Page 33

Chapter 33

James

Isa floated around the piano during the song, but she ended it sitting on my lap. What are you doing? I gave her a look when she crooked her arm around my neck.

Giving them a show, she’d replied with her smile. Her hair fell in a brown velvet sheet over her shoulder—a tease if there ever was one. I still hadn’t been able to run my hands through it. But there would be time.

We had all the time in the world.

I wanted to kiss her afterward but thought it would be over-the-top. This song wasn’t ours, and we both knew it. Instead, Isa smiled and gave my nose a warm little nuzzle. It drove the audience wild, like we’d just performed our chart-topping duet at the VMAs and they were shipping us as a real-life couple (not that I kept track of that stuff or anything). “We should introduce ourselves,” Isa murmured. “Or ‘outro’ ourselves.” She giggled. “Whatever you want to call it.”

“Yeah, all right,” I murmured back before we took in the crowd. “Thank you for having us, everyone!” I called as Isa took hold of my hand, threading our fingers together. “I’m James, this is Isa…” We both mentally counted to three, and then together shouted, “And we’re In the Luxembourg Gardens!”

I mean, technically we were in Fairmount Park. I didn’t need to be reminded that we were in Philadelphia, not Paris. But there was something about that painting, the one Isa had texted me while at the art museum. In the Luxembourg Gardens by John Singer Sargent. Something about that couple strolling arm in arm, happily and openly together. That’s Isa and me, I’d thought, and when I’d texted her as much, she agreed. It was the perfect band name.

And man, it felt so good.

Until the actual wedding band took back the stage and Isa suggested we find Grace and Everett. “It’ll be fine!” she said when I hesitated. Maybe I was kind of nervous about Grace knowing, after all. “I already told her about us.”

“And how’d she take it?” I asked.

“She was stunned at first,” Isa answered, her lips twitching up in a smile. “But she bounced back much faster than I thought she would. I just had to explain your many award-winning qualities and promise we’d choose a band name.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you did.”

As we weaved our way through wedding guests, Isa filled me in on the day’s drama. Apparently Everett had apologized for being such a jerk when he’d dumped her, Isa had chewed Grace out for her secret obsession with Everett, my sister hadgone nuts when she found out Isa had been texting me, and Principal Unger was on the loose in the city. “Oh, and my father—” she added, but then totally dropped off.

I furrowed my brows. “Your father what?”

Isa almost never referred to her dad like that. Unless she was especially frustrated with her parents, they were Papá and Mamá. Mrs.Cruz became “my mother” way more often than Mr.Cruz became “my father.”

But the flames in her eyes told me she wanted him burned at the fucking stake. “This is something big,” I guessed, curving an arm around her waist after we escaped the dance floor. “Something bad.”

“We ran into him at a restaurant,” she told me, voice cool and detached like she didn’t want to stoke the fire yet. “He’s having an affair, J. He’s cheating on Mamá.” A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it and blinked away the others. “With a millennial. She’s a millennial. ”

“Fuck, Izzy…” I scrubbed my face. “Do you want a cup of coffee?” It was an inside joke, my way of asking if she wanted to rant. Conveniently, the wedding reception’s coffee and tea service were within sight. Our hosts wouldn’t mind, wouldthey?

“Yes, but later.” Isa kissed my cheek before slipping her hand into mine. “Right now my full and undivided attention belongs to you. ”

I smiled and squeezed her hand, but then suddenly, there was Grace. Isa and I’d reached the outskirts of the terrace, where she and Everett waited for us.

Grace opened her mouth to say something, but I beat her to it. The breaking news about the scumbag Mr.Cruz had me amped already. “You liar!” I shouted. “You diabolical liar !”

“Takes one to know one,” my sister said airily.

Buckle up, folks.

Isa and Everett wisely backed away from us, toward a flower-lined trail that may or may not have led to Neverland or some other colorful Disney singsong world.

Grace smugly cocked her head. “You aren’t going to congratulate me?”

“ Congratulate you?” I asked, incredulous. “Are you kidding? Do you have any idea what’s been happening at home? At school? What you’ve done?”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “I haven’t done anything except make one unscrupulous decision and tell several inconsequential lies to have an extraordinary day with my two best friends.” She smiled affectionately at Isa and Everett.

Everett pretended to cough. “Boyfriend. Best friend and boyfriend. ”

My girlfriend shoved him.

Grace failed at hiding a grin. “Students are sick every day, James,” she said. “ You of all people know that.” She shrugged. “The three of us missed class, so what? I bet you’re the only one who noticed.”

I laughed. I laughed so hard that I had to bend over, put my hands on my knees. “The only one?” I choked out. “The only one who noticed?” I got myself together, then looked at my sister again. Where to begin? The food poisoning hospital visit? The notes left on her locker? Oh, the possibilities. “Hashtag SavingGrace” was what I decided to say, wrapping it all in a pretty little bow. “Has that popped up on your social media today? By any chance?”

