Valeria gave her a thumbs-up, then did a vertical slide up a wall before getting off the rails.
“Wow!” Alicia said when Valeria joined them. “You weren’t kidding when you said that skateboarding was your calling.”
“Hey, Lady V., you were strictly diamonds out there today,” said the same cute guy with the aforementioned blue-violet eyes as he walked over.
Valeria looked away, using her long hair to shield her face, and did a very effective impersonation of Cousin Itt from The Addams Family. “Hey, Omarion,” she said softly. “Uh, this is Alicia, Jamie, and Carmen. They’re from Miami.”
Omarion shook hands with each of them. “Much respect, ladies. Any friend of V.’s is a friend of mine. Hope y’all enjoy Austin. It’s special. Just like this lady here.”
He walked away, and Carmen said, “Please tell me that you’re dating that guy.”
Valeria let out a very unladylike guffaw. “Omarion? Uh, no.”
“Do you have something against hotties?” Jamie asked, staring at the guys as they flew around on their boards.
Alicia smacked Jamie’s arm playfully. “Hello, you’ve got a boyfriend.”
Jamie shrugged. “Yeah, but he’s a little square. These guys have street style. They’ve got swagger.”
“Oh, boy,” Alicia said. “Look at what you’ve done, Valeria. She’s back on the swagger thing again. It took her a long time to figure out that she should give the nice preppy boy a chance.”
“Sorry,” Valeria said, shrugging.
“No worries. Just messing with you,” Alicia said. “But speaking of nice boys, who is your chambelán?”
Valeria looked less than enthused. “My cousin Bruno has agreed to be my nonthreatening date.”
“But what about Omarion?” Jamie asked, staring as the boy ollied a twelve set. “He’s so cute. Do you not like him?”
Valeria’s hair covered her face like a curtain as she mumbled something.
“She likes him,” Jamie said. “He’s got to be your chambelán.”
Alicia looked at her watch, “V., or Lady V., as Señor Hotness likes to call you, we don’t have time for all this. One, if we don’t leave this skate park in eight minutes, we’ll be late for your very exclusive hair appointment. Two, your party is a week from Saturday. Ask him out.”
“Or we will,” Jamie said, glancing dreamily back at the skate park.
“Behave, Jamie!” Carmen warned.
“I meant, we’d ask him out on your behalf!”
“I’ve never done something like this before. You need to give me time to psych myself up,” sighed Valeria. “I promise I’ll call him later, when we get back to the ranch.”
“Good girl!” Carmen cheered. “Now, let’s go and make you presentable.”
At exactly one minute to eleven, Valeria, Alicia, Carmen, and Jamie found themselves outside of the salon, Glitterati.
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” Valeria said, putting a strand of her hair into her mouth and chewing nervously.
Carmen grimaced. “Just the fact that you are eating your hair right now means that you are in a pitiful state.”
“And remember, you said no complaints if we went to the park,” Alicia reminded their client.
The salon, when they entered, was not what they expected. The customers were well-dressed Texan women in their forties and fifties—basically women who reminded them of their moms. But the stylists were another breed altogether. There were six of them in total, each wearing five-inch heels, neon catsuits, and hair that was teased to a point way past Crazy Anchor Lady.
The receptionist, whose name tag read charmaine, was the most conservatively dressed, in a 1950s-style blue satin dress and a bun that was so high and full it seemed that bees might swarm out of it at any moment.
“Well, hello, young and beautiful,” she said. “Which one of you fillies is Valeria?”
The quince of the moment stepped forward nervously, shoulders slumped, eyes firmly fixed on the ground. “That would be me.”
Charmaine shook her head. “Oh, do not step to me like you’re a soldier facing a firing squad,” she said. “You’re on the front lines of fabulous! I want you to strut!”
“I’m sorry,” Valeria responded meekly. “I’ll do better next time.”
The receptionist scowled. “Not next time. This time. Go back to the front door, and then come up to me like you’re a supermodel walking the runway.”
Jamie, Alicia, and Carmen watched in stunned silence. No way was Valeria going to do it.
