It occurred to her that while it was indeed a juvenile thing to text with abandon and without checking to make sure you had the right phone number, she wasn’t the only guilty party. Dash must’ve known that she hadn’t known she was texting him. He had played her. Again.
But this time, she was far from angry. He liked her. He’d not only sent her a flotilla of roses to say so, he’d gotten her text messages and asked, pretty blatantly, if she were in the forgiving mood. And wouldn’t you know it? She was.
She picked up the land line and dialed his number.
“Hey, querida,” he said softly.
“Hay is for horses,” Jamie answered.
“Right,” he said, laughing.
“So, are you, like, the Batman of text messages?” she asked. “Sending messages without ever revealing your identity?”
“Am I in trouble again?” he asked.
Jamie waited a moment before answering to let him sweat just a little. “No, you’re not. Thank you for the flowers.”
“Do you like roses?” Dash asked eagerly. “I know they are a little bit of a cliché, but I love the smell of real garden roses.”
Jamie smiled and took a deep breath. “Now I do, too.”
“Go out with me again,” Dash asked. “Give me the chance to show that I can be a perfect gentleman.”
“Well, your sister has convinced us all to go to the C. G.–Everglades football game tomorrow,” Jamie said.
“Me, too,” Dash answered. “Should we go together?”
Jamie had held on to one of the cards that had come with the roses. Now she began to doodle on the back of it. “Not so fast, cowboy. Maybe I’ll see you there. And maybe there’ll be a seat next to me, and maybe if you sit down, I won’t get up and move to another bleacher seat. But I’m not making any promises.”
“No promises necessary. I’ll be there,” Dash said. “And Jamie, I’m really sorry.”
“Good night, Dash,” Jamie said, hanging up.
She put the phone back on its base in the hallway. Her cell phone immediately started to beep. The message read: Dulces sueños.
She kissed the phone as if she were thirteen again. Sweet dreams to you, too, Dash, she thought.
ON WEDNESDAY, right on schedule, Binky arrived at Carmen’s family home for her fitting. Carmen’s family lived on the Canals, a cool, artsy, residential section of one of Miami’s oldest neighborhoods.
When Carmen opened the front door, Binky gave her new friend an air kiss on both cheeks and then moaned dramatically.
“You should have warned me that I was going to the hinterlands,” she said.
As the two girls stood together in the foyer, Carmen quickly picked up on the fact that Binky wasn’t her usual chipper self. Looking around, she tried to figure out why.
Carmen lived in the two-story Craftsman house with her older sister, Una; her brother, Tino; and her three younger stepsisters. Christian, her British stepfather, taught history at Florida International University, and Sophia, her mother, was the head of the math department at C. G. High. Javier Ruben, her Jewish Argentinean father, produced telenovelas, and Natalia, her stepmother, starred in them. Binky might have been a teenage diva, but with her crazy family, Carmen was used to the dramatic.
“What’s the problem, Binky?” Carmen asked now, leading the other girl into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Binky sighed, as though the question were deeply perplexing. “Voss. Sparkling. With a twist of lime.”
Carmen opened the fridge and shook her head. “No can do, B. How about Pellegrino sparkling? With a twist of lemon?”
“Acceptable,” Binky said, taking a seat at the kitchen counter. “What is not acceptable,” she went on, answering Carmen’s earlier question, “is the two-mile hike I had to do just to get to your house. You could have told me they don’t allow cars on your teeny-tiny street.”
Ah, so this was what was bothering the princess. “That’s the beauty of living on the Canals!” Carmen said, handing Binky her water. “When I was a kid, we were always allowed to ride our bikes all along the towpath, because there was no danger of cars.”
“But I had to slog over here from the lot. It took hours, and I’m wearing heels,” Binky sighed, feigning exhaustion. She lifted one foot and rotated it. By now, Carmen was used to the fact that Binky, while sweet, was the living definition of “OTT.”
“It takes about five minutes, ten at a turtle’s pace,” said Carmen. She looked down at the high heels on Binky’s feet. They had to be at least three and a half inches tall. “Next time, do what we do. Wear flip-flops for the walk, and change when you get here.”
