Page 41 of The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean

“Thanks. Even if that is coming from someone I just met who doesn’t know tosh.” She fingered the cuff of Mandy’s sweater. “This is nice though.”

The indigo polka dots were her favorite—a present from Isa’s mom a few years ago, and one of the few items in Mandy’s wardrobe that wasn’t black. Maybe she should get rid of it. “I like what you have on,” was what Mandy replied instead of thinking about Isa or bursting into tears.

“Do you? Well, we’re going to get along right nice. It’s my own design.” Sophie seemed to hold her head even higher than it was before, and then she took another drink. “How you liking that?”

Mandy glanced down at her untouched beverage. “I’m not sure I really like beer.”

“That’s because American beer is rubbish. Go on.”

Mandy tentatively raised the glass to her lips and sipped the amber liquid. It was bitter but then tasted a little citrusy.

“So?”

Mandy shrugged. “It’s okay.”

Sophie laughed again. “Well, get used to it, ’cause that’s what we drink here.”

Mandy raised her glass. “Cheers then, I guess.”

Sophie shook her head. “Oh, you have so much to learn.” But then she clicked her glass against Mandy’s.

Conversation after that flowed smoothly. Maybe it was the beer or Sophie’s whole relaxed attitude, but hanging out with her was easy. Like somehow they always fit together. The downside to this was that the only other person who was like that forMandy was Isa. So while she enjoyed hanging out with Sophie, it also deepened the ache in her chest. It was hard to even try to have fun when Mandy felt so terrible. And to make it worse, all she wanted to do was tell Isa about this amazing person she met, and how she had a real beer in a real pub, and…she couldn’t.

Chapter Twenty-One

May 2011

While it felt likea much more significant achievement to graduate from college than from high school, only Mandy’s parents were there to witness her accomplishment. As much as she said it wasn’t a big deal, it kinda was, and now that the day was there staring her in the face, she wished she had pressed the importance of it a little more. At first, she was embarrassed that she graduated a few years after many of the kids she had gone to high school with. Most of them were already knee-deep in their careers of choice, and there Mandy was still trying to figure her shit out. A degree in painting and drawing, another in digital media, with a minor in Spanish seemed like a good idea at the time, but what was she going to do now?

Mandy was an artist. While she of course appreciated the works of so many out there, she wanted to be the one people appreciated. She wanted her paintings to be hanging in museums one day. There were plenty of artists who were idolized with alot less talent than Mandy. She didn’t just paint a bunch of dots on a canvas and call it great art.

She fussed with the tassels around her neck; they kept slipping to one side, and the last thing Mandy wanted was for them to fall off or for her to trip over them as she made her way across the stage. Not that anyone besides her parents was there to see it, and they loved her and were proud of her no matter what. Deep down Mandy really wanted Isa to be there, but she had her own finals she couldn’t miss. Mandy understood better than anyone how important school was for Isa, but it didn’t make it any easier that she wasn’t there on Mandy’s special day.

If it hadn’t been for Isa, Mandy might never have even gone back to school. It had been spring break, and Isa had come home once again to visit her mom and abuela—this time without Tally. It wasn’t that Mandy didn’t like Tally, it just always felt like Tally was competing for Isa’s attention when Mandy was around, or Tally had to make it clear that Isa was with her. The way she would always find a reason to touch Isa or to interrupt with a story about their life in Boston. Mandy had her chance with Isa and blew it; she knew that and didn’t need the constant reminder.

But that week Isa was back without Tally. Isa had finally stopped asking Mandy “Why?” by that point and seemed to be okay with how things were. Maybe she finally accepted Mandy was never going to give her a real answer because she couldn’t. In many ways it felt like old times. When they could tell each other anything and could finish each other’s sentences.

“You haven’t said anything, but I know you have an opinion already, so just tell me.” Isa and Mandy had been walking on the beach, heading toward the pier, where Mandy contemplatedgetting an elephant ear, but she knew immediately what Isa was talking about, and had been avoiding the conversation since Isa showed up at her door. Now, it seemed, there would be nothing preventing them from having this discussion.

“Honest opinion?” Mandy asked to buy her a little time. Things had been going okay between them, and she really wasn’t ready to mess that up.

“They’re that bad. I knew it.” Isa tried to cover her face with her hair, but a gust of wind made her efforts fruitless. “Why didn’t you say something before we left the house? I could’ve cut bangs or something.”

Mandy almost laughed, but she held it in. When Isa showed up with extremely manicured eyebrows, the last thing Mandy wanted to do was mention them. “Bangs would just highlight them more.”

“Not if they were long enough.” Isa pressed her hand on her forehead. “When my regular girl wasn’t there, I should’ve left. Why didn’t I leave?”

“Because you’re too nice.” That was true. Out of the two of them, Isa was definitely the nicer one.

“Too stupid, is more like it.” Isa stopped, so Mandy did too. “You can show me how to fix them, right? With like a brow pencil and some of your magic.”

Mandy took the opportunity to study her friend. Really study her the way she used to be able to before. The dusting of the faintest freckles were still on Isa’s cheeks. Her Cupid’s bow was still higher on the right side, and her bottom lip just as full. And her eyes. Her eyes were still a place Mandy wished she could get lost in. “They’re different, that’s all. They aren’t ‘bad,’ just different.”

“Are you sure? You wouldn’t lie to me about this, would you?” That question stung deep. Before, she wouldn’t have ever asked Mandy such a thing. Before, she would’ve taken Mandy’s word and moved on. But things were different now, not just Isa’s brows.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” Mandy surprisingly kept her voice steady. “And if you want, I can show you how to fill them in a little more. Not”—Mandy rushed to say—“because they look bad, but if it would make you feel better, I’d be happy to do it.”

“It would.”

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