Chapter Twenty-One

May 2011

While it felt like a much more significant achievement to graduate from college than from high school, only Mandy's parents were there to witness her accomplishment. As much as she said it wasn't a big deal, it kinda was, and now that the day was there staring her in the face, she wished she had pressed the importance of it a little more. At first, she was embarrassed that she graduated a few years after many of the kids she had gone to high school with. Most of them were already knee-deep in their careers of choice, and there Mandy was still trying to figure her shit out. A degree in painting and drawing, another in digital media, with a minor in Spanish seemed like a good idea at the time, but what was she going to do now?

Mandy was an artist. While she of course appreciated the works of so many out there, she wanted to be the one people appreciated. She wanted her paintings to be hanging in museums one day. There were plenty of artists who were idolized with a lot less talent than Mandy. She didn't just paint a bunch of dots on a canvas and call it great art.

She fussed with the tassels around her neck; they kept slipping to one side, and the last thing Mandy wanted was for them to fall off or for her to trip over them as she made her way across the stage. Not that anyone besides her parents was there to see it, and they loved her and were proud of her no matter what. Deep down Mandy really wanted Isa to be there, but she had her own finals she couldn't miss. Mandy understood better than anyone how important school was for Isa, but it didn't make it any easier that she wasn't there on Mandy's special day.

If it hadn't been for Isa, Mandy might never have even gone back to school. It had been spring break, and Isa had come home once again to visit her mom and abuela—this time without Tally. It wasn't that Mandy didn't like Tally, it just always felt like Tally was competing for Isa's attention when Mandy was around, or Tally had to make it clear that Isa was with her. The way she would always find a reason to touch Isa or to interrupt with a story about their life in Boston. Mandy had her chance with Isa and blew it; she knew that and didn't need the constant reminder.

But that week Isa was back without Tally. Isa had finally stopped asking Mandy "Why?" by that point and seemed to be okay with how things were. Maybe she finally accepted Mandy was never going to give her a real answer because she couldn't. In many ways it felt like old times. When they could tell each other anything and could finish each other's sentences.

"You haven't said anything, but I know you have an opinion already, so just tell me." Isa and Mandy had been walking on the beach, heading toward the pier, where Mandy contemplated getting an elephant ear, but she knew immediately what Isa was talking about, and had been avoiding the conversation since Isa showed up at her door. Now, it seemed, there would be nothing preventing them from having this discussion.

"Honest opinion?" Mandy asked to buy her a little time. Things had been going okay between them, and she really wasn't ready to mess that up.

"They're that bad. I knew it." Isa tried to cover her face with her hair, but a gust of wind made her efforts fruitless. "Why didn't you say something before we left the house? I could've cut bangs or something."

Mandy almost laughed, but she held it in. When Isa showed up with extremely manicured eyebrows, the last thing Mandy wanted to do was mention them. "Bangs would just highlight them more."

"Not if they were long enough." Isa pressed her hand on her forehead. "When my regular girl wasn't there, I should've left. Why didn't I leave?"

"Because you're too nice." That was true. Out of the two of them, Isa was definitely the nicer one.

"Too stupid, is more like it." Isa stopped, so Mandy did too. "You can show me how to fix them, right? With like a brow pencil and some of your magic."

Mandy took the opportunity to study her friend. Really study her the way she used to be able to before. The dusting of the faintest freckles were still on Isa's cheeks. Her Cupid's bow was still higher on the right side, and her bottom lip just as full. And her eyes. Her eyes were still a place Mandy wished she could get lost in. "They're different, that's all. They aren't ‘bad,' just different."

"Are you sure? You wouldn't lie to me about this, would you?" That question stung deep. Before, she wouldn't have ever asked Mandy such a thing. Before, she would've taken Mandy's word and moved on. But things were different now, not just Isa's brows.

"I wouldn't lie to you." Mandy surprisingly kept her voice steady. "And if you want, I can show you how to fill them in a little more. Not"—Mandy rushed to say—"because they look bad, but if it would make you feel better, I'd be happy to do it."

"It would."

"Then I'll help you."

Isa started walking again. It took Mandy a second to pull her feet out of the soft sand she had been shimmying them down in to— just as good as a pedicure , Sophie would say—and caught up with Isa.

They were both quiet then for a little while. Was Isa regretting asking Mandy for help? Should Mandy try to get the conversation rolling again or just be quiet? The cool water lapped against Mandy's toes when Isa turned to her and said, "You should go to college." Just like that. Of course, Isa somehow knew it was an idea that had been playing at the back of Mandy's mind even though she had never mentioned it.

"I don't know," Mandy responded.

"What else are you going to do? Work at Grace's Art and Supply for the rest of your life?" Isa kicked water at Mandy's legs, splashing all the way up to her shorts.

"Hey." Mandy kicked water back, getting Isa equally wet.

"Okay, truce." Isa brushed water from her thighs. "But you know what I mean. You're better than this. You're smart and talented. You can't let that go to waste."

Would they have had the conversation if Tally were around? Mandy would never know for sure, but she was grateful for it no matter what. "I suppose."

Isa gave her a look—one that said Mandy was being too hard on herself, and maybe she was. "UCLA has a great art program. Yale does too."

"You think I'm getting into Yale?" Wasn't it on the East Coast somewhere?