“Ha!” Binky said. “Like there’ll be a next time. If we need to do additional fittings, we’ll do them in the civilized part of town: my house.”
Just then, the front door slammed, and Tino ambled in. He was dressed in a sweaty soccer uniform, and judging by the amount of dirt on his cleats and his previously white socks, he’d just come from practice. His curly dark hair was sopping wet and fell in Botticelli curls across his forehead.
“What’s up?” Tino asked as he dribbled his soccer ball into the kitchen. His eyes on the ball, he didn’t notice the visitor.
“Um, your funk, that’s what’s up,” Carmen said, wrinkling her nose.
Tino smiled. “Good honest sweat. I earned it. I’m proud of it. Give me a hug, sis.” He ran over to Carmen and made as if to pull her into a big bear hug. She squealed and jumped away.
“Come on, Binky. Let’s find a less Hazmat-worthy zone of the house,” Carmen said.
Binky, however, was not going anywhere. She appeared glued to her chair.
“Hi, I’m Bianca,” she said, reaching out to shake Tino’s hand.
Carmen looked surprised. She’d never heard Binky use her given name before.
Tino smiled. “Pleased to meet you,” he said pleasantly. “I would shake your hand, but as my sister has made abundantly clear, I’m filthy.”
Binky kept her hand outstretched. “That’s okay. I’m in the sweat business, too.”
Tino narrowed his eyes as he took a swig from the bottle of Gatorade he had just opened. “You play soccer, too?”
Binky giggled flirtatiously. “Not exactly. I’m a cheerleader.”
“Oh, gotcha. That’s cool,” Tino said, nodding. “Cheerleading is definitely a sport.”
Carmen had been watching the entire exchange with quiet interest. Wait till she told the others about the heavy-duty flirting happening in her own kitchen! But that would have to come later. The clock was ticking. “Hey, Binky, we should really get going with this fitting. You have a game to get to, and I’ve got a ton of work to do on your dress. I want it to be perfect.”
Binky finally rose, reluctantly, from her chair. “Yeah, um, can’t wait to see it. Nice meeting you, Tino.”
“You, too, Bianca,” Tino said.
“Come with me to my atelier,” Carmen said. Responding to Binky’s confused look, she added, “Also known as the room I share with my sister.”
Binky followed her up the stairs. “Your house is so tiny and cute,” she said, having apparently recovered from her initial displeasure with the location. Carmen had to wonder if this had anything to do with a certain soccer-playing brother. “After I graduate from college, I could totally see living in a funky little house like this one,” Binky continued. “It’s one of those down-to-earth experiences that everyone should have.”
Carmen smiled patiently. This rich-girl’s-view-of-the-world monologue was not unexpected, coming from Binky. They’d all heard similar ones before over the past few days. The best thing to do was just go with the flow. Binky really didn’t mean any harm.
“These are nice,” Binky said as they moved through the hall. She was gazing at the black-and-white family photos lining the walls. “Who took them?”
“My stepfather. He’s a complete photography nut.”
“That’s funny,” Binky said. “My dad is t
he complete opposite. I don’t know if it’s because my mom passed away, but he never wants old photos around; he says it’s a waste of time to live in the past and that the future belongs to those who live in the present.”
“He sounds like he’s in a lot of pain,” Carmen observed.
“Well, he is married to my stepmother,” Binky said, shrugging dismissively.
“I’ve got a stepmother, too,” Carmen said. “Mine’s a telenovela star. Nice enough, but a diva all the way.”
“My stepmother, Bev, is more like Glenn Close in 101 Dalmatians,” Binky said. “She’s stylish, cold—and I’m pretty sure that, if she could, she’d be mean to puppies. Luckily I’m allergic, so we can’t have any to test the theory.”
Carmen laughed. “I’ll make sure to stay out of her way.”
Binky stopped in front of one of the pictures. It was a large, silver-framed photograph of Carmen’s mother in a graduation cap and gown.
“I would love to have some photographs of my mother around the house,” Binky said softly, her finger tracing the frame.
