How To Salsa in a Sari (21 page)

If You Can't Get Rid of the Skeleton In Your Closet, You'd Best Teach It to Dance

Issa
stood in the center of the living-room floor, the Snow Queen crown still on her head. Steam vacuums spun around her. The sound of clinking glass could be heard as a trio of maids picked up beer bottles all around the house. A small Russian man touched up the paint chips in the walls with the exact shade of Morena mansion white.

Amazing. So this was how Cat threw her parties and got away with it. Issa was awestruck at the expertise and the speed of the cleaning crowd. Scarcely half an hour after Cat speed-dialed You Wreck It, We Fix It, an army of people had arrived in the driveway in three big white vans. Cat had given rapid directions in Spanish and warned Issa to stay out of their way before disappearing into her room, the only untouched sanctuary in the whole house.

Issa watched as a tiny Mexican woman with a tightly wound braid deftly scooted a white leather couch away from the wall, sprayed carpet cleaner on the soiled spot Issa hadn't even noticed and motioned for the vacuumers to finish up.

How many times had they done this? Issa glanced up at Cat's closed door. No wonder she was so spoiled. She could make any problem go away by throwing money at it. Except one. Cat couldn't get rid of what she thought of as competition for her father's attention. She'd nearly destroyed her high-school career in the process.

“Senorita?”
The expert cleaning lady was holding a vacuum and standing in front of Issa.

“Sorry. Um,
lo siento.
”

“De nada.”
The woman smiled and gestured toward the stairs. Issa removed the crown off her head, realizing how stupid she looked, and took a seat.

She sat and watched the army put the house back together. If only her life could be fixed by a cell-phone number. Issa's stomach churned. She and Cat had called a truce, but what next? She continued to hang with the Belles and tried to dissuade them from making Cat miserable? Not possible. She'd sold her soul to the Belles just to win the crown. They would expect her to pay up, they would expect her to join in all of their exploits to humiliate Cat. And the war at home would never end.

The other option wasn't much better.

She gave up her crown and resumed her life of anonymity? Gigi and Ishaan would probably never speak to her again. She wasn't quite ready to go back to a life of social outcastism yet, this time with not a single friend in her corner.

Adam, a voice whispered. She could have him back. He was waiting for her. He'd made that plenty clear at the dance. They could be a couple again…start the year over.

But thinking of his familiar eyes and sweet smile didn't excite her anymore. She didn't want him. Nor did she want Rake. She felt slimy just thinking of how quickly things with Rake had gotten out of hand. She was not that girl. No guys for a while. She rubbed the sides of her scalp.

“Now what?”

No answer from the heavens. Her identity was something she was going to have to figure out on her own. A hated teen queen or a liked social reject, it was up to her.

“Sucks,” Issa said out loud.

“Do you want to see something?”

Issa whirled around.

Cat was sitting at the top of the stairs. Issa could tell she'd been there awhile. Watching her have a mental conversation like a crazy person.

Issa stood up, still a little wary. Hopefully Cat wasn't planning to show Issa her best drop-kick.

“Come up.”

Issa followed with a safe distance. Cat was inviting her to her room? Issa would have been more comfortable entering the Osbournes' house shortly after one of their drug scandals.

Cat disappeared behind the Princess sign. “Come on in.”

Issa poked her head in and felt like she'd stepped back in time.

Fuzzy pink bedsheets, white curtains, dolls and stuffed animals littering the neatly made bed.

The room looked like it would have belonged to Cat when she was six years old.

Issa glanced at the photographs on the walls. All of Cat and Diego when she was younger. Nothing of Cat as a teenager.

“It's silly,” Cat muttered as she caught Issa looking at her photos.

“It's sweet. Very innocent,” Issa said, and took a seat gingerly on the bed. Sweet. Innocent. But a little weird.

“
Papi's
idea to keep my room like this. He can't see me grow up.”

Was Cat blushing?

“He loves you very much.” Issa felt almost envious as she looked around the room. Cat had had a privileged childhood. So unlike her own childhood with Roy and Alisha always struggling over jobs and money.

In the corner, Issa spotted the Barbie Dream House she'd coveted as a six-year-old. And the Barbie pink Mustang parked out front.

“He loves the eight-year-old me. You're lucky, you know, Alisha treats you as an adult, like her equal. I don't know what that's like.”

Issa was surprised by Cat's honesty. It was true. Alisha had always treated her as an equal. For as long as she could remember, her parents had referred to her as an adult.

But not Diego. Diego hadn't moved past the tragedy that had taken his wife's life. He still clung to the image of Cat as she had been then. Preserved as a little girl.

And Cat, all she wanted was to show him that she was a grown-up now. The hard partying. The guys. All cries for attention, but she was so afraid of disappointing her father, she hid all her escapades.

A silent rebellion.

Here the whole time Issa had thought Cat acted the way she did because she could and did her best to hide it from her father. But it seemed to be that all she'd wanted was for Diego to notice.

She needed a mother.

She needed Alisha.

The realization nearly toppled Issa. Alisha was exactly what Cat needed. Someone who saw her as an equal. Someone who helped her plan for the future and trusted her to act as an adult. And Issa needed Diego. Someone to show her that she was still someone's daughter, not a mother. She still needed to be taken care of sometimes. In some demented way, this whole scenario was fitting half people into wholes.

“What do you think?” Cat was gesturing toward a paint canvas.

Issa let her eyes focus on the easel.
Oh my God.

It was a portrait of the four of them. When had they ever taken a picture together?