Isa shrugged. "I think you can get into anywhere you put your mind to. You're good, Mandy. It's time you started believing that."

Mandy stayed quiet, the wet sand smooshing between her toes. Why was believing in yourself so hard to do?

"I'll help you with applications if you want."

"You want to help me?"

"Why do you sound so surprised? That's what friends do." Isa didn't smile when she said it, more like she was testing out how those words felt on her lips.

"I'd like that," Mandy blurted. She didn't want Isa to think too long about it—have time to take it back.

"Well then. What are we waiting for?"

If it hadn't been for Isa, Mandy would've never gotten to this point in life—graduation—and it felt strange not celebrating it with her.

Mandy did walk across the stage without tripping, and had her picture taken way too many times—thanks, Mom. But it wasn't until she was sitting down at dinner—with fancy white tablecloths and too many pieces of silverware, where the chandeliers were bigger than small cars and sparkled like a million stars—that Mandy felt truly excited that day.

"We're so proud of you, honey," Mom said as she raised her champagne glass.

"To the future." Dad clicked his against Mom's, and then Mandy joined in.

As she brought the glass to her lips, she was hit with the floral notes of the golden liquid sparkling inside. She took a sip—the bubbles dancing on her tongue. Going to dinner with her parents always meant good wine—Mom had a knack for picking just the right bottle. And since today they were celebrating, Dad didn't even complain about the price.

"Speaking of futures," Mom said, "your father and I think it might be a good idea if you move home for a little while. Just until you get your feet under you."

Mandy figured this would be coming. She had been lucky enough that they paid her rent while she was in school, but she wasn't in school anymore, and her lease would be ending soon.

"But what if I get a job? Then I might have to commute," Mandy reasoned.

"Not if you let your father talk to his colleague. Didn't you say Bert's husband's company was looking for someone to help in marketing? You could do that, couldn't you?" Mom's expression was so encouraging, Mandy wasn't sure if she should be appreciative or annoyed. Mom was just trying to be helpful—it's what she did. But Mandy didn't go to school to work in marketing.

"I want to do something with art," she said.

"You would be making ads, I think, isn't that right, dear?" Mom turned to Dad.

"Dale would be happy to share the details of the position, plus it's a great company with an excellent benefits package."

Mandy had officially been an adult since she was eighteen, but here at this table, she was starting to see that real adulting wasn't just being able to vote, join the military, or buy cigarettes. She would have to think about insurance, and 401(k)s, and retirement. All terms she heard about in the business classes Dad insisted she take. Classes she passed, but not ones she thrived in or enjoyed. "I just might want to see what else is out there." That was fair, wasn't it?

"It's a great position, and they won't be able to hold it for you," Dad said. "You really need to think about your future. You got to do your thing in college, but now it's time to be serious."

"We just want what's best for you," Mom said.

It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since Mandy received her diploma. What happened to Let's celebrate tonight and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow ? Would that have been so hard to say? And Mandy was very serious about her artwork, so what the heck was Dad even talking about?

"You need to think practically," Dad said.

Luckily, before Mandy could answer him, her phone rang.

She flashed the screen to show her parents who it was and picked up.

"Congratulations!" Isa yelled into her ear.

"Tell her we say hi," Mom cut in.

"Thank you. My parents say hi. How were your tests?"

"Hi back," she said, and Mandy waved to her parents like it was Isa waving to them while Isa continued to talk. "Ugh, so brutal. I would've much rather been there." Isa sighed. "Oh, Tally says congratulations too."

Mandy bet Tally was sitting right there, listening in on everything Mandy and Isa talked about. "Tell her thank you."

Isa mumbled, "Thank you," in the background and then much louder said, "Tell me all about it."

The overwhelming chatter that surrounded Mandy, along with the clinking of silverware against plates, faded into the background as she recounted the day's events with Isa. If the noise was a problem on her end, Isa didn't mention it as she said, "Uh-huh," in all the right places. Mom and Dad sipped their wine and had their own conversation, only butting in a few times to point out something Mandy had forgotten to mention. In a way it almost felt like Isa was there with them. Almost.

As the appetizer plates were taken away, followed by the salad course, Mandy's battery was getting low, and Isa had to get back to Tally, so they said their goodbyes.

"Love you for real," Mandy said.

"Back atcha," Isa responded, and a pain slammed into Mandy's chest. Did she not say it because Tally was there? Did Mandy do something wrong? As she slid the phone into her purse, questions spiraled through her head, and she replayed their conversation over again trying to figure out where things had gone off track or if they had at all. This was the first time one of them didn't say, "Love you for real back," and for all the wonderful things that had happened to Mandy that day, this one moment crushed them all.

"So how is she?" Mom asked.

"Good. Isa's good," was all Mandy could say.

"Now that we've got your attention again, we can talk about you moving back home."

"Yeah, sure, Mom, whatever."

"So you agree?" Mom's voice brightened.

"It's for the best, right?" Home was exactly where Mandy wanted to be right then—curled on the couch, crying on Mom's shoulder—but she couldn't ruin the night for her parents. Mandy slid her napkin from her lap and placed it on the table. "I'll be back in a minute." She plastered on a smile. "Bathroom," she said, but that wasn't where Mandy was headed.