But they were in for a surprise.
Maybe it was because they’d spent the morning at the skate park and Valeria was ’board-happy. Maybe it was the thought that that hottie Omarion, maybe, just maybe, would agree to be her chambelán. Or maybe it was just the fact that Amigas Inc. had been boosting her confidence. Whatever it was, it seemed as if suddenly, shy Valeria had been replaced by a bolder version of herself. “Okay, why not?”
Valeria looked over at the other girls. “I think I need different shoes. May I borrow yours, Alicia? I think we’re the same size.”
Alicia nodded happily and sat down to take them off.
Valeria took off her combat boots and slipped on Alicia’s platform shoes. Then she walked back out the door. A moment later it opened again, and she sashayed to the reception desk. Valeria tossed her hair and posed at the front desk with her hand defiantly posed on her jutting hip.
“OMG,” Alicia said. “Who the heck was that?”
Jamie giggled. “I think it’s Lady V., from the skate park.”
Valeria blushed. “I watch a lot of modeling shows. It’s my guilty pleasure.”
Before they could grill her about what else she was hiding, a tall woman with big blond hair approached, saying, “Charmaine, are you teaching charm school again?”
Charmaine smiled. “Maybelline, meet your new client, Valeria. Take good care of her, because that girl is hiding a reservoir of fierce.”
The girls followed Valeria and Maybelline to a chair in the back of the salon. Carmen handed Maybelline a picture of Emily the Strange. “This is our inspirational picture,” she explained.
Maybelline took the photo. Carmen noticed that on each perfectly manicured fingernail there was a picture of an oil well.
“Oh, honey, I am my own inspiration,” Maybelline said. “But I will take your wishes into account.”
“Should we be worried?” Carmen whispered to Jamie.
“Nope,” she said. “I think our Valeria is in excellent hands.”
And she wasn’t wrong.
An hour later, Maybelline waved a hair dryer around Valeria’s head as if it were a magic wand. Emily the Strange might have been the starting point for the quince’s makeover, but there was nothing cartoonish about Valeria’s final look. She had bangs, but they were fringed so that they seemed to have a little bit of rock-and-roll edge. The rest of her hair was shoulder-length, and it curled under ever so slightly, in a natural wave.
Maybelline had given Valeria a few midnight blue highlights that were amazingly subtle in her glossy jet black hair. As a finishing touch, she had trimmed and brushed Valeria’s dark brows, which were now like gallery frames for her eyes.
The hairdresser spun the chair around so Valeria could see the back of her haircut. “I believe the term is voilà,” she said.
“That’s not me.” Valeria sounded shocked. “That couldn’t be me.”
Maybelline gave her client a kiss on the cheek. “But is it ever, diva. Now, get out there and shine!”
As they left the salon, the three Miami girls jockeyed for credit for Valeria’s new look. Walking down the street, even though she was still wearing her standard uniform—message T, camo pants, and skate sneaks—Valeria didn’t look out of place next to the members of Amigas Inc. On the contrary, with her new haircut, it was as if she’d staked her own claim to the girls’ stylish glamocracy.
“I do believe that I was the one who used the word haircut f
irst,” Alicia pointed out. “Maybe even at the airport when we first arrived.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Carmen said. “I was thinking about different hairstyles from the first night we got here.”
Jamie shook her head. “I’m the one who saw the Emily iPod and said, ‘Bam, that’s the look.’”
Valeria laughed good-naturedly. “Okay, break it up. I want to thank all of you for giving me this push out of my comfort zone. In fact, to thank you, I want to take you guys to my favorite taquería for lunch.”
Alicia suddenly stopped short.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like tacos?” Valeria asked.
