Chapter 9

9

"This." Amá Sonya lifts a skirt suit that looks like it's made of pure silk, in the color of seafoam.

I barely glance up from my phone. We've been shopping with Amá for literal hours. I'm not saying it's the worst thing ever, but if there were a hell, it would look very similar to this scenario: me, having already picked out a few outfits for hopefully job hunting (as well as a few dresses to give to Sage, who missed this trip 'cause of work), all in Amá-approved designers. Amá, not letting us eat lunch until we find clothes for Sky, too. And Sky deciding to be the most indecisive young woman in human history when it comes to her rich-ass grandmother spoiling her with a new wardrobe.

I glance at the skirt suit once more. "That will literally get dirty the moment I sit down for a meal."

"This isn't for eating in, Teal Alegría. It's for meetings. Appointments." She gives me a long glare. "Courthouse weddings."

I keep my sigh inside. "I know you're mad we're doing it at the courthouse—"

"Mad?" Amá grits her teeth and crosses her arms. "Do I look mad to you?" She's baring her fangs like a serpent.

"Uhh—"

"It's just that you're the first grandchild to get married, and you want to do it at the courthouse? Do you know how that looks? Everyone's going to think you're—" She looks around and whispers, "With child."

I can't help rolling my eyes, even though I know that will just make her madder. "Sage is the one who is pregnant."

"Sí, and she will be bursting out of her wedding dress! Getting married in September, giving birth in November! Two granddaughters pregnant before marriage, what will everyone say?"

"But I'm not pregnant, Amá. You know that, right? I've never even—" I stop myself. I can't believe I was about to tell my elderly grandmother that I've never had sex with the man I'm going to marry tomorrow.

Amá furrows her brow. "Teal? Are you—" She lowers her voice. "Pure?"

It takes a lot of effort to not burst out into laughter. Thankfully, at that moment, Sky stomps out of the fitting room.

Amá gasps. "See?" She points while widening her eyes at me. " This is elegance."

Sky crosses her arms as she stands in front of the triptych of mirrors. She's got on a dress Amá chose for her—billowy with long, flared sleeves. The color is a shiny pink. I don't know the brand but I saw the price tag when Amá hurled it into my arms to hand to Sky. It is five thousand fifty dollars. Yes, it looks amazing on Sky. But what any of us would do with a dress that nice, I don't know.

Sky seems to have the same thoughts. She shifts her weight on her feet. "I just don't know where I would wear this."

"To your sister's wedding." Amá shrugs like it's a done deal.

"But this is way fancier than Sage's wedding dress. And, I'm sure, whatever Teal's going to wear."

"That's their problem, not yours."

I wave my hand. "Uh, I'm sitting right here, you know. And no offense, but neither of you are invited to my wedding." Carter and I had decided that over text. I didn't want my family involved more than necessary, seeing that this whole arrangement was a lie. And he didn't want his family there, either, to "avoid drama." Hence, no one but us would be present at our disappointing courthouse nuptials.

Amá just cuts a look at me that says We'll see about that . Out loud, she insists, "Your hermana looks like a runway model."

"Agreed. She looks phenomenal. But she also looks miserable."

Sky isn't even listening to us. Her face is pitiful as she folds and unfolds her hands, examining the fabric on her arms.

Amá can't deny that Sky is unhappy. So she gestures to me and says, "Fine. You pick her new wardrobe, since you're so smart."

"Fine." Do I want to be my sister's personal shopper? No. Do I want this to be over with as soon as possible so I can get some lunch? Hell yes. I stand and grab Sky's hand and we disappear into the changing room together.

"What are you doing?" she asks. "I don't need an audience to change."

"Um, just last Saturday you basically invited Carter in my bedroom while I was in my underwear."

"You had a towel on!"

"Whatever. I'm just saying, we need to get it together. Let's find you a bunch of Amá-approved clothes so we can eat, for gods' sake."

Sky sighs as she steps out of the dress and pulls on a tattered pair of too-short boot cut jeans and an even worse-looking giant coral hoodie. As she sits to pull on her white Payless sneakers, I take a long look at her.

