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). “Weshould 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 Gardensby 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 filledme 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’scheatingon Mamá.” A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it and blinked away the others. “With a millennial. She’s amillennial.”
“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 toyou.”
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 diabolicalliar!”
“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?”
“Congratulateyou?” 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 andboyfriend.”
My girlfriend shoved him.
Grace failed at hiding a grin. “Students are sick every day, James,” she said. “Youof all people know that.” She shrugged. “The three of us missed class, so what? I bet you’re the only one who noticed.”
