Page 7 of Puck and Prejudice

Lydia drops her backpack in the middle of the entry hallway and asks, “Are you leaving for the Lions party already?”

I narrow my eyes. “In a few minutes. Why?”

“Great! Then I can come with you.”

“Excuse me? I’m going to work, Lydia.”

“Mari Carmen said I could come.”

I turn to Paco’s daughter. “What’s going on?”

“I asked Dad if I could come and bring Lydia. We’re going to help him.”

I know Mari Carmen will actually help her father. Lydia won’t. She’ll be trolling for autographs and selfies. I wish I could saynot my problem. Paco knows how Lydia is. But I can’t simply not care. She’s my sister, and therefore, my responsibility. Besides, I don’t want her doing anything embarrassing in front of Chad or, God forbid, Jackson Darcy. When I googled Chad, several pictures of him came up standing next to Major Stick Up His Ass. They’re friends.

“Have you asked Mom if you can go to the party?”

“Not yet. Mom!” Lydia shouts as she walks down the hallway. “Mom!”

“Are you sure your father said it was okay to bring Lydia?” I ask Mari Carmen.

“Yeah, as long as I don’t let her wander off on her own.”

I grimace.Good luck with that. Sometimes I wonder if Paco can ever say no to Mari Carmen. Her mother died when she was a baby, and he’s been raising the kid alone. He spoils her rotten, and I honestly don’t know how she’s not a brat.

Lydia returns to the entry hallway with Mom in tow, talking at a hundred miles per hour. “The party will be great, Mom. Lots of famous people will be there.”

Mom looks at me. “Izzie, what party is Lydia going on about?”

The less details Mom knows, the better. “I don’t know, Mom. Paco asked if I wanted to work at a private event. That’s all I know.”

“It’s a party for the Miami Lions! All the hockey players will be there. Please, Mom, can I go?”

Mom’s eyes light up. “Hockey players, you say?”

“Yes. It’s gonna be so much fun.”

I can tell Mom is no longer listening to Lydia. The gears in her head are working furiously as she appraises me. “Are you sure you want to wear your hair like that?”

I touch my low ponytail. “Yes, Mom. I need to wear my hair like this. It’s part of the dress code.”

She presses her lips into a thin, flat line.

Jane joins us then, looking like a goddess with her beautiful, silky blonde hair and perfect skin. “I’m ready,” she announces, not knowing what she walked into.

Hope flares in Mom’s eyes. “Are you performing at the party?”

“Yes. Why?”

“What dress are you wearing?”

“The usual red and black dress.”

“What about after the performance?”

Jane looks at her leggings, ballet flats, and oversize off-the-shoulder top. “Uh… this?”

I can sense Mom has a retort on the tip of her tongue, so I butt in. “We need to go, Mom.”

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