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Authors: Diana Rodriguez Wallach

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Next, I opened Alex's.
Hola
Mariana!
¿Como estas? Estoy bien.
Puerto Rico's not the same without you and Lilly. School's boring. Just a bunch of stupid Americans—oops, sorry. How was your first day? Is Spring Mills everything you remembered it to be?
I hear Teresa's moving to the States. Is that weird for you? I remember you had a hard time with everything here. I hope it's gotten easier. I asked Teresa to bring a surprise to your birthday party. I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten. Hope you like it.
Miss you
mi amor
.
—Alex
I read the e-mail three more times just to make sure I understood.
I asked Teresa to bring a surprise to your birthday party.
How did Alex know about my party (I hadn't told him yet) and who invited Teresa?
“What? ¿
Que paso
?” Lilly asked, gawking at my shocked expression.
I wagged my head at the screen as my leg bounced.
“Is my house turning into the freakin' CIA or something?” I mumbled.
“What are you talking about?”
I didn't respond.
“Hey, did you hear me? I said I think I found your band.”
I ignored her. Instead I stood up, grabbed my laptop, and charged into the kitchen.
“Dad!
Dad!
”
Chapter 14
I
was finding it very hard to focus on chemistry the next day, considering there was a very real possibility that my uncle might attempt to kill his half sister during my Sweet Sixteen. It wasn't that I didn't find the proton numbers in atomic nuclei fascinating; it was just that they couldn't possibly compare to the atomic bomb that was my guest list.
It was Thursday afternoon, and as I tapped my pencil on my lab desk, my nerves spun into overdrive. I had to diffuse this situation. Only I couldn't rely on my father. When I had confronted him last night, he had accused me of being dramatic,
again
.
“Dad, would it have killed you to tell me that you were inviting some random
tia
to my birthday party?”
“Mariana, can you please not make a scene over this?” he griped, loosening his tie.
Lilly, Madison, and my mom were standing behind me in the family room. From the eye contact my parents were making, I could tell they had conspired together. My mom was probably waiting for the right moment to jump in and break up our argument, but I wasn't about to back off. Not this time.
I clutched my auburn hair in my fists, and I sucked in a long breath.
“Dad, I get that you don't feel the need to include me in all aspects of our family history. But would it kill you to maybe, just maybe, clue me in on the major events that do affect me?” I felt my heart thump in my gut as the words gushed out. “For example, shipping me and Vince off to Puerto Rico without saying ‘Hey, by the way, you might run into my half sister,' was a bad idea. Not telling us that this same woman was moving across the bridge to Jersey was also a bad idea. But, at the very least, how could you possibly not think it important to inform me,
ME,
that you had decided to invite this ticking family time bomb to my birthday party?”
“God, Mariana, must you be so
dramatic
?” my father growled with an exasperated sigh.
Prior to this summer, he had never once accused me of being a drama queen, but now it was becoming a nickname of choice for his daughter. If he only knew what a real drama queen looked like (maybe he should spend some time at Madison's house), he would be grateful for how rational I was. But no, my father actually thought he had reason to complain about his difficult, “dramatic” daughter. Not that I dared point out how lucky he was to have me; it would only have made his facial vein pulse harder.
“Mariana. Hey, Mariana,” Bobby grabbed my wrist and shook it slightly.
My eyes refocused on my chemistry classroom, and I realized everyone was gawking at me.
“I'm sorry, what?” I asked with a nervous cough, peering at Mr. Berk who was leering from a few feet away.
“I asked what element is represented by the symbol Pb,” he bellowed as he adjusted his frameless glasses.
“Oh, um, lead,” I answered, sitting up straight.
“Good, thank you.”