“No, that’s not it.” Alicia shook her head. Her eyes gleamed with excitement. This was a look that the other members of Amigas Inc. knew well. It was an inspired look. “I know what the theme for your quince should be. Your haircut gave me the idea. Valeria at Twilight! We have the church ceremony during the day. Then we have the party late that evening, say at ten P.M. And we serve a few hot appetizers, but the main course is a huge chocolate buffet. You said you love chocolate, right?” Valeria nodded and Alicia plowed on. “We really play with that intimate, late-night feeling. It’s like you’ve invited your friends to your house, not for a big boring sit-down dinner, but for the main event—dancing, some sweets, and a chance to be with you as you blow your candles out at midnight. The clock strikes twelve, and it’s your actual birthday. You’re fifteen.”
For a moment, no one said anything.
Finally, Valeria broke the silence. “I love it!” she cried.
“It is pretty fantastic,” Carmen admitted.
Jamie did an elaborate bow before Alicia. “Your quince skills are unprecedented, madame.”
Alicia flushed. Planning quinces. Traveling to a new city with your guy and your best friends. Dedicating yourself to reimagining and reinvigorating a Latina tradition. It didn’t get any better.
Until…it got worse. Much worse.
Crossing the street, they walked by a café with a big picture window. “Hey, isn’t that Gaz and Saniyah?” Jamie asked loudly.
Alicia stopped in her tracks and looked in at what was, indeed, her boyfriend through the window. And with him was Saniyah. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was clear they were laughing and having a good time. Anyone who saw them would have thought they were a couple.
“Isn’t the conference on the other side of town?” Carmen asked. She looked mad, ready to defend her best friend.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Jamie warned.
“Yeah,” Valeria added. “Downtown Austin is actually really compact. They probably just came this way for lunch.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Alicia said, pushing open the door of the café.
As the girls walked in, Alicia tried to calm her nerves. Although she tried not to go there, and even though Gaz had reassured her, seeing the two together made it so easy to picture Saniyah and Gaz as a couple. They just looked like they…belonged together.
Gaz stood up as she approached, looking unbothered. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, fancy running into you here.”
The girls exchanged hellos with Saniyah. “Your hair looks amazing,” Saniyah said to Valeria. “Did you just get it cut?”
“Yeah, she did,” said Alicia, answering for Valeria. “I thought you were at the conference. What brings you to this part of town?”
“Saniyah took me to the most incredible guitar shop,” Gaz explained. “All the old-school Texas blues players used to hang out there. Guys like John Lee Hooker. It was pretty inspirational.”
“In fact, we were just writing our own blues songs,” Saniyah chimed in.
Gaz laughed. “Yeah, it’s hilarious how easy it is. What they told us to do at today’s panel was to begin the process of writing blues songs by just asking someone to give us a word. You got a word for me, Lici?”
Alicia bit her tongue. The first word that had come to mind wasn’t pretty. Plus, she couldn’t help thinking that seeing Saniyah and Gaz had made her sad, and yet they were busting up laughing over the blues. “Sorry, can’t think of any,” Alicia said, shrugging.
Gaz looked at Jamie, oblivious of his girlfriend’s unhappiness. “Okay, you give me a word.”
“I’m hungry,” Jamie said. “So, how about pancakes?”
Gaz nodded and reached for his guitar and began playing a basic blues melody. Then he began to sing.
Woke up this morning,
Flapjacks on my mind.
But my cupboards are empty,
And I ain’t got a dime.
I got the blues.
The pancake-dreaming
Belly-empty
Nothing-eating
Kind of blues.
Alicia wasn’t used to seeing this new, outgoing Gaz. She wondered if Saniyah had brought this out in him or if it was just being at the conference, surrounded by music, that was doing it.
When the song was over, the girls clapped, joined by some of the other patrons in the café.
“You just made that up on the spot?” Alicia asked, impressed in spite of herself. “That’s pretty cool.”
“That’s what makes it so much fun,” Gaz said. “The blues has some standard elements: ‘Woke up this morning’ and ‘having a really miserable day’ are two of them.”
Saniyah wiggled in her seat. “Oooh, my turn. Pick a word. Any word. But it would help if it’s a word that’s easy to rhyme.”
Alicia smiled not so sweetly and suggested, “Fire hydrant.”
Saniyah took out her guitar. “Tough customer. Let me see what I can do.”
She thought for a few moments. Then she began to sing.
