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When Grace came over, I had already put on my boots and put up my hair in a pony tail. Grace came in strutting around the place in a miniskirt, pecking my mother on the cheek and saying, "Hi Auntie! Is Ximena ready?"

Before my mother could answer, I grabbed a mini pan dulce which my mother did this morning and bit into it, saying, "Yeah."

"Awesome." Grace gave me her full attention and laughed at my face. "What...is...that?" She said in between giggles.

My eyebrows furrowed. My mother, answered, "Face paint. She wanted it, so I did it for her. Isn't it beautiful?"

"More like derpy," Grace replied. My mother said nothing as she turned her back to us and took out plastic bags from one of the cabinets in the kitchen.

She gave one to me, and the other to Grace. "Now, I want to you back here by nine. Take your cell phone and a flashlight. Got it?"

I nodded. Grace had the decency to not roll her eyes.

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"I swear Ximena, sometimes I think you're really stupid," Grace said as we began our walk down the street. It was five in the evening and the sun had started to nestle in between the edge of the earth and the sky.

"Am not," I said as I put one foot in front of the other, following Grace.

Grace discarded her plastic bag at the border of the sidewalk and kept walking with determination. "I thought we were going trick-o-treating?" I asked. "It was going to be our last year, you said."

"Correction." Grace flipped her hair as her face turned to me. "You are stupid."

I said nothing. It was no point in arguing with Grace, she'd always win. She didn't actually think I was stupid, anyways, it was just that she'd really like to point her words at me--jab, jab, jab, knowing I would take it.

After walking a few blocks in silence, I put the plastic bag in the front pocket of my jeans. "Where are we going?"

Her eyes finally lit up and glittered. "A house party. Halloween house party."

"But you're not even dressed up."

"Yes I am!" Grace words were hard again. "I'm a teenager, duh. And you? Well you're a clown."

I wasn't a clown. I didn't bother explaining it to her. She cared so little about our culture.

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When we got there, it wasn't a party. It was about seven kids on the floor of a living room, passing around a joint. Grace said her hellos, as I waited for her at the edge of the room. She plopped on the floor and I was ignored.

After several beats I trudged further in and sat in the sinking couch. I sat there as puffs of smoke were pushed out of mouths and I wondered if, when I got out of there, were my clothes be filled with the stench that filled the space?

A kid with a thick eyebrows came in from the kitchen and sat next to me. He tried to talk to me, but I wasn't having it. "What's on your face?" He asked. And asked, and asked.

"What are you supposed to be?" He tried again.

"A clown," Grace said loud enough that everyone turned to face me. Blatant laughs came out of the circle and Grace joined in.

"A calavera," I said to the kid, which I noticed was much, much taller than me.

"A what?"

I tried again, with a different description, "A sugar skull face." He nodded.

"Why? And why only half?"

"Because she's weird," Grace inputted. "She so into this crap that it's pathetic and sad."

It was nice to have a cousin, who didn't hold back any insults. "It's for Day of the Dead."

Grace leaned on her arms, and stretched her legs. "But that's like not today. It's in a week or something. She's like loca or something." Or something. A phrase to lessen the blow, thanks Grace.

"Day of the Dead starts tomorrow and goes on for the day after that." I told the guy as he ignored Grace. "It's when the gates open and the spirits descend to the Earth to like mingle. It's a celebration for the people we love that have passed on."

"Boooooring," Grace emphasized. She awkwardly stood and dusted her behind. "So? When are we gonna drink?"

I guess the guy was the one in charge, 'cause he said, "Party's over."

"What?!" Grace was not happy. "How lame!"

I stood, took my place next to Grace as she kept complaining and nudging everyone else. I was glad, maybe we still had time to make it to a few houses for candy.

Once we made it to the door and Grace was trotting down the stoop, the boy was suddenly at my side. "You never told me why only half a face."

"Only half," I said like Mom explained to me, "because it's a transition between life and death, like a jump between two worlds."

His eyebrows crinkled. "Really."

I nodded as I heard Grace talking to some kids near the front gate. "Is that what you do?"

I felt myself smiling. "Of course."

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When I looked at my cell phone, the time was barely seven, so I convinced Grace to make it to a few houses, but not before she exclaimed, "What a sucky Halloween! We're going halfsies on the candy."

We walked, and walked and walked, house, by decorated house, filling the plastic bag that I had taken out of my pocket. Grace kept digging in for the best stuff like Snickers or Kit Kats, chewing and tearing wrappers and then discarding them on the concrete.

We were a block away from my apartment when Grace noticed the House Party Guy across the street. "Hey!" She exclaimed in recognition.

House Party Guy turned around and then made a beeline towards us. He had a little kid dressed as The Hulk by the hand. "You guys." That was all he said.

The little kid was nudge, nudge, "C'mon, let's go to that one. Let's go!" The kid was pointing at the house on the corner enclosed in a blanket of white spider webs and flimsy plastic glow-in-the-dark spiders.

House Party Guy looked at us and said, "C'mon."

Grace and I looked at each other and joined House Party Guy, his name being Dawn--not Don, he said, "My parents were hippies in the 60's, 70"s. Still are"--as he made normal conversation. I had to answer because suddenly Grace remembered that this was the guy that ruined her Halloween.

She took command of the candy bag that I had in my hand and walked farther away from us. The little kid, Dawn's brother Moss was trying to go with her, but Dawn kept his grip firm. "Why is she so touchy?"

"Grace?" I hadn't the slightest idea. It was like one day she was normal Graciela who would laugh at all my dumb jokes and then the next she was Grace, chip-on-her-shoulder-Grace. I shrugged, uncertain how to answer.

