” Sophia said. “I like to do my research.”

Carmen looked concerned. “We don't have that kind of money.”

“Don't worry about it,
niña
,” Sophia said. “We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Besides, not every
quince
costs ten thousand dollars. You can have a perfectly nice party on five thousand dollars or even less.”

Alicia was starting to think that she should've just stuck to the City Hall internship. At least there, none of the budget problems were her concern! “Perfectly nice isn't going to cut it,” she said. “This is the Amigas' first
quinceañera
. It's our showcase. We've got to bring the hotness or other girls won't want us to plan their event.”

“Well, sometimes, having less money can make you
more
creative,” said Sophia. “Look at Carmen and the outfits that she makes. People stop her on the street because they can tell her work is couture quality. The key to working on a budget is planning and negotiating. You've got to check and recheck your budget on a daily basis, and you've got to be willing to negotiate. If a vendor wants to sell you something for a hundred dollars, try to get it for fifty. And if someone offers you something for fifty dollars, see if there's a way that you can get it for free.”

“Well, we're all working for free on this one, so that's got to save money,” Carmen said.

Alicia opened to a fresh page in her notebook and wrote:

Sarita's Budget


Dress: $0


“Well, the dress isn't zero dollars, because Carmen has to buy the material and sewing supplies,” Sophia said.

“Good point,” Alicia said. “How much, Carmen? You already did the church dress—we'll pay you back, of course.”

“Sounds good. I want to use silver tulle, diamond sequins, and a satin tulle underlay for her party dress. That's not cheap,” she said. “But it's a minidress, not a long, flowing gown, so we'll use less fabric. I'd say a hundred and fifty dollars. Plus extra for the church dress.”

“Okay,” Alicia said. “We also need to get her a white lab coat and horn-rimmed glasses for the opening dance number. That's probably another forty dollars.”

“Maybe the thing to do is to make a list of everything you need and plug in the numbers later,” Sophia said. “Carmen, you spend so much money at Malena's Fabric Shop, why don't you go in, explain what you are doing, and see if they'll cut you a deal?”

Suddenly an idea popped into Alicia's head. “Hey, at C. G. High's graduation performance, Mr. Jamison gets people to donate all kinds of things by promising them free advertising in the program,” she said. “Maybe we can promise the vendors advertising in Sarita's program.”

Sophia smiled. “That's a great idea. Do you know how many guests Sarita is planning on inviting? The more people are there, the better deals you're liable to land.”

Alicia groaned. Why hadn't she gotten an exact number before? “I'll be right back,” she said with a sigh.

She got up and went to call Sarita. Afterward, she came back to the table and reported, “She's having two hundred people. She says she's got a big family.”

Sophia thought about it for a second. “Two hundred is a lot of people. You're bound to get some deals from people who want free advertising, but then that's also two hundred people you've got to feed.”

“Feed?” Alicia asked.

“Feed,” Sophia repeated. “Have you ever been to a
quince
without food?”

Alicia shook her head.

“Maribelle!” Carmen exclaimed. “Maribelle can make the food.”

Alicia grinned. “
That
is a genius idea.”

“You've still got to pay her for her time and buy all the groceries,” Sophia reminded them.

Alicia laid her head down on the table. “I'm in so much trouble,” she said.

“No,” Sophia said gently. “You're just starting a business. And if it's successful, think about how impressed colleges are going to be with your accomplishment.”

“Think about how much money we'll make,” Carmen added.

“You might make some money, yes,” Sophia said.

“But first we need that final checklist,” Alicia said.

For the next two hours the girls sat and brainstormed. Finally they had their complete list of what needed money.

Sarita's Budget


Dress:


Shoes (Flats and heels):


Hair and makeup:


Venue:


Set design:


Ceremony fees:


Flowers and decorations:


Food and beverages:


Cake:


Music:


Photography:


Invitations:


Limo:


Favors:


Alicia and Carmen looked at each other.

