Valentina Karas

The next day, while Katelyn and Layla are discussing their homecoming plans, I'm stalking Asher's Instagram. I wish I had the capacity to listen to their excited chatter, but Asher occupies my thoughts more so than their talking about what dresses they're thinking about. 

Katelyn shows the group a short, baby pink dress with cutouts on the sides. "I really hope I can find something similar to this," she expresses. "If I buy it online, I bet it won't come until December."

"Good thing you know what you want." Layla's healed from her strep infection, but I can still hear it in her voice. "Should I do black again?"

Riley shakes her head. "Black's already taken, Layla."

"Get whatever you want, but you should try some color," suggests Katelyn. "Should we go to the mall or Begonia's first?" Begonia's, the boutique she mentioned, is a popular local spot with a few other locations around town. It is well worth the hype, but you need a doctor's salary to even afford the clearance rack. 

Riley ponders the question. "Begonia's is cute. It's like, right next to the mall."

"Yeah. I'm sure they have something similar to what you showed us, Katelyn," Layla adds.

As they continue their discussion, I try to act interested, nodding along and offering the occasional comment when necessary. But my mind keeps drifting back to Asher's Instagram feed, where I've been stalking for what feels like hours.

He only has six posts with four of them featuring him in a baseball uniform. Asher is versatile on the field, pictures of him pitching and fielding ground balls from different positions featured on his page. Last night, Asher mentioned that even though he could make it to the MLB, he isn't planning on it. 

Our conversation last night really changed my opinion. I thought he was just a charismatic playboy with a reputation to uphold, but at the end of the day he puts his pants on one leg at a time like everyone else.

As I click through his story highlights, Layla puts me on the spot. "It wouldn't be the same without you, V. We understand you have more serious priorities, but we want you there."

The thought of shopping with my friends sounds fun in theory, but when you're fatter than your friends, it's pretty stressful. I can squeeze into the biggest size at Begonia's if I suck in my stomach enough or I get lucky. My homecoming shopping was mainly there and I lucked out and got to try on more than a couple of dresses.

I'm not necessarily insecure, but I know I'm not the prettiest girl in the world. Katelyn Salazar deserves that title way more than I do. She looks like a supermodel with her tan skin and perfect body and I always feel self conscious next to her. I don't mind that my belly fat pokes out when I sit, but I have a million back rolls and massive love handles that I'm a bit more aware of.

"Let me think about it," I say, trying to buy myself some time.  

Layla raises an eyebrow. "Wait. You might be able to come to homecoming if-"

"No." I cut her off, refusing to entertain anything pertaining to Asher. He spilled his guts to me last night, but that doesn't mean jackshit in my book. "He would never."

Katelyn shoots me a knowing look. "When I saw Sawyer the other day, he mentioned Asher thinks you're pretty."

"Asher's a smart man," Riley puts in, unable to resist adding her two cents, which sends Layla and Katelyn into fits of laughter while I feel like crawling into a hole and dying.

My cheeks burning, I reply, "Guys, it's really fine. We literally have formal and prom. I can sit this one out."

Katelyn throws her hands up in defeat. "Come on, V. This is gonna be the three man of the century." 

"Don't pressure her too much, Katelyn. I don't think she has the capacity to worry about a guy." Layla's assumption is well meaning, but she doesn't understand I think he's pretty cute. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, he makes me excited to wake up again. 

I debate telling them how I feel before Layla turns to me. "Sorry I asked, Valentina. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

To tell her or to not tell her? She's dating one of his best friends so she won't judge me if I tell her, but I haven't quite sorted out my feelings all the way. I wish he would ask me, but the girls who were stuck to him like glue at the party were far more the type of girls he wants.

Sensing some tension, Riley changes the subjects. "I take it we're going to Begonia's to find dresses?"

"Sure," Katelyn says. She might not say it out loud, but she's not backing down until she gets to go on a three man and I participate in it.

After lunch, we disperse into our afternoon classes. I take a seat and pull out my computer to turn in my essay. Mrs. Ormond insisted I request for an extension on it, but I honestly would rather be productive and worry about my brother's well being.