We stopped at the corner, when a car turned onto the street and made its way down the road. Once it was clear, we stepped into the pedestrian walkway. I circled a family with a stroller and noticed that Grace was already at the Spider house, waiting for the door to open.

Dawn and I stayed behind as Moss quickly walked forward and stood behind the mob of kids, waiting for his turn.

"I think it's pretty cool." I turned to Dawn, caught off guard. "That you and your family celebrate a tradition like that." I nodded. "Does Grace do that with you?"

I laughed. "No. Grace thinks all of this is stupid and a waste of time." Dawn seemed to take a real interest in Grace, I was starting to notice.

"Too bad." Yeah it was, that was the sad part.

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At the end of the night I invited Dawn and Moss for the Day of the Dead. Dawn was clearly looking at Grace when he said he'd be there. Grace turned the other way.

The next day, Grace and I were helping Mom arrange Cempazuchil flowers at the altar that we had set up in the backyard. "Dawn likes you," I whispered to Grace as Mom was attentive to the vases on the table. I was handing Mom flower by flower, while Grace was taking them out of the plastic packaging and rubber bands that held them together.

Grace frowned. "No. He doesn't." It seemed like she wanted to say more but she didn't. Once we were done with the flowers, Mom arranged the photographs of our relatives, lighted candles, arranged fruit and food and sweet bread and water. Gingerly, she placed a wooden cross in the middle and surrounded that with sugar skulls. She then took us inside and began to draw on our faces. At first Grace threw a fit, didn't want to be involved, she voiced. My mom was not hearing it, only told her to stay still or else she'd have talk with her mother. Grace's face caved, her eyes glassy.

Grace had bursts of colors on her face, it was bright blues, greens and reds, her eyes were emphasized with black hollows. My face was muted, simple swishes of and black and little half-moons of gold.

We dressed in traditional wear, long white dresses that Grace kept saying was itchy.

Grace and I came out to a full party. This was not a living room full of kids, but of family members and friends in the same gear as us or in regular wear. Grace got away to talk to her Mom.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see Dawn. He brought more marigolds and asked where to put them. I took him to the altar and motioned anywhere.

"I have a favor to ask," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Can I put a picture of my dad?" I nodded. He smiled as he took out a folded photograph and slowly opened it up. He smoothed it down and passed it on to me. I shook my head and pointed my open palm to the offerings.

"Anywhere?"

"Yes." He chose the far right corner, next to my dad.

The day pushed into the evening and before my mom had the time to notice, Grace had already slipped into jeans, a plaid shirt and the half-face Calavera was washed off, although a few white spots at the edge of her jaw were still there. When her mom noticed, there was a visible disappointment, but she didn't say it out loud, only made rounds with my mom.

Dawn stuck to me the whole night, asking questions, telling me stories about his dad. He seemed at ease with everything, unlike Grace who constantly jiggled her leg, up and down, up and down.

"Do you ever shut up?" Grace asked Dawn.

Dawn merely looked at Grace and smiled. "Ximena, doesn't mind, do you?"

"No. His stories are funny Grace." She glared at me.

"I'm outta here," she said after several minutes. She walked away, dodging relatives, while sneaking to the food table and grabbing a pan dulce.

"This is more than her usual her," I said. "Sorry."

"No worries. She's only afraid that there might be a wedge between you and her."

"What?" Where did he pick up on that?

"I obviously want to be your friend and she doesn't like it."

I blurted, "You wanna be her boyfriend, right?"

Dawn looked confused. "No." I had assumed that any boy that wanted to befriend me wanted to get to Grace. She did that to people.

There was a silence that stretched fairly long until he said, "This is nice. Thanks for doing something for my dad."

"No problem." I've already felt him, his dad I mean. Along with my dad, Tio Carlos and a few others. They slowly started to trickle in, it was like I could feel a pressure of a hand on my left shoulder and then a pleasant release. When I was little and first felt it, it freaked me out and I cried to my mom, until she said I shouldn't be scared, it was their way of saying they were there, at peace and I believed her.

Everyone that I knew and asked had a different way of celebrating Dia de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead. It didn't really matter how, but the why was important. We celebrated with food, drinks and music.

When it came to the silent prayer, even Grace showed up. She stood next to me as we linked our left hands and my right went to Dawn. In my palms I felt a warmth that enveloped me in security and a calmness that I knew everyone in that moment felt. We finished when a wind blew.

I turned and was surprised to see Grace was still there. Before she could get away, I gave her kiss on the cheek. We linked our hands again and she grinned, the first one of the night. I realized at that moment why she'd been acting so weird since I met Dawn. Why Dawn was not here for her, why there were so many stares, nudges, jokes and smiles directed at me.

She let go of me and gave me a silent nod. It seemed as everything settled between us. It wasn't going to go back to Graciela, it probably never would, but I was okay with Grace and so was she. There were probably going to be times when chip-on-your-shoulder-Grace would fully return. And honestly, we'd probably have a giant scream-fest when I was finally fed up with her crap and then a make-up, I mean we were family. We were stuck with each other no matter how much she disagreed with me.

I watched her walk away into the apartment until I couldn't see her head down, white makeup streaks on her left hand.

Turning back to Dawn I smiled at him, and him at I. Doing something bold, I stood on my toes, I brought Dawn's face down and kissed him on the cheek and I stared at him, a different kind of warmth enveloped me, while in the background a few marigolds took to the flowing wind.

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calavera- skull

loca- crazy

pan ducle- sweet bread

Graciela- pronounced: gray-see-EH-lah meaning: Favor; blessing

Ximena- pronounced: he-MEH-nah meaning: One who hears

Cempazuchil flowers- are marigolds and The Aztecs are said to have associated this beautiful flower's color with the sun and are believed to guide the spirits back to Earth

tio- uncle