Mr. Berk turned back toward the chalkboard and straightened his lime green bow tie. It was one of his many quirks. He was only in his thirties, but he seemed to find it clever to dress like a little old man. It was a shame, because I could tell that he'd almost be cute if he wasn't so odd. He had thick dark hair (rare for men these days), a tall, thin build, and pale hazel eyes. But once you added the bow ties, the zip up Mr. Rogers sweaters, the loafers with tassels, and the gray fedora hat, you got a guy who was justifiably single.
“What's up with you?” Bobby whispered. “You've been spaced out the whole class.”
“I don't know. Random drama.” I sighed.
“Your birthday party?”
“How did you know?”
I hadn't put together the e-vite yet. I wasn't planning on sending it until Sunday. Most teens at Spring Mills preferred to distribute birthday invitations over a weekend to preempt any uninvited castoffs from finding out and getting confrontational.
“Oh, I don't know. I must have heard it around,” he said as he jotted his chemistry notes from the board.
“This is ridiculous. I haven't even invited anyone yet.”
“Oh, sorry. I mean, I didn't think that I'd be ...”
“No, it's not you. Of course you're invited. It's just ...”
“No, you don't have to explain. I shouldn't have brought it up.”
Ever since the bonfire, things between Bobby and me had been awkward at best. We had barely spoken all week. I didn't blame him for letting it drop—not too many students would want to rehash being called a “loser.” But it was the hand-holding that had me tongue-tied. I kept reminding myself that he was a filmmaker and that he was probably going for the cinematic effect: “Cut to the strong couple storming off into the dark night handin-hand.” Only there was something about his touch that reminded me of Alex, and it kept me from sharing the detail with Madison and Emily.
When I had originally told Emily I was his lab partner, she had acted completely disinterested. When I had asked about their date this summer, she'd brushed me off. And when I would drop tidbits from our chemistry conversations, she'd glance away and look bored. I couldn't tell if she liked him, if she hated him, or if she was just genuinely over him. But he definitely touched a nerve. She had never had a problem talking about guys to me before. Of course, I had never had a problem asking her either.
“I don't think a lot of people know. About your party,” Bobby whispered. “Emily mentioned it to me this morning.”
My eyes whizzed up from my notebook, and I caught Mr. Berk staring at our table. We were supposed to be determining the number of neutrons and electrons in a series of elements using the atomic mass and proton numbers provided on the periodic table. All it required was a basic algebraic equation, but my mind wiped clean the minute Bobby mentioned Emily's name.
“I didn't realize you and Emily still talked,” I mumbled.
“We don't. Not really. She just came up to me this morning.”
“Oh, that's cool. I mean, she's my best friend... .”
“I know,” Bobby whispered, cutting me off. “I know.”
He dropped his head, throwing his dark blond hair into his eyes as he focused on his work. I wanted to say something, but I felt like the conversation was over. I turned my focus back to chemistry and finished my problems.
After class ended, I sped into the hallway and collided with a jock. His shoulder crashed against mine, sending me stumbling back. I quickly tightened my grip on my books and found my balance. I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of dropping everything I had into a heaping mess on the ground. By now I had the defense down pat. It was the third time it had happened today.
Evan and his totally unoriginal friends had been “accidentally” bumping me as retribution for the showdown at the bonfire. They didn't body slam me, just strategically nudged me with their massive physiques when I crossed their paths. None of them said anything, and it probably wasn't obvious to the classmates around that I was an intentional target, but I was well aware of the intimidation technique. Vince used to pull it on me at home. Every time he and my dad had a blowout and I didn't take his side, Vince would spend the next week smashing into me on the way to the bathroom. Thankfully I knew Evan and his friends would eventually tire and back off. Vince always did.
I glimpsed back to see who hit me. It was Evan. He locked eyes with me and smirked like his actions were so clever. I smiled wide in return. At least I could annoy him by refusing to offer the reaction he so desperately desired.
He looked away first.
I turned and walked to Madison's locker. She was digging through her jumbled books and binders. School had been in session for less than a month, and already her space was a disaster zone. In contrast, my books were lined by height and color-coded by subject. My locker was always tidy.
