“If this isn’t right, we cannot be friends,” she says.
She’s joking, Camila knows that, but her chest stilltightens a little. It’s ridiculous how much she wants to match her answer, to be perfectly in sync with Valeria.
Valeria flips the cover, and Camila can feel the breath she’s holding burning in her lungs. Valeria’s eyes light up, and a slow smile spreads across her face. “I knew I liked you,” she says, laughing softly as she turns the dial toward the group—both of them had gone all the way to “Perfect pet.”
The relief is a little ridiculous.
“You’re both wild for that one.” Alejandra laughs.
For the rest of the game, Camila keeps chasing it, choosing answers to line up with Valeria’s.
By the time the game ends, Camila knows everyone a little better. Clara exaggerates every guess to stir chaos. Alejandra is meticulous, weighing every angle. Ella observes quietly, delivering sharp, perfectly timed comments. Lily is thoughtful, and Valeria ... Valeria gives small, perfect clues that somehow make everyone laugh, nod, or groan in agreement.
“Okay, I’m about ready for dinner,” Alejandra says as she stands. Everyone nods in agreement.
“Do you need help with anything?” Camila asks.
Alejandra shakes her head. “You stay here with Val. We’ve got it.” Alejandra shoos everyone inside to help finish dinner. Clara and Ella groan but go anyway, leaving Camila and Valeria alone on the patio.
Camila shifts in her chair, glancing around the backyard. “You think they’ll mind if I smoke out here?”
Valeria looks at her, surprised. “You smoke?”
“Unfortunately,” Camila says, already half-wincing. She knows some people hate the smell. “It helps with nerves.”
Valeria considers this for a second, then stands andcrosses the patio, returning with an ashtray and setting it on the table between them.
“They smoke?” Camila asks.
“Weed, mostly, but not often,” Valeria says with a shrug. “As long as you don’t smoke inside, they won’t care.”
Camila nods, pulling a cigarette from the pack and rolling it between her fingers before lighting it. She second-guesses herself, then holds the pack out. “Want one?”
Valeria smiles and shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’m good, but I don’t mind.”
Camila nods, lights the cigarette, and exhales toward the far edge of the yard. The smoke curls and disappears into the dark. Her nerves don’t disappear, but they loosen, unspooling enough for her shoulders to drop.
Valeria watches the smoke drift away. “So,” she says, “anything I can do to help with your nerves?” Before Camila can answer, Valeria reaches over, gently plucks the cigarette from her fingers, and takes a slow pull. Camila nearly laughs at the irony that part of what’s making her nervous is sitting right there, offering to help.
She shakes her head. “Just some family things.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Camila considers her. Making note of how much she wants to share—something extremely rare for her—but now isn’t the right time. The last thing she wants on her first hangout with Valeria is to dump out all her family drama.
“Maybe another day.”
Valeria nods and hands Camila back her cigarette.
They sit in quiet comfort for a few minutes, passing the cigarette back and forth. Eventually, Valeria breaks the silence. “How’s your move been? I haven’t asked.”
“Good. My house is finally not full of unopened boxes, and work has been great.”
“What do you do for work?”
“I’m an art conservationist.”
Valeria’s face brightens. “Oh, no way, that’s super cool. Do you know this account called—” Valeria closes her eyes, trying to think of the account name. “Milaaarestoresart! She posts all these amazing before-and-after pieces of art restoration. I am obsessed.”
