“Are you saying Isa will lose her college money?” Isa had never mentioned this to Mandy. She had said that she would have to figure out loans and how to pay for things when they got back but never said she was giving anything up. Why wouldn’t she tell Mandy something as important as this? “She never said.”

“Isa wants to do what will make you happy.”

Mandy wasn’t sure how she should feel hearing that. She wanted to do what made Isa happy too. They had made plans together, but as the porch swing shifted under her, Mandy realized how much of these plans had been made around Mandy. Plans Mandy had made months before Isa was even a part of them. This trip was Mandy’s dream. “I can’t not go.”

“And Isa can’t not be a doctor.” Abuela took Mandy’s hand. “Ahogado el niño, tapando el pozo.” Mandy scrunched her face. What did kids and wells have to do with this? “It’s better to do what is right now, before worse things happen,” Abuela said. “It won’t be easy, for either of you, but it will be what’s best.”

Mandy understood. Isa needed to be a doctor, she needed her scholarships, and Sandy had worked so hard to help Isa achieve her dream. Having Isa come with Mandy could ruin that dream for Isa forever. And if Mandy didn’t go, it would ruin her dream. A knot formed in Mandy’s chest. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“I know, mija. But it’s for the best.”

Was it though? How could not being with Isa be the best thing? What would she say if Mandy told her Abuela talked to her? So many questions raced through Mandy’s head.

Long after Abuela left, Mandy’s stomach was still in knots asshe lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. There had to be a way to figure this out. There had to be something Mandy hadn’t thought of so they could both get what they wanted.

Maybe Mandy could help pay for Isa’s college. Then again, she was already going to be upset Mandy bought her shoes; there was no way Isa would let Mandy do that. Maybe Isa wouldn’t lose all her scholarships. Or maybe there was something else she could do to arrange it with the school—like get a job or work on campus. How much could it cost to go to Boston University, anyway? Mandy never looked up colleges or how much they were because she knew she wasn’t going to one right away.

Determined that there had to be something she hadn’t thought of, Mandy sat at her computer and started to search. Student loans. College tuition. Personal loans. Off-campus housing—it wasn’t like Mandy could stay in the dorms with her. Would Isa still be allowed to live there if she were late checking in? Wow, apartments in Boston were expensive. Mandy would definitely need her parents’ help if she wanted to move there. They loved Isa, but they weren’t going to like this. They’d also want to know what Mandy would plan to do—she hadn’t really thought about it beyond just being with Isa.

Then Mandy searched for her art program. Looked at all the pictures of smiling students and of the school’s spacious studios to work in. Plus, she’d already paid to watch a guest lecture and demonstration from one of her favorite artists. When would she ever get to do that again?

Isa wanted to experience Europe with Mandy. She wanted them to eat fish and chips, and buy ridiculous hats, and drink espresso from tiny little cups at an outdoor café, and Isa really wanted to see the Eiffel Tower. Mandy wanted to do those thingswith Isa too. They’d made plans and had maps with special star stickers on them of all the things they wanted to experience together. But none of that was what Isaneeded.

Abuela was right. Isa had too much to lose—and their dreams of being together in Boston weren’t going to be as easy as they’d hoped. Mandy was being selfish thinking Isa could drop everything to be with her. Isa had worked too hard. But just telling Isa no, that she couldn’t come along, wasn’t that simple. Tears soaked into Mandy’s pillow. She was going to have to do the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. She was going to have to break Isa’s heart, and in the process, she’d also be breaking her own.

Chapter Twenty-Six

May 1995

There was something aboutbeing at school when it wasn’t school time that felt rebellious or naughty, even if it was for a school event. Everything about being there felt different. The lights were brighter, the carpet in the hallway bluer, and it didn’t smell like tomato sauce or whatever was cooking in the cafeteria. Actually, tonight it smelled like fresh-baked cookies—chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin.

This wasn’t the first night Mandy’s parents had gone to her school, but this was the first time Mandy’s art was going to be on display.

It was GAT’s first official “A Night for Stars” program, where the theater and music kids would perform, and there would be a gallery showing off every student’s artwork. Mom said something about it being because of the school’s new director, but Mandy didn’t care why. She skipped along through all the kindergarten and first graders’ art until she came to the wall full of all the second graders’ projects. Mom and Dad lingered behind,carefully inspecting all the drawings and paintings along the way, commenting on this or that, but Mandy didn’t pay much attention. She wanted them to seeherart. Their art teacher had been keeping it all year to display for this very occasion.

“Mandy, nice to see you.” Her art teacher, Mr. Wu, held out his hand for a high five, and Mandy jumped into the air before slapping his palm with hers, unable to contain her excited energy anymore.

“My mom and dad are here too.” Mandy turned around and pointed at them as they finally came wandering up behind her.

“It’s so good to finally meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Dean,” Mr. Wu said. “You must be so proud of Mandy. She’s one of my best students.”

Mom didn’t hang Mandy’s art on the refrigerator like they did at Isa’s house. She had black frames that hung on the walls where she would periodically swap old pieces for new ones. The one exception was the rainbow that hung in Dad’s office. As soon as that painting came home, it went up there and never got taken down.

“She’s our little Picasso.” Mom laughed.

“Hopefully not as tragic, but talentwise she’s well on her way.” Mr. Wu chuckled. “Have you seen what she’s been working on this year?” He led them to the middle of the second-grade display, where one of Mandy’s paintings hung right in the center. For this project, they were each supposed to select an animal and paint it as best they could. Mr. Wu had expressed the importance of showing detail and texture, and where most of her classmates decided to use the natural color of the animal they chose, Mandy went the completely opposite way. She picked bright colors in varying shades, and she layered on the paint andused the edge of her pencil to carve grooves into it when it was drying.

Dad put a hand on Mandy’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Looks like I’m going to need to buy another frame,” Mom said.

“This one is mine too.” Mandy walked a little farther down and pointed to another one of her pieces. They had to use charcoal for that one, so it wasn’t as bright, but she thought it still turned out pretty good.

“You’re going to need a lot of new frames, I think.” Mr. Wu gave Mandy another high five. “If you’ll excuse me.” And he left them to go talk to other parents.

“So tell me about this one,” Mom said. That’s what she always did. She never told Mandy what she thought, or commented on anything; she would always ask her first.

“We got to pick out different objects from this big box, and I thought these flowers were the prettiest,” she told them. “They were kind of an ugly orange color, but since it’s black-and-white, you can’t really tell.”