When Sky fell at sixteen, she was something like five foot nine with almost no curves to speak of. Now she's almost six feet tall with hips and an enviable round bottom. I mean, I have to squat a lot to get what she's got natural.

My baby sister basically had this super traumatic, supernatural coma, and woke up an adult, but she hasn't had any time to really adjust to it. She's always sort of curling in on herself like she doesn't own her limbs. A lot of times it seems like she's flailing, trying to figure out this new body. She's tall, and thin, with rosebud lips, cheekbones people emulate with contour, and hair that's light chestnut on top and naturally fades to a honey blond at its ends. She literally looks like a young Shakira—not that Shakira really ages—and yet she's still dressed like an insecure teenager from 2009.

And she looks sad as hell.

"Hey," I say softly so that Amá can't hear. Lord knows that woman is a snoop. "What's the matter?"

Sky shrugs. "I'm just hungry like you."

"No, you're upset."

Sky sighs. "I saw Adam at the wedding." She raises an eyebrow at me. "He talked to you, didn't he?"

"Yes." I sit down next to her. "He asked if I was your sister."

Sky looks down. "He didn't ask you out or anything?"

I make a face. "No. Why would he?"

Sky shakes her head. "I…His grandpa mentioned he'd be there at the wedding. I was really excited. I wore…you know."

Oh, I know. Sky insisted on wearing the dress she had been planning on wearing to prom the year she fell. Nadia had saved it in plastic wrap all these years. It was a knee-length, electric blue halter top with dull, plasticky jewels sewn into the bodice that, for a sixteen-year-old, was cute, but for a grown woman, was…kind of a lot. Also, the fact was that dress had been out of style for almost a decade. But none of us said anything—not Sage, Nadia, or even Sonya. 'Cause Sky never got to go to prom. She never will. So if she wanted to wear her prom dress, not one of us was gonna stop her.

"I felt…I felt beautiful."

I sense a but coming and I really, really want to nip it in the bud. "You were beautiful. You are beautiful."

Sky shakes her head. "Not to Adam."

I narrow my eyes. "Did he say something to you to suggest otherwise?" I'm planning a visit to Old Man Noemi in my mind, to find Adam and to hurt him. Badly.

"No, it wasn't…" She sighs again. "So, during the reception, I went outside, and there were…" She buries her face in her hands. "Chipmunks. And pigeons. In that little courtyard by the ballroom."

"Go on."

"I was kind of overwhelmed by the loud music, and I wanted to just be in my element, with the criaturas, you know? I had a chipmunk in one hand and a pigeon in the other when…when he found me."

I can't help but smile at the image of Adam discovering Sky, wearing a dated prom dress, cuddling two wild animals.

"He stopped short and blinked like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. And then he scolded me. He said I was going to get hurt, because animals like that could have all kinds of diseases." She frowns. "It was his tone. The way a father figure would speak to his twelve-year-old kid. He didn't leave me until he watched me put the animals down."

"You didn't say anything?"

Sky shakes her head. "My voice was stuck in my throat. Here was this guy, who I built up in my head. He's so generous and kind with his grandfather. He's so accomplished—did you know he's employed by the New York Times ?"

I barely refrain from rolling my eyes. Not only has Sky told me about Adam's work about two hundred times, Adam Noemi has become a kind of legend here in Cranberry. At the Lounge, when there's a lull in conversation, someone will bring up one of his latest articles, or mention that he's currently in Peru with his latest investigative journalism, or some chick will brag about having slept with him last time he was in town. If Cranberry High had a decent football team and one of the players went pro, everyone would be gagging over him. But instead, we have Adam. The amiable, handsome fellow who gets out of the small town with a kind of success most of us only ever see in the movies.

Sky continues, "And he's also, you know. Hot. But with me…he saw me as a child and treated me like one, too." She swallowed. "Anyway, when we went in, I pointed you out, because I couldn't think of anything to say. I was like, there's my sister, and when I went to go to you, he said his grandfather was looking for me. And he had totally perked up when he saw you. Because, and I could just tell, so don't tell me I'm making this up, Teal. He saw you as a woman . He walked over to you right away with all this interest ."