Issa recognized the pose she and Alisha were in. They had been at a haunted house the previous year. Alisha was pulling Issa tightly into her shoulder. Alisha's eyes were sparkling and Issa was grinning.

Cat and Diego were in an old-school pose, Cat sitting in a high-backed chair with Diego's hand on her shoulder.

Cat had merged a photograph of her and Diego with a photo of Issa and Alisha and painted it.

Issa couldn't even speak. There it was. The four of them immortalized as a family. Cat had accepted it first and made the theory of the four of them a reality.

“I did it for class. You mom's been helping me. I wanted, to, uh, hang it in the living room. You know, after you guys move in.”

Issa turned to face Cat, a flood of emotions surging through her: understanding, realization and respect.

After they moved in. Cat hadn't even thought for a second that this wedding wouldn't take place. She was ready for her new family.

The Morena-Mazumder family was being born. Diego and Alisha understood it. Even Cat understood it. It was time for Issa to understand it. It was time for Issa to embrace her new life and stop fighting.

“It's awesome.” Issa gestured toward the painting. “I can never do anything like it. Your dad will love it. And, uh, so…so do I.”

Cat smiled.

 

Issa strode through the hallways to the athletes' wing early Monday morning. She'd made some frank decisions and she knew she had to do some things before she chickened out.

“Jenni!” she called as the tall, muscular blond girl came into view.

The frown on Jenni's face didn't disappear as Issa approached. “What do you want?”

Issa knew Jenni was plenty annoyed with her. Going into the voting on Friday morning, there was supposed to be only one name on the ballot, Jenni Wilson, along with a write-in candidate.

Instead there had been two names: Isabelle Mazumder and Jenni Wilson. Isabelle had won by a landslide without even giving Jenni's jock buddies any time to do any campaigning for the popular athlete.

“I need to give you something.”

Jenni, already in her shoulder pads and lacrosse cleats, didn't look impressed. “What? A headache? Look, I hate girls like you. You act all nice, but actually you're scheming and plotting. I didn't think you were like them, but you are. So get out of my way. Or I'll beat your ass.”

Issa took a deep breath. She had been acting like “one of them.” But that was about to change.

“I'm really sorry. This belongs to you.” Issa pulled the glistening Snow Queen crown out of her messenger bag. “I cheated to get it and that was stupid. It's yours.”

Jenni's eyes were on the crown. Suddenly she didn't look like a terrifying linebacker, but instead, an excited teenage girl.

“That's lame,” Jenni said unconvincingly. “The night's over. What do I want with that stupid crown now?”

Issa tried to hide her smile. “I know I can't give you back that night. It should have been you onstage. And you in the spotlight dancing with your boyfriend.”

“Jake.”

“Jake?”

“The guy I like.”

“Yeah, it should have been you and Jake.” Issa held out the crown. “Please take it.”

“Seriously?”

“Totally. Should I put it on you?”

Jenni ducked her six-foot-tall frame down and Issa set the crown on her head.

“Gorgeous.”

She made quite the sight in a lacrosse uniform and a silver tiara, but the smile on her face made her the most beautiful girl in the stinky hallway.

“Wow. Cool.” Jenni didn't take her eyes off herself in her locker mirror.

“It's perfect on you.” Issa grinned. Doing the right thing felt really good. “You should go show Jake right now.”

Jenni grinned. “Yeah. Thanks. I think I will.”

“Nice.” A familiar voice sounded amused.

Issa spun around. Ishaan and Gigi were both smiling as they leaned a few feet away. Gigi's arms were wrapped tightly around Ishaan's waist, her head resting on his chest.

Issa swallowed. They were together. There was no doubt in her mind as Ishaan gently tucked a strand of hair behind Gigi's hear and kissed her forehead.

“That's the Issa we know.” Gigi couldn't stop smiling. “Back to normal now? Is Isabelle dead?”

Issa didn't know whether to laugh or cry. What was normal? Her best friends were talking to her again, but…they were dating. They had moved on without her. Ishaan had decided to take a chance on Gigi and he seemed happy. Really happy. What had become of his mystery woman? Issa wondered.

“I'm really sorry for—I just didn't know where I belonged,” Issa said lamely.

Gigi pulled away from Ishaan. “Don't be a moron. You belong with us.”

Issa swallowed back tears as her friends enveloped her in a hug. This felt right. Finally, things were as they were supposed to be.

When she pulled away, she couldn't help feeling a prick of jealousy as she noticed Ishaan and Gigi gazing into each other's eyes. She couldn't understand if the jealousy was because she was alone, or because she had missed out on a part of her friends' lives. A huge part of their lives.

Or could it be because of the sneaking suspicion that she had fallen for Ishaan without even realizing it?

And now it was too late.

“I have to run. Cheerleading practice.” Gigi giggled. “Iz, call me later, okay?”

Issa nodded and averted her eyes as Gigi pecked Ishaan on the lips.

“See ya, Iz!”

Issa raised her hand in a goodbye.

Ishaan turned his head to watch Gigi walk away and when he faced Issa again, he was smiling.

“You guys seem really happy.” Issa suddenly felt self-conscious. She had no idea how to act around Ishaan and Gigi now. She had a miserable feeling that whenever the three of them hung out from then on, she would be the third wheel.

“I'm happy. I hope she is,” Ishaan said as he twirled his locker combination. “She asked me if I wanted to go to the dance, and I figured—”

“You don't have to explain to me,” Issa said, wondering why he felt the need to do so. “I mean, I was so out of my mind I probably wouldn't have noticed if you two had gotten hitched.”