“We've got a lot of work to do,” Carmen pointed out.

“But at least we have a better plan now. Thank you, Sophia.”

“My pleasure. But remember, you've got to plan your work and work your plan,” said Sophia. “Now I've got to go pick up the girls from swim practice. See you later.”

The girls were—once again—on their own.

THE LIST FINALIZED
, Carmen and Alicia took a break and went up to the bedroom Carmen shared with Una. It was about half the size of Alicia's room at home. Even though the sisters were way too old for them, the bunk beds of their childhood were still up, doing their space-saving job. The walls were a soft coral, like the color of fresh-squeezed papaya juice, and there were no taped-up posters of cute boys on the walls. Instead, Una, who hoped to go to art school, had carefully framed her best pieces—portraits of women from the barrio, their ears, necks, and fingers emblazoned with copious amounts of bling. Carmen had found reams of Missoni fabric on eBay—it was because the fabric had a manufacturing defect, but that was not at all visible to the average person—and made curtains and matching bedspreads out of the wavy knit with its lines of hot pink, yellow, and chocolate brown.

“I love your room,” Alicia said, flopping down at the little vanity table that also served as Carmen and Una's desk. Carmen's sewing machine, where she spent most of her free time, was wedged into a nook near the window so she could sew and enjoy the view of the canals at the same time.

“
Ay
, no,” Carmen said, waving her hand dismissively. “We're like the old lady and the shoe up in this piece. Now,
your
room and
your
house, that's the hotness.”

“Speaking of hotness—we're going to see Gaz's friend Hector spin at a club in Surfside tonight,” Alicia said. “You should come.”

Carmen knew what Alicia was doing. She wanted to set her up because Alicia wouldn't admit—even though they all knew it—that she liked Gaz. “Why don't I flat-iron your hair? It always looks so pretty that way,” Carmen said, dodging the question.

Alicia didn't need much prodding. Her hair was naturally curly. She almost never wore it straight, because she couldn't be bothered. But on rare occasions, she did straighten it, and it always got lots of compliments. As the flatiron heated up, Carmen brushed Alicia's hair. Alicia wondered if this were what life with a sister was like—brushing each other's hair, borrowing each other's clothes. As much as Carmen complained about Una, it seemed as if having a sister could be fun.

“Come with us tonight,” Alicia said. Then she cried, “Ouch!” She had forgotten to sit still and had gotten a little sting from the hot iron as it touched her scalp.

“And horn in on your date with Gaz?” Carmen asked.
“No gracias, Mami.”

Alicia tried to reel in the big grin that spread across her face at the words
date with Gaz
. She laughed nonetheless, then felt the laugh catch in her throat. She took a deep breath.

“It's
not
a date,” she said. “So, come with me, please? Because, let's just say that I
did
like Gaz, and let's just say that he
doesn't
like me back; I'm going to need a friend to pick me up from the crying puddle I'll be if he disses me.”

Carmen guffawed, and Alicia smiled. She loved the fact that, while her friend looked like America's Next Top Model, she laughed like a character from
The Simpsons
.

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess I have no choice. I can't abandon my girl in her time of need.”

“Excellent!” Alicia said.

Carmen grinned. “So, you admit it? You
do
have real feelings for our dear Gaz. Is tonight the night that you tell him how you feel?”

“Maybe,” Alicia said, her heart beating wildly. It felt nice to say it out loud. But why didn't Gaz do the guy thing and just ask her out on a real date? If she was the one who said something…and he didn't feel the same way, she'd be heartbroken. Not to mention the fact that it would also be really,
really
awkward.

Carmen ran a few more strands of hair under the flatiron. Alicia reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. She was proud of her curls, but she realized the value of changing things up. Her hair felt like silk threads in her hand.

“Thanks, C.,” she said. “I love it!”

“Of course you do,” Carmen said, proudly. “It's got swagger.”