“You should ask your dad,” Carmen said. “Tell him how much it means to you.”
“You think I haven’t?” Binky asked. “Every time I bring it up, he hands me a wad of cash and tells me to buy myself something nice.”
“So, bring it up again,” Carmen suggested.
Binky shook her head. “After a while you just get tired of hearing the word no.” Turning away from the photo, she cocked her head. “So, are we going to do this? My dress won’t make itself.” All traces of the sadness that had just moments ago enveloped her were gone.
Carmen knew better than to push. People grieved and dealt with things in their own ways. She continued down the hall and turned in to the tiny room she shared with her older sister. Binky followed and sat down in the desk chair.
“After I got your measurements, I started working on your dress right away. I stayed up all night sewing,” Carmen said, walking over to her closet. “I think this is one of my best creations yet. Try it on.” She pulled out a mass of tangerine silk and handed it to Binky. “Be careful; there are lots and lots of pins.” Moments later, Binky stood in front of the full-length mirror wearing the dress. Her eyes were gleaming. “I know it’s not done,” she whispered, “but I’ll wear it just like this. Pins and all.”
While Alicia and Jamie were naturally stylish and always looked well put together, Carmen had a special gift. She knew exactly what the best look was for all of their quince clients. Even if it was a color or a cut they’d never worn before, they looked at themselves wearing Carmen’s creations and saw their prettiest selves. Binky was a case in point.
Carmen laughed at the other girl’s rapt expression. “I’m glad you like it, but the whole right side still needs to be sewn, chica.”
Binky shook her head. “You can’t make me take it off. I love it too much!”
Carmen put her hand on her hip. “Don’t make me have to count to ten, like I do with my little sisters.”
Binky sighed. “Fine, fine. But at least snap a picture with your phone, so I can stare at it in my free time.”
This was something Carmen could agree to. She grabbed her phone and took the picture. “Okay, chica, take it off. And maybe don’t share the photo. We want this to be a surprise.”
Binky plopped onto the bed—it was Una’s bed, as the older sibling had claimed bottom bunk years before. “Fine with me. I don’t want all the other girls to be rocking couture, anyway.”
Carmen couldn’t help smiling at the word couture. It was her dream to have her own line of clothing one day. Even though creating a single dress for Bianca Mortimer hardly constituted a fashion launch, it made her feel good that her original designs were prized by clients who obviously knew quality when they saw it.
“I’ve done some scouting,” Carmen said, “and I think these maxidresses would be perfect for your damas. The navy with orange accents will totally complement your dress and not take away from it.”
Carmen pulled up pictures of the dresses she had researched on her phone and showed Binky.
“Perfect, I love them,” Binky said.
“I’m glad. So, am I ever going to get to meet the girls in your court?” Carmen asked. “Remind me who they are again.”
“You’ll meet them soon. Let’s see, there are a few girls from my cheerleading squad; my best friend from tennis camp; and my cousin, Lily Mortimer. Though how we’re going to tear her away from her annual Thanksgiving ski trip to Vail is beyond me.” Binky tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder.
“I’m sure she’ll show up,” Carmen said encouragingly.
“Yeah, well, Lily is a fanatical snow bunny. Its hard for anything or anybody to drag her away from the slopes,” Binky said. “So we’ll see.”
Carmen changed the subject to that of the chambelanes and asked Binky who the guys in her court were going to be. She wanted a good visual while figuring out what they would wear.
“My brother, Dash, of course,” Binky said, beginning to list them. “His friend, Troy, whom you’ve met.”
“He’s the one who thinks he’s so charming but has no game, right?” Carmen said.
Binky nodded. “He’s a little bit of a player—wannabe player, I should say—but we’ve known Troy since we were little kids. Deep down, he’s a good guy.”
“Okay, I’m going to have to take your word for that,” Carmen teased. “But what about your date? Your chambelán? A lot of girls just take their cousin if they think their parents aren’t going to approve of the guy they really like.”
