Maxine cried.

I haven't seen her cry this much since they took Sex in the City of Netflix.

She ugly cried....In public

She cried at the bar before she threw her raspberry vodka spritzer in Marcus's face.

She lashed out, tears streaming down her cheeks and fist aimed at Faith.

I don't blame her after Faith called her a crazy b-word.

She cried in the dirty, sticky Terrapin's Turf bathroom until Jaquan had to escort us out for causing a scene. Washing her face at the sink temporarily cleared her tears and congestion, but her eyes were bloodshot red and hazy, cheeks flamed pink, and her ginger hair had taken on a life of its own.

She was a drunken mess.

With stumbled steps, she cried in front of Marcus and repeatedly told him he was a butthole in the parking lot calling him small penis energy over and over again.

But the best part out of it I was able to see Mr. Syrup eyes again.

Jaylan

In a flash of brown skin painted with tattoos, he separated the two scorned ex-lovers yelling nonsense phrases at each other they don't mean.

Warmth tingles in my tummy as I remember his deep, thunderous, and husky voice. My skin raised with goosebumps, not from the cold but how he spoke with dominance, telling Max to calm down as she impolitely fisted his back.

When he buckled her into the back seat of her Jeep, our shoulders lightly brushed against one other.

Jaylan...

Around strings of curse words aimed at his manparts, she yelled for him not to put his dirty paws on me as he delicately moved me and shut the door. He was so gentle about it, there wasn't a naughty thought about it. She made him seem like he's an evil cartoon man, with a curly mustache ready to tie me down on the railroad tracks for the train to get me. But it was far from it.  His hand felt like an exfoliator to my skin, prickly but it felt so good, a little too good because it's making wonder what else it wou-... nevermind

I sigh dreamily with a smile, rubbing my cheek on my shoulder and thinking how he opened the door for me. He made sure I got into the Jeep safely, like I'm the Princess of Mexico. We exchanged one last glance without saying anything else. 

I think Wilmer Vanderama has competition and he better step up.

Conor agrees.

On the way home, Max sobbed, telling us how stupid she was to fall for Marcus playboy ways. Then she tells us about the explicit racy details she should not have done to satisfy him and how he didn't deserve it.

I feel like it's her mission to try to deflower me with her words sometimes.

She cried all night, her raspy, choked sounds and squeals echoing through the whole house. Lexi and I slept in her bed to soothe her because we needed sleep after that night.

Plus, it was going on 'till five am.

All yesterday, she cried in her room and played I Bet by Ciara loudly, aggressively singing to the chorus with Lexi. I stayed at the library until ten thirty at night with Spencer.

Since last night, I don't recognize Max. For the first time I remember, she skipped workouts this weekend.

She ate two dozen insomnia cookies with me. I got to pick this time.

She made rants on her social media that boys ain't... Well... you know what I mean.

She threw away every pair of underwear she owned, then went binge shopping at the Cupid Store.

Whatever that is.

Today is Sunday, a new day, a new week.

I could only think of one option that might help after a heartbreak: eat tacos, drink tequila, and listen to Ese Hombre on repeat.

Because that man Marcus is estupido.

I'm hoping the smells of fresh tortillas and lingering spices are enough to seduce her out of the dark, sage-smelling, black hole of a bedroom she's been hiding in.

Unsure if she agrees with me or just wanted my cooking, Lexi set up as my helper for Sunday night dinner. Like every time she sees me wear Mamà's pink Let's Avocuddle apron, she l knows I mean business.

Food is comfort. Food can warm the stomach and give off oxytocin.

I once wrote a stupid essay about a study on how chimpanzees suggests sharing food can increase oxytocin.

Isn't that cool?

I giggle, remember reading that chimpanzees who possess large, desirable food items, like meat, honey or large fruit, share food with their friends.

Another article mentions that preparing a meal with friends or family can provide enjoyment in addition to nourishment. You don't just share the finished meal, you spend time with people you like and bond over its creation. After reading that, I made it my mission to make sundays full of oxytocin.

I miss doing this with Mamà and Isabela too.

"How does this look?" Lexi whispers with watery eyes.

I glance over at the diced-up onions and cilantro on her cutting board and give a thumbs up.

"These onions," Lexi sniffles, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

I giggle softly while she fans herself.

"Wooo!" Lexi howls, walks out of the kitchen to clear the air.

"¿Qué cebollas usaste hija? (What onions did you use?)." Mamà raises her eyebrow. She most have just done them how perfectly even they are.

She is so beautiful

My eyes memorize her face, which is all dolled up. Her chestnut, curly hair is pinned back, probably from going to Mass this morning.

She never wears red lipstick.

I curiously arch my brow and snicker at her because she is so particular about ingredients.

I guess that's why everyone loves her food.

"Cebollas Blancas mamá (white onions)." My lips curve up scanning our kitchen background with all the spices and Isabela waving behind her.

My stomach twist as I focus on Isabela shaking her hips looking in the refrigerator with moments later Mateo shoving her out the way.

"¡Ya, basta! (knock it off)." Mamà twist her body around. Bouncing my shoulders, I place the knife down on the cutting board.

I told Mamà briefly what happen, not the club part.

She would lose it.

When I told Mamà, she reminded me of my prima, Mariana, when she was heartbroken.

That was a dumpster fire situation.

Mariana found