Alicia jumped out of the chair. “Next issue. What are you going to wear tonight?” she asked excitedly. “We've got to roll into that club with…”

“Swagger,” Carmen said, finishing Alicia's thought and making her laugh.

Both girls were wearing T-shirts, big beaded necklaces, and skinny jeans, tucked into worn boots. But for a night out, they definitely had to take it up a notch.

“Seeing as your closet is as big as my entire bedroom,” Carmen said, “I think I'm going to borrow something from you.”

Alicia smiled. Maybe she shouldn't be jealous of Carmen's having a sister. Borrowing clothes, hooking up each other's hair, there were definitely days when she felt as though she and Carmen were
casi hermanas
. Not quite sisters, but close enough.

Riding in Gaz's hooptie later that night, Alicia rolled down the window and soaked in the night air.

“Notice anything different about me?” she asked Gaz playfully.

“Nope,” he said.

He was staring straight ahead, ever the careful driver. She knew that no matter how many times he was offered a beer that night, he wouldn't take it. He wasn't a prude, and he never commented on what other people did. But he was the most responsible person that Alicia knew. If he said he would call at seven thirty, the phone would ring at seven twenty-nine. Alicia's mother liked to say that Gaz was “right as rain.”

Alicia swung her straight hair around. “Really, nothing?”

“Not a thing.”

Carmen was sitting in the backseat, so they didn't see her roll her eyes. She sometimes got a little tired of being the third wheel around Gaz and Alicia's unspoken romance. “She straightened her hair,” Carmen said, in a voice that she could only hope conveyed how bored she was with the whole thing.

Gaz feigned surprise. “You straightened your hair?”

Alicia beamed. “I certainly did.”

He reached over and touched it. “It's pretty.”

“Get a room,” Carmen mumbled.

Alicia and Gaz stole a quick glance at each other and smiled. Alicia flushed. He had to like her. No, he liked her. He really liked her. Then, because suddenly she felt completely and utterly freaked out, she said, “My brother says there are alligators in this bay. I can't believe it, but I've lived in Miami my entire life and have only ever seen a gator in the zoo.” She knew it was a silly thing to say, but it was safer territory.

“Jamie says that she saw a baby gator in her cousin's toilet in the Bronx,” Carmen piped up.

“And you believe her?” Gaz asked, laughing.

Carmen shrugged. “Well, I don't
not
believe her,” she said, which made both Gaz and Alicia laugh.

Pura Vida, the nightclub where Gaz's friend was spinning, was like something out of a south-of-the-border brochure: bamboo walls, palm-leaf roof, and dirt floors screamed,
Puerto Rico!
and
Tulum!
The casual, palapa-style architecture seemed directly contradictory to the velvet rope that had been erected and the long line of well-dressed men and women waiting impatiently to get in.

Gaz seemed nervous. “I didn't realize it was such a scene. You'd think Hector would've given me a heads-up.”

He pulled his car into the lot next to the club. A guy who looked as if he could've been on a SWAT team—clean shaven, with baseball cap, big muscles, and a Windbreaker that said,
Pura Vida
—motioned for him to roll his window down. “That'll be twenty bucks,” he said.

Gaz was visibly distressed, though Alicia could see he was trying to keep his cool. Of their whole crew, he was the one with the least money, and twenty bucks for parking was a huge stretch for him.

“But we're on the list, man,” Gaz said. “We're with Hector.”

The parking guy shrugged. “Don't know Hector, and there's no list out here. Twenty bones, please.”

Alicia reached for her purse. “I got it.”

Gaz put his hand over hers and shook his head. Her hand tingled, and she wasn't sure if it was because she was worried that she might have offended him or because his hand felt so nice on hers.

“I'm good,” Gaz said, passing the attendant a crisp bill.

“You know what that was,” Alicia said, as they got out of the car.

“Highway robbery?” Gaz asked.

“Nope. Swagger tax,” Alicia said. “We've got so much that they're taxing us on it.”