I feel a lot lighter than I did at the beginning of the week, but what bothers me is I can't pinpoint why this weight's missing. As I sit in English writing an outline, my brother's getting his chemo at a nice hospital in the boujee Mountain View side of town and violently throwing up after each session. He hasn't completely lost his hair, but its thickness is starting to dwindle and looks significantly thinner every day. 

The feeling that everything's going to be fine is comforting, yet I can't help but feel selfish. Cancer homewrecked our family's life and even chips away at my parents' marriage. Last night I overheard a shouting match in Portuguese from their room that I still managed to sleep through. I guess I'm the only one who feels weirdly calm about it, as if I can accept any outcome.

My last class is Calculus. Mrs. Greer, my math teacher, is old enough to be my grandma but balances letting her students do what they want with making sure their work gets done. She has been nothing but amazing and understanding about what I'm going through. She doesn't bother me when I don't feel like talking much and seems genuinely concerned about how my brother's doing. 

She takes a break from writing on the board to offer me a sincere smile when I walk in, a small but meaningful gesture. It makes me feel as though people care.

As I settle into my seat, Mrs. Greer announces that we're about to take a test. The realization that I haven't been as on top of school as I thought I was hit me like a ton of bricks. It's evident that my classmates have been studying for this test for some time, but my priorities are so messed up by the challenges I'm facing at home that I'm only learning about it now.

Once, math was second nature, but now, the fogginess that clouds my thoughts makes even the simplest concepts seem daunting. I can't blame everything on Ronan's cancer. After all, it's not fair to him to accuse him of every minor inconvenience. Despite Mrs. Greer's kindness and understanding, my performance in her class continues to falter.

The test is merely three pages of numbers and equations I vaguely remember. I pick my brain for how to solve each one, but I just can't do it. It frustrates me that I was present in class when we learned the material on the test but evidently, my mind was in room 211 at St. Gabriel's instead of in the moment. 

When Mrs. Greer says we have fifteen minutes left, I panic. I'd normally be done with the test by now but today all I've done is write my name and feel sorry for myself. I finally come to my senses and wing it. My GPA can handle one bad grade. At the end of class, I give Mrs. Greer my unfinished test.

At the end of class, I sheepishly hand in my unfinished test to Mrs. Greer. She shoots me a solemn look as she collects it, her concern evident in her expression. "Did you finish, Valentina?" she asks softly.

"No ma'am," I mumble, earning a look of pity from the old lady. She doesn't question me further and continues collecting my classmates' papers.

I gather my stuff and head out the moment the bell rings, feeling a mixture of frustration at myself and relieved that the monster of a math test is over. I push away my disappointment because feeling sorry for myself won't heal my brother nor make my life the way it was before. 

~

Asher Mendez

Last night, I texted my stepsister for a second opinion on how to handle my feelings for Valentina and either she's busy with college or dead because I haven't heard a peep from her. When she lived at home, I'd trouble Francesca for advice about whatever I needed and it actually worked. Even though she lives across the state line now, I FaceTime her when Cecelia or any of her friends are being over the top, junior year is too much, or there's drama to share.

When I get home from school, I find Carmen in her home office to see if she knows anything. A few photos of my stepsister when she was little fill her desk, probably to feel her presence even if she's far away.

Carmen looks pleasantly surprised to see me. "Hola, Asher. Como fue tu dia?" 

"I don't know, Carmen. I just had a day." I say, earning a laugh from her. When my moms were first married, it was obvious they were happy together from the get go. Eleven year old me, however, was pretty frightened of my new stepmom. I was worried she'd be like the psychotic stepmom in Cinderella and Carmen flipped my misgivings on their head. 

Staring at a photo from a few years back of Francesca and I at the beach in the Bahamas, I remember what I'm doing in Carmen's office to begin with. "Have you heard from your daughter in the last couple of days? I've been trying to text her and she won't reply."

My question sparks a guffaw from my stepmom. "Esa chica ni responde a mis mensajes," she laughs, letting me know I'm not the only one who hears radio silence from Francesca. 

"Good to know," I say to myself. "Gracias, Carmen. Hopefully everything's alright with her. I need to ask her opinion on something." Carmen raises her eyebrows at me, but doesn't make me elaborate on what I mean.