"He didn't ask me out, Sky. And I would've never said yes if he had." I would never go with a guy one of my sisters was into. Even if Carter wasn't my date and hadn't asked me to fake-marry him, like, thirty minutes before.

"That's fine. And I believe you. But it's—" She throws up her hands. "I'm a kid to him. I know it ultimately doesn't matter, how a man sees me. But it was still a huge blow to my ego."

Normally, I'd tell her she's right. The way some man sees her doesn't matter. I'd tell her she's beautiful and I'm hungry so let's please buy her some pretty outfits. I would center this on me eating and getting home as soon as possible.

But number three on my resolutions list is Make it up to Sky . I'm the reason she's missed eight years. I'm the reason she's feeling this way.

I take a deep breath and hold out my hand. "Give me your phone."

She wrinkles her nose. "Why?"

"Ahora, Sky."

She pulls it from the pocket of her hoodie and drops it in my hand.

I open it up and scroll until I find Pinterest.

"Wait—what are you doing?"

I hold my hand out, blocking her as she tries to get it back. "I want to know what you've been pinning." Sky's only just discovered this app, and I swear she spends more time on that than any other social media.

I smirk as I find an album dedicated to style. "Sky Flores. You are a secret sexy librarian!"

"What? No! Give it back, Teal."

"Look at this. Pencil skirts. Tweed blazers. Lace camisoles." I gasp and look up at her pink face. "Stockings with the seams in the backs!"

"That's nothing. It's just pretty." Finally she snatches her phone back, but I'm all smiles.

Sky already knows what I'm doing. "There's nowhere to wear that stuff. Or this." She jerks her thumb in the direction of the pink Barbie dress Amá had chosen. "I can't even get a job. No one wants to hire the town freak. There's no reason for me to own a pencil skirt to wear at home while catching up on Gilmore Girls ."

"You are getting a job. Sooner or later. And you need to be ready." I open the changing room door. "Come on. I know your style now, so this should be easy."

Even though Sky is reluctant at first, she soon gets into it as I find whatever I can that matches her Pinterest boards. I find her knitted cardigans and sweater vests, collared shirts and lots of lacey camis. And so many damn pencil skirts. Thankfully Amá thinks pencil skirts are the height of casual-wear sophistication, so she approves all of it. When we finally make it to a restaurant for lunch—at almost dinnertime—Sky's got shopping bags upon shopping bags filled with everything a hot librarian would need, and then some. I insisted she get her first real handbag, too—a Celine carryall-type with leather trim and gold hardware.

"You don't want a bag, too?" Amá had asked.

I almost said yes. I always want another handbag. But I shook my head. "I have all I need." I gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Amá."

I swear, the old woman almost smiled. Just almost, though.

She's been like that since— almost pleasant to be around. Even me gobbling down a ginormous plate of eggplant Parmesan didn't piss her off like normal. I take a sip of my wine and decide to push my luck by saying, "So, our mother's in town, huh?"

Amá just about growls and looks around. I don't know why. Sky's in the bathroom, and I'm pretty sure my mom's not hiding in this fancy little Italian restaurant. But that's how Amá is. She always thinks people are spying on her, trying to figure out all her dirty laundry. Maybe the ability to see ghosts made her that paranoid, or maybe it was a regular old dose of narcissism. Who knows.

I raise an eyebrow. "Is that a yes?"

Amá shakes her head and gives me an expression I think she intends to come off as bored, but instead she looks a bit constipated. "You know your mother. We haven't seen her in twenty-two years now."

"But I heard you and Nadia—"

"You heard nothing , Teal Alegría." She glowers at me as though I'd asked her what number facelift she was on and not whether she'd recently spotted the woman who had birthed me. "And if you keep talking like this, I'm returning everything. Even Sky's purchases."

That shut me up. And, to be honest, kind of ruined a fun day.