“Hey,” Sofia said once her sister was gone. “What’s up?”
“The usual,” I told her. “I couldn’t deal with my family for the rest of the day, so I got in my car and ended up here. Sorry for intruding. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Indigo, what a lovely surprise.” Glancing over Sofia’s shoulder, I was met with the warm smile of Mrs. Hernandez. She must have caught the tail end of our conversation, because she put a hand on her hip. “I hope I didn’t hear you apologizing for stopping by. You know you’re always welcome here.”
I glanced over at the patio, where rows of string lights gleamed down from the beams of the pergola. Two long tables, which were covered in steaming dishes, had been pushed together at the edge of the stone pavers to create a buffet line. There were more people than chairs, so everyone stood around with paper plates in hand as they socialized. It was the opposite of my family’s formal sit-down meal but somehow more intimate and close-knit.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“The more the merrier,” she said, wrapping an arm around me and guiding me toward the party. “We’re just started eating. Why don’t you grab a plate and join us?”
* * *
“You can’t lie here all night.”
I cracked open my eyes. Sofia stood above me, arms crossed as she frowned down at me. “Says who?” I asked.
“Well, I guess you can if you want, but the sprinklers turn on at midnight, so you’ll be in for a rude awake—ooh, Ilovethis song!” Sofia’s head whipped toward the patio, which, at some point during dinner, had turned into a dance floor. “Let’s go dance.”
“Can’t,” I said, patting my stomach. “I’m digesting.”
Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “Please? Moving around will help.”
“If I move an inch from this spot, I’m going to explode.”
The Hernandezes’ Thanksgiving spread had included a few traditional staples, but there was also birria, three different types of tamales, papas con rajas, and countless other dishes I didn’t know the names of. But the best part was the homemade desserts—tres leches and a pumpkin flan drizzled with caramel—which were hands down better than any grocery-store pie.
Skipping the turkey and mashed potatoes, I’d packed my plate with all the foods I’d never tried before. Even though I was picky when it came to food, I’d eaten dinner at Sofia’s house enough times to know that Mrs. Hernandez could make rocks taste like magic.
Now, after indulging in meal number two, my too-full stomach was paying the price. All I wanted to do was nap, so I’d stretched out on the rope hammock secured between two trees, which was the perfect spot to watch the party from.
“You’re such a poop,” she said with a huff. “Make some room.”
The ropes of the hammock creaked as she climbed in beside me, and the motion sent us rocking.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “Do you think your family will judge me if I undo the top button of my jeans?”
Sofia’s shoulder shook against mine with laughter. “My mom would take that as a compliment. Also, what kind of noob wears jeans at Thanksgiving? It’s all about the yoga pants.” She patted her own stomach.
“Mistakes were definitely made,” I agreed.
There was a loud crash on the patio, and I lifted my head to see what had happened. By the looks of it, Emma had tripped Javier, and he’d tumbled straight into one of the chaise lounges. Jake and Ronnie, who were sitting around the nearby firepit, burst out laughing. I grinned and lay back down.
“I swear those two can’t go five minutes without torturing each other,” she said, shaking her head. “So…did you turn in your Juilliard application yet?”
Even though I was practically done, anxiety spiked through me at her question. “No, but the benefit of being grounded for three weeks is that I had plenty of practice time. I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” I told her. “The plan is to record my audition videos this weekend.”
One of Sofia’s eyebrows popped up. “Cutting it a bit close, don’t you think?”
“Hey, you’re the one who sidetracked me with the whole makeup portfolio.”
“Oh, that reminds me! You never told me how that went.”
“I submitted it and am waiting to hear back, but even if I’m accepted, I’m not going. Juilliard is still the plan.”
Sofia rolled her eyes. “You don’t say?”
My phone vibrated before I could respond. I’d been waiting for a seething call from my dad for the past hour. No doubt Violet had filled him in on our fight, and now there’d be another grounding in my future. But when I took out my cell and looked at the caller ID, it was Xander, not my dad.