After I'm done with my impossible French homework, I decide to try and call my stepsister and see if she picks up. I look up her contact on FaceTime and let it ring a few times. When she doesn't pick up, I annotate my book for English more than I need to as a distraction. 

Not even ten minutes pass before Francesca calls me back. My heart stops when my phone rings, but I answer immediately.

"What's up, kid?" Francesca says, only showing her nose and up. As we got older, I slowly transitioned from Asher to just kid.

"Hey, Francesca."

"What do you want?"

"Be nice to your brother," her boyfriend Vince chimes in, his voice instantly recognizable. When she's not in class, Francesca and Vince are always watching movies, talking, or just hanging out in either of their dorms. I've only met him a few times, but it's obvious he treats Francesca right and he treats me like his little brother. He's one of those skater guys who wears huge band t-shirts and cargo pants and chains to match. The only problem is that he's a bit of a druggie and turned my stepsister onto edibles. "What's the happs, Asher?"

"Hey," I reply.

"I'm helping your stepsister with a few things," he explains. 

Francesca reveals her entire face. "Sorry I haven't been able to talk. I've been really busy, but I promise I saw your text, kid. What's up?"

"Well, there's this girl I like..."

What sounds like a high pitched cheer comes from Vince. "Damn, Asher. Never thought this day would come. A little birdie told me that you've been quite the celibate."

"Shut up, Vince. I'm happy for you, Asher." Francesca says. "I hope it's not Cecelia."

I shake my head. "God, no. She doesn't even go to Mountain View."

"Who is it then?" Vince asks, sounding like a confused accusation more than anything.

I go on to describe Valentina, her personality, her family situation with her brother Ronan, and how I feel when I'm around her. Francesca and Vince listen intently, asking questions here and there for clarification. After I've spilled everything, dead silence is on the other end of the line.

"You're in a tough position, kid," is all she can say.

Vince chuckles lightly in the distance. "No shit. Can you put me on, babe?" Francesca obliges and puts the camera on her boyfriend. "First of all, congratulations."

"This is serious, Vince." Francesca's tone in the background is filled with warning. 

Rolling his eyes, he says, "Jesus, babe. But seriously, I'm proud of you for considering Valentina's situation instead of just trying to go for it. That takes a lot of maturity."

"Yeah," Francesca agrees. "Asher, I love that you're not just thinking about yourself and giving this girl space rather than jumping into anything you can't take back." Sensing a caveat, my face gives away my confusion.

Vince takes the words right out of her mouth. "But based on the way you talked about her, you really want to make something happen, don't you?"

"I guess."

Francesca has a thoughtful look on her face. "Personally, I would try to test the waters with her to gauge how comfortable she is. Add her on snap and see if she adds you back."

"Just to clarify, it's your friend's girlfriend's best friend, right?" Vince inquires, referencing what I told them earlier in the conversation.

I shrug. "It's a situationship more than anything."

"I agree with your sister," says Vince. "Test the waters a little bit, but not enough to freak her out. Ask your friend for her snap and add her."

I take in all their advice before posing another question. "You guys are really helpful, but should I ask Valentina to homecoming or not?"

My question hangs in the air, met only by silence from both Francesca and Vince. I don't blame them for taking their time to advise me on what to do. There's a lot to consider here: expressing my feelings while carefully considering her point of view, navigating the awkward timing of it all, and, most importantly, the ticking clock reminding me that I must make a decision soon.

Finally, Vince clears his throat. "Once you two have a few conversations, I'd say do it. I'm not trying to be a jerk when I say this, but don't expect a yes."

Francesca is more cautious than her boyfriend, but her advice hits the nail on the head as always. "Just don't be surprised if she says no. I know you don't want to hear it, but she's going through a lot and that might not be what she needs."

"Got it." Their advice helps me figure out my next steps. Even though Francesca's in North Carolina, it hasn't changed how willing she is to support me through high school. What's a few hundred miles if she still has my back? "Thanks for listening, guys."

"Keep us posted, kid,"  Vince smiles. "Who knows? She might even let you run the bases."