Woke up this morning,
In my Chevrolet,
Parked next to a hydrant.
Now they’re towing me away.
I got the blues.
Why is life so unfair?
Cop saw me sleeping.
Should’ve just left me there.
I got the
Car-impounded
Heart-is-pounding
Lover-left-me.
Life’s-so-empty
Kind of blues,
Down deep in my soul.
The girls, even Alicia, along with Gaz, clapped for Saniyah.
“I’m playing tonight at a karaoke club,” she said, laughing. “It’s called the Tin Bucket. They’re having an under-twenty-one night. Y’all should come.”
“I’d love to!” Valeria said, still riding the wave of her new confidence. “It’ll give me someplace to show off my new hair.”
“Valeria can go,” Alicia said, “but the rest of us have too much quince work to do.”
“Come on,” Jamie said. “All work and no play…”
“Makes for some very dull amigas,” Carmen added, warming to the idea.
“Fine, fine,” Alicia said. “We’ll go. But we’ll have to have a working dinner. If we don’t focus more on the party, we’re going to sink into some serious doo-doo.”
“Great,” Saniyah beamed. “I’ll see you there.”
• • •
Later that night, after dinner, the crew went to hear Saniyah play. On the way over, Jamie and Valeria sat up front in the van, discussing the new theme and possible decorations. Carmen sat farther back, furiously texting Domingo. And in the last row sat Alicia and Gaz, as far apart as possible—not holding hands and not kissing. And for a while, not talking.
“I just don’t get it,” Alicia finally said. Since running into Gaz and Saniyah, she’d been giving him the cold shoulder. She couldn’t help it. It was a knee-jerk reaction. Part of her knew he would never cheat, and that he cared about her—a lot. But a teeny-tiny other part just couldn’t see past the smile he had shared with Saniyah while he sang. “Since when are you into blues music?”
Gaz looked confused. “What kind of question is that? I’m a musician. I’m into music of all kinds. A good musician lets it all flow, gets in touch w
ith his feelings and the people around him.”
Alicia couldn’t stop herself. All she could imagine was him getting in touch with Saniyah. Suddenly, she flipped.
“I’m really trying to be okay with this, Gaz, but I can’t pretend that your hanging out all the time with Austin’s answer to Selena Gomez doesn’t bother me. I saw the way you looked at her at the Hacienda.” She blinked back tears and continued, “You like her because the two of you have so much in common.”
Gaz looked as shocked by the outburst as Alicia was at having it. “Saniyah is a nice girl. She’s helping me out a lot with the industry stuff. But I don’t like her like that. I like you,” he said.
Alicia mustered up a small, rueful smile. He honestly looked as though he meant it. Wiping the tears from her face, she thought, then why doesn’t it feel that way?
The rest of the ride was silent, and by the time they got to the club, Alicia was actually looking forward to seeing Saniyah perform. Anything to put an end to this awkwardness. When they got inside, they saw a sawdust-covered floor. The unofficial uniform of the clientele seemed to be cowboy hats and Levis. Their jaws dropped.
“Welcome to your first honky-tonk,” Valeria said.
Jamie, who was wearing a dress and high heels, smiled and said, “We stick out like sore thumbs. I love it. It’s so easy to be renegade down here.”
The group found a table near the stage, and, a few minutes after they arrived, Saniyah came on. She was dressed like most of the audience, in a cowboy hat, a lavender pearl-buttoned shirt, and a pair of nondesigner jeans. “My name is Saniyah Camilo,” she said, “and I’m a sophomore at Austin High. It’s my pleasure to play a few songs for you tonight.”
Alicia watched her take a seat on a high stool onstage. Saniyah seemed as comfortable as if she were sitting in her living room.
“We all know that Austin is the live-music capital of the world,” Saniyah said, “but this week, because of South by Southwest, the city is overrun with visitors. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a few new friends from Miami who are here tonight”—Saniyah waved at their table—“so I thought instead of showcasing my new, original music, I’d stick with some country classics and sing a few songs by Miss Patsy Cline.”
Playing for Keeps Page 8