“Hey, girls,” I said as I approached.
“Was that Evan Casey who just slammed into you?” Emily asked.
“Yeah, he's such a dick.”
“Well, you did kinda start it,” Madison grumbled as she tossed a book in her bag. “Does Bobby know you're taking physical abuse for him?”
“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes. “If I could handle Vince, I can handle Evan. He barely grazes me. And speaking of Bobby, I hear you told him about my party.” I shifted my gaze to Emily.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Why? Was I not supposed to?”
“Well, I'm not sending the e-vite until this weekend. But aside from that, I didn't think you guys were talking. I thought things were weird since this summer.”
Madison and Emily briefly caught eyes.
“No, we're okay. I'm mean, we're not weird. Not because of that. Why? What did he say?” Emily's voice turned squeaky.
“Nothing, relax. He just said that he spoke to you. Why? Is there, like, something going on? Because I could talk to him if you want?”
“No!” Emily shouted. “It's nothing. I figured you already told him about the party since you guys are friends and all.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. I couldn't tell if she was actually checking her messages or if she just wanted to look busy so she didn't have to face me.
“We are friends in the lab-partner sense of the word.”
“Do all lab partners defend each other's honor?” Madison asked.
“'Cause if so, Shelly Jaffe is seriously not pulling her weight. I've been sitting next to that girl for more than a month, and she's barely let me borrow a pencil.”
“Very funny.” I scrunched my nose at her.
Just then Lilly popped up at the end of the hallway. Usually she was at tennis practice by now.
“What's going on?” I asked as she walked over.
“Nothing, it's just I heard you invited Betsy's friends to your party.” Her eyes narrowed.
“No, I didn't.”
“Well, she told me she heard about it. She knew the date, the theme, everything.”
I swiveled my head toward Madison. Her face was buried in her backpack.
“Uh, you got something you want to tell me?”
“I plead the fifth,” she mumbled, still staring into her bag.
“Madison! This is a
small
thing. Why the heck are you blabbing about it?”
“Because it's a party! Spic, you've got to start inviting people.”
Lilly's brown eyes bulged as her jaw collapsed toward the tile floor.
“What did you just call her?” she shouted, her forehead crumpled.
The muscles in my shoulders clamped down as I held my breath.
“What?” Madison asked with a breezy shrug.
“I can't believe you just said that. Man, and you're supposed to be her friend?”
Madison stepped back, looking Lilly up and down.
“I
am
her friend.”
“Wow, I'd hate to hear what you call your enemies.”
“Oh, please. You don't know me. You barely know
her
.” Madison waved her wrist at me.
“Yeah, keep tellin' yourself that. At least, I'm not the one throwing around racial slurs. I have more respect for
my
friends.”
All the saliva dried in my mouth, and my heart shifted to warp speed. I didn't know what to say. I had let Madison and Emily call me that for years. It was my fault as much as it was theirs. Of course, Lilly had every right to take offense. Unlike me, she had probably been on the receiving end of attacks like that before. She knew what that word meant.
“I didn't mean it like that,” Madison snapped, rustling her shiny blond hair. “Stop making it into something bigger than it is.”
“Oh, really? Well, try dropping the ‘n' word in a room full of black people and passing it off as ‘
I didn't mean it like that
.' I'm sure that'd go over big.” Lilly mocked Madison in the same “Back in Spring Mills ...” voice she used to ridicule me this summer.
Madison's blue eyes immediately hardened. She stepped toward my cousin.
“It is
not
the same thing!”
“Yes, it is!”
“No, it's not! You're acting like I'm racist.”
“No,
you're
acting like you're racist.”
“Stop it!” I yelled, diving between the two of them. I thrust my hands in both directions. Emily silently watched.
“Look, this is my fault.” I peered at Lilly. “Madison didn't mean it like that. I know how it sounds, but it's just a stupid nickname that got started years ago. I was too dumb to stop it.”

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