Page 2 of The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean

“Everything is taken care of. There’s nothing you need to worry about right now except for making sureyouget ready,” Mom said. “Don’t forget the hairstylist will be there within the hour, so you need to get a move on if you’re going to be on time for pictures.”

“Yes, Mom,” Mandy said with a mouthful. Despite not being hungry, she thought the waffle was delicious—crisp on the outside, and soft, still a little warm in the middle.

“Now don’t get angry,” Mom said, and Mandy’s heart started pounding. Nothing good ever came after those words. Like the time Mom took Mandy to get a perm. Or the time Mom threw out Mandy’s entire seashell collection. “But I bought those shoes just in case you wanted to have them for the pictures.”

Mandy shouldn’t have told her mother about the baby-blue tennis shoes she purchased—but she had been so excited about them. Mom reacted exactly as expected. Creased brow. Puckered lips like she took a bite of expired yogurt. “Ihaveshoes.” Mandy attempted to keep her voice level, but she should’ve seen this coming.Thiswas Mom’s MO.

“I know. I know. And you can do what you want. But you really can’t wear those shoes for a proper ceremony, and I think you’ll really like these. They have blue soles and everything.” Mom sounded much too cheery.

Mandy was getting a headache. She couldn’t deal with this right now. “I’ll look at them.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” Mom said. “Now hurry up, and don’tforgetnotto wash your hair. The stylist said dirty hair is easier to work with.”

Too late. Mandy hadn’t forgotten, she just didn’t want stinky hair on her wedding day. “I remember.”

“And eat,” Mom said.

Mandy shoved another bite in her mouth. “On it.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. You’ll choke, honey.”

Mandywasthinking about choking someone.

They said their goodbyes, and Mandy checked the clock. Somehow an hour had passed since she’d gotten out of the shower. Her stylist would be there any minute, and Mandy was supposed to have her makeup done before she arrived. This was not a sign. But the conversation with Mom about the shoes played over in the back of her mind. Who was she to tell Mandy what she could or couldn’t wear to her own wedding? Or what was “proper” for her special day?

In less than five hours, she was set to marry the love of her life. Who saw her for who she was—flaws and all—she was sure of it. And it was going to be wonderful, and perfect, and there was nothing that was going to ruin this day.

She shoved waffle in her face like she’d been starved for a week—not even taking the time to enjoy her favorite breakfast food—and raced into the bathroom for her makeup.

Chapter Two

August 1998

It felt more likean October afternoon instead of an August one that day on Huntington Beach, but Mandy couldn’t have cared less. Her parents had finally given her and Isa permission to walk down to the beach for an hour by themselves. Withnoadult supervision. And it was glorious.

It wasn’t that Mandy didn’t like her parents. Actually, she loved them very much. And if she was being completely honest, she—occasionally—liked spending time with them; not that she’d ever tell them that. But Mandy was in middle school now. She was practically an adult, so it was time for them to stop treating her like a baby. Today’s excursion, with the salty breeze biting at her cheeks, felt like a step toward independence.

“What do you want to do now?” Isa pulled at Mandy’s arm, imploring action with her whole body. Her best friend was a doer, not an overthinker like Mandy, which normally was a difference in personality that served them well.

Mandy wiggled her toes in the sand, digging them down to the cold layer underneath. “That’s the best part.” She let the sea air fill her lungs. “Anything we want.”

Isa cocked a dark eyebrow at Mandy—raising just one—how did she do that?“Okay. Well, you have any ideas?” Isa spread her arms out, gesturing at the mostly deserted beach. Long stretches of sand and foamy surf lay in front of them, but all Mandy could see was possibilities.

A couple walked hand in hand along the shore. Every so often one of them would bend over and pick something up—collecting shells, most likely—and show it to the other. Mandy liked collecting shells—but she was particular about the ones she would bring home and display on her dresser. Plus, the water had to be freezing. Okay, notfreezingfreezing, but much too cold to swim in without a full wet suit, and even the idea of walking in it to look for shells sent shivers up Mandy’s spine.

She glanced around, her gaze sweeping over the long pier that jutted out into the ocean not far from them—Mandy could almost smell the funnel cakes mingling in the salty air. She instead focused on what looked to be an abandoned bucket buried in the sand, likely left by a small child. Mandy wasnota small child…but she did have an idea. “Let’s build a snowman.”

There went that eyebrow of Isa’s again. Her tell that something Mandy said sounded ridiculous.

“Fine. A sandman then.” Mandy made her way over to the purple bucket and dug it out, the sand burrowing under her fingernails in the process. A yellow shovel was attached to the handle, and it was completely intact, which was serendipitous. Like this was what they were meant to do.

Isa smiled and shook her head a little. Another one of her tells that she still thought the idea was silly, but she was more than willing to go along with it anyway. “Fine.”

That’s how their friendship had been ever since that fateful day Marisa Jiménez walked into Mandy’s kindergarten class—the pair had been inseparable. Mandy and Isa just got each other. They had a way of communicating that didn’t always require a lot of words—which was good, because Isa didn’t talk much back then, and Mandy never learned how to stop talking. They were perfect for each other. Isa was the cheese to Mandy’s macaroni. The peanut butter to her pickles. The salsa to her chips. Her best friend knew how to keep Mandy together when she felt like her world was falling apart. And even back in those kindergarten times, there were plenty of days where Mandy’s world was shaken and cracked, and Isa was there to put it all back together.

Things had gotten much better since then. Her parents went to marriage counseling, and Mandy got a therapist of her own—Miss Heather—whom she still saw regularly.

But today, a day of independence from adult supervision, all was well in Mandy’s world, and she was ready to enjoy the heck out of her afternoon with her best friend.

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