"Vincent! You can't say that shit. This girl's brother's dying." Francesca's disapproval makes him look at her like a guilty child. 

I let out a quiet chuckle. "In that case, I won't keep you two. Thanks again for your help."

"Of course, Asher."  Vince has a fearful look in his eyes thanks to my stepsister's sternness.

After the call, I go back and forth about asking Sawyer for Valentina's snap. Doing so would be a tacit admission to both myself and him that I like her, a prospect that honestly freaks me out. Sawyer's becoming rather nosy, instigating situations just to gather ammunition against people and have something to gossip about. 

I could also ask Knox, which sounds like a safer bet. Five and a half months separate the two of them, and although Knox is the younger out of the two, he knows not to butt into situations that don't involve him. 

Hey can you do me a favor, I text him. 

Knox usually takes more time to respond than Sawyer, so I don't expect him to do it immediately. A few minutes pass before Carmen tells me that dinner is ready. I leave my phone in my room so I don't get yelled at. 

After eating Carmen's chicken flautas that are so damn good they made me forget about what I need from Knox, I head back to my room. I change out of the white button down, navy blue and grey tie, and black pants that Mountain View's uniform consists of and put on a wife beater. While I was at dinner, Knox replied, Sure gang, what do you need?

Do you or Layla have Valentina's snap?

Knox opens my text, then replies, I don't but I'm sure Layla does. 

Can you ask her for it?  There it is. Even if I'm not saying the words, it's tangible evidence that I like her.

I think she's at dance rn but I got you, he obliges. A sigh of relief escapes my lungs, grateful that Knox doesn't press the issue further than he needs to. 

Another hour passes by before Knox texts me again: Layla just got done imma ask her. With Francesca's warning playing in my mind, I brace myself for possibly being rejected. I'm freaking out: my heart rate's 200 beats per minute right now and my hands are damp with sweat, but I find it in me to be excited. 

My phone finally buzzes with the long awaited message from Knox: It's valentinak2

(hopefully that isn't a real person's snap)

With trembling fingers, I click the profile and add Valentina as a friend. The moment I hit the add button, I know I'm crossing the Rubicon. A wave of apprehension washes over me. What if she doesn't add me back? What if she does, but we only have one conversation then never talk again? I know how to talk to girls, but the way she listens to everything that comes out of my mouth with a thoughtful look in her blue-grey eyes freaks me out.

When I'm with Valentina, I feel...vulnerable, but a comfortable kind of vulnerable, you know? The girls at school treat me like some kind of Justin Bieber or Michael B. Jordan. It can be kind of dehumanizing to be regarded as this golden boy with no problems.

That's the problem with Mountain View. The people who can afford its $25,000 dollar tuition have access to an elevated education and variety of opportunities, but the people are fucking draining to be around. It's obvious everyone's showing up to school as a shell of who they are to fit in and avoid the judgmental side-eyes of the people around them. I don't really know what the person who sits next to me in math is going through after he drives home in his Jaguar.

I can't take it anymore. I put my phone on do not disturb and put it on its charger so I'm not stressing myself out about her anymore. My hands are soaked at this point, so I just wipe them on my sheets. 

The gravity of my move hits me as I plop onto my bed. Taking that step means more than just potentially securing a date for the dance. It's about seizing the vulnerability, the uncertainty, and the possibility of something genuine with a girl I like.

I can already imagine the looks of shock from Cecelia and her friends when they see me with a girl who doesn't even go to Mountain View. We'll have a blast despite the dirty looks and whispers exchanged between the clique. Plus, Valentina will look absolutely stunning in a dress. The prospect of seeing her curves fill out a figure hugging dress makes me giddy like a sugar filled elementary schooler. 

I'm getting ahead of myself. As Vince advised, just telling Valentina how I feel completely unprovoked will definitely scare her off, especially given her priority is her brother. I'm just going to snap her and talk to her and if she matches my energy, I'll pop the question.

Ten minutes pass before the temptation to check my phone prevails. Unplugging it makes my heart race way faster than it should and opening Snapchat makes it worse. 

She added me back.

~

what do we think of this chapter? are the emotions realistic? which characters do y'all enjoy? buckle up for the next few chapters.