Even on the short walk from the lot to the front door, they could feel the Miami heat, charging them like an offensive linebacker.

Alicia was wearing a strapless black Zoe jumpsuit with vintage Sigerson Morrison pumps. She reached up instinctively to smooth her hair.

Carmen noticed and smiled. “You're good,” she reassured her. “Plus, I brought backup.”

Carmen was wearing a crocheted dress by Stella McCartney that Alicia had found at a Miami consignment shop. It was a delicate dress, which was why it looked odd with the huge orange and navy tote bag with rope handles that Carmen was carrying—until, opening her purse, she revealed the flatiron.

Alicia guffawed. “No wonder you're carrying such a huge bag!”

“You know what I always say,” Carmen said, grinning. “Talk softly and carry a giant purse. Of course, with the whole
Lost
theme they've got going on here, it's entirely possible that the bathrooms won't have electrical outlets. But I stand by the big-purse thing.”

Inside the club, they quickly found Hector, who was dressed to the nines in a Benjamin Bixby straw hat, a purple and white pin-striped shirt, and khaki linen pants. Carmen was quick to point out how good he looked. Alicia noticed, but it just gave her a sweeter appreciation for Gaz's Gap polo and chinos.

Besides, she thought, it'll be a cold day in the Keys before I date a guy who dresses better than me!

The DJ was playing a trippy MIA-Shakira mash-up: “Sunshowers” mixed with “Te Vuelvas.” But the crowd was loving it, and the hundred or so people on the dance floor didn't seem to mind that there wasn't as much as a ceiling fan in the place.

Alicia looked over at Carmen. “It's so-o-o-o hot.”

Carmen nodded.

Both of the girls were sweating, despite discreet attempts to wipe their faces with the napkins on the table.

“Dancing will only make us hotter,” Alicia observed.

“It will,” Carmen answered.

“Do we care?”

“Not really.”

Laughing, the two girls jumped up and joined the crowd, full of swiveling hips and moving feet. Alicia sang along to the chorus, the Spanish words feeling sweet on her tongue, like chocolate-covered churros.

When they finally took a break from dancing, Hector ordered a round of virgin
mojitos
. When they had quenched their thirst, Hector invited Carmen to hang out with him in the DJ booth during his set. Despite her earlier worries about Alicia's matchmaking, Carmen beamed. Alicia watched her friend stride across the dance floor.

“Take care of my
amiga-hermana
,” she called out to Hector.

“Or else,” she muttered to herself.

“Hey, I think I left my cell in the car,” Gaz said when they'd been alone for a few minutes. “Come with me?”

Alicia shrugged. Gaz was always leaving his cell phone somewhere. She'd once seen him walk into her house, open the freezer door, pull out a pint of ice cream, and, after serving himself a couple of scoops, put his cell in the freezer while the ice cream sat on the counter, melting.

She followed him out the door of the club. As they approached the parking lot, he suddenly stopped.

“This is good,” he said, looking not at her, but at the canopy of stars above them.

Alicia was confused. “Good for what? I thought you needed your cell.”

“Nah. It's just too hot inside. Will you dance with me?” he asked. He reached out to her, and Alicia thought she would die. Her heart was pounding wildly; she hoped beyond hope that her underarm deodorant lived up to expectations, because she was sweating in a decidedly not delicate way.

Alicia shook her head. Was this really—finally—happening? “But we can't even hear the music out here.”

Gaz said, “I'm going to sing for you.”

He held her in his arms and began to sing a song he had written about waves and hellos—
olas
and
holas
.

Alicia pressed her head against his chest, surprised at how natural it felt. She wondered if he would kiss her and if he would be able to tell that, apart from a very wretched game of Seven Minutes in Heaven back in the sixth grade, she had never really
kiss
-kissed a boy before.

She felt him pull away from her, and she closed her eyes, parting her lips ever so slightly. She waited. And waited.

Finally, opening her eyes, she noticed that he was looking not at her, but up at the stars. Her heart sank.