I watched my sister dig her phone out of her purse. “We unplugged for the day,” she explained. “I’ve just been ignoring everything.” Her eyes widened once she’d scanned her feed. “Shit. It’s like they’re holding a vigil.”

“Exactly,” I said, then cleared my throat. “You’re the president, and basically never sick. How could you think I’d be the only one who’d notice you were absent?”

Grace shifted from one foot to the other. “Why did you track us down, anyway?” she asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I answered. “I would’ve tagged along in a second, but you didn’t even give me the chance. I know it would’ve made things more difficult, with me being on a no-fly list and all.” I glanced at Isa, who nodded encouragingly. “I just would’ve appreciated an invitation.”

I expected my sister to say she was sorry, I did.

But it turned out I was profoundly mistaken.

“Invite you?” Grace exclaimed. “Why would I invite you, James? You never want to hang out with me! Aside from making ice cream sundaes together and family stuff, that’s it. I mean, we watch Netflix separately, even if it’s the same show.”

“Because you talk too much during episodes!” I blurted. “We don’t always need your commentary!”

Grace and Peaky Blinders ? Or Wednesday ? Or Squid Game ?

Just, no.

My sister swallowed hard, like something was stuck in her throat. “We also never talk about anything real anymore,” she said. “Like, we’ve never talked about college. Are you excited for it? Are you nervous? Are you going to find a roommate on Facebook or will you go random?” Tears trickled down her face. “And jeez, do you even care that we’re moving?”

Off to the side, Isa gasped. “Wait, what? You’re moving ?”

“Yeah.” Grace nodded and wiped her eyes. “We’re moving.”

Isa started freaking out. From Everett’s complete lack of reaction, I deduced that he’d already known or suspected—the guy was low-key Sherlock Holmes—but it was clear Isa hadn’t. “I just thought your mom was suddenly inspired by my house,” she said, eyes wavering between Grace and me.

My chest tightened. Isa and I’d agreed not to keep secrets from each other, but this…I hadn’t breathed a word. Whenever Isa commented on a new paint color or given me a bemused but also confused look when Mom said we weren’t allowed to wear shoes in the house anymore, I’d just shrugged.

Now I reached for her, pulling her in tight, and breathed in her floral-scented shampoo. “I didn’t tell you because I have no idea where we’re going,” I said. “Our parents haven’t toldus.”

“All they’ve done is consult a Realtor and start repainting the house,” Grace chimed in, a bitter edge to her voice. “Apparently it needs to be all neutrals.”

“Then my house is a Realtor’s dream,” Isa muttered before pulling away. “You guys can’t move! How can your parents even want to move? Your house is our home!”

Our home. I wouldn’t deny that. My family had lived in our house for almost two decades, and after meeting in kindergarten, Isa and Everett had basically moved in themselves. How many hours had we clocked messing around in the basement? How many birthday parties had been held in the backyard? How many dinners at our kitchen table? How many legendary game nights?

I turned to Grace, who held tight to one of Everett’s hands. “There’s no way in hell I want to move,” I told her. “I want to Sharpie the foyer walls just as much as you do.”

Mischief flickered across her face. “How do you know that?” she asked.

“Because I know you. ” I smirked and let a beat pass before sighing. “But what pisses me off most is being left out of the conversation. We have no fucking clue about our parents’ vision for the future.” I rubbed my forehead. “I wish they’d talk to us.”

My sister nodded. “You’re right; we deserve to know their plans. We might be legal adults, but we’re still their kids. We’re allowed on their insurance plan until we’re twenty-six.”

I chuckled, and so did she. “How about we get the details at dinner tonight?” I suggested. “I talked to Dad earlier…” I laughed again, seeing Grace’s eyes widen with alarm. She could go ahead and sweat for a bit; it was fine by me. “And he said we’re having chicken Parm tonight.” I winked. “Will you be well enough to eat, my ailing twin?”

She winked back. “Oh, dear twin, I’m sure I can manage a few bites.”

“Okay, but you’ll defend the house, right?” Isa said. “You’re not just going to let them put up a For Sale sign?”

Ah, a For Sale sign. I pictured the two hidden in the Subaru’s trunk and also wondered if the neighborhood had been shocked at the sign planted on the álvarez lawn yet. Rose, you didn’t tell me you and Eric wanted to move! I could imagine old Mrs.Claffey saying. Will Marco still be available to mow my lawn?

Grace and I shared a conspiring grin. Things might’ve been bumpy these past few years, but maybe my sister and I could work our way back to being teammates. Operation Not for Sale would be a strong start.

“Don’t worry, Isa,” I heard Everett say as my stomach started to spin. “I have a feeling that if a For Sale sign goes up, a chain saw is going to mysteriously take it down….”

That, I thought, is an excellent idea.

Grace and I would keep it in our back pocket.