Binky let out one of her trademark overdramatic sighs. “That’s just the problem. There isn’t a guy that I like. Don’t laugh, but I was dating this archduke sort of guy from Austria. How could I even begin to envision spending my life, or even attending senior prom, with a guy who got me a bratwurst cookbook for my birthday? But anyway, his family eventually moved back to Austria, and we were never that serious in any case.”
Carmen let out a loud laugh. “You’re kidding about the cookbook, right?”
Binky shook her head. “I wish.” She paused, as though she had just had an idea. “What about your brother?”
“Tino?”
“He’s cute,” Binky said, clasping her hands together in apparent growing excitement over her idea. “Is he seeing someone?”
“Outside of his soccer ball?” Carmen said. “I don’t think so.”
Binky looked suddenly shy, an expression Carmen rarely if ever saw on her face. “Do you think he would be my chambelán? Will you ask him?” Binky asked.
This was a pretty big favor. On one hand, Carmen was pretty confident that he would say yes. Binky was cute, and Tino was always up for a party. On the other hand, if things didn’t go well—and that was always a possibility—Carmen would probably never hear the end of it.
Binky cleared her throat, waiting for an answer.
“Sure,” Carmen said finally, giving in. She hoped she hadn’t just made a big mistake.
After Binky left to get ready for the game, Carmen went to find her brother.
She knocked on the door of his room, where she found him attempting to pull off an octopuslike juggling act of playing Madden, drinking a milk shake, and kicking his soccer ball from foot to foot.
There was no sense in beating around the bush. Tino was a get-to-the-point kind of guy. So she asked him straight out if he would be Binky’s chambelán. The grin that spread across his face was the answer she needed. But of course, he had to say something.
“So, she’s crushing on me, huh?” Tino asked. He sounded pleased by the idea. The only times Carmen ever usually heard him sound like that was when he was talking about soccer. “Who could blame her? I’ve got mad skills.”
He picked up the soccer ball and began bouncing it from ankle to ankle and then knee to knee.
“Do you think she’d like me to do this? Or this? Or how about this?”
Carmen tsk-tsked. “I thi
nk she’d like you to put on a tux and be a good chambelán.”
Tino stopped bouncing the ball. “That I can do.”
“Thanks! I’ll tell her,” Carmen said.
As she turned to leave, Tino called out, “Hey, sis!”
Carmen looked back at him. “Yeah?”
“Um, thanks for the intro,” Tino said bashfully.
Back in her room, she felt the urge to share this new development. She picked up the phone to call Jamie. Then she changed her mind and hung up. Then she picked the phone back up and redialed.
“Hey, Jamie,” she said when her friend answered. “Want to hear something interesting? Binky asked me to ask Tino to be to her chambelán.”
“What?” Jamie yelped. “Miss Head Cheerleader doesn’t have a boyfriend?”
“Well, she did, but the archduke moved back to Austria with his family.”
“Of course he did,” Jamie said.
“Anyway, I asked Tino, and even though I thought for sure he would say no, he said yes!”
“That’s weird.”
“Guys are weird,” Carmen said. Then, realizing she could use this to try to get some thoughts out of Jamie on Dash, she added, “And kinda stupid. But not all of them. I honestly believe that Dash is less weird and less stupid than most. He likes you, you like him. Give him another chance, J.”
For a moment, there was just silence, and Carmen wondered if she’d pushed too hard. But then Jamie said, “I can do that,” and filled her friend in on the flowers and on the texts she’d accidentally sent to Dash.
“My mom always says there are no accidents,” Carmen said when Jamie had finished. “Everything happens for a reason.”
“And the reason for this is…?” Jamie asked.
“He’s probably the only guy in Miami cool enough to go out with you, Jamie-James,” Carmen teased.
LATER THAT afternoon, the Coral Gables football team played Everglades Academy, Binky and Dash’s school. The rivalry between the schools was nothing short of intense.
Of course, with such strong rivalry came strong rules, which weren’t supposed to be broken—such as fraternizing with the other side. But Binky didn’t care. Dressed in her green and white cheerleader uniform, she went running over to Alicia and her crew as soon as they arrived, shouting, “Amigas! Wassup?”
She's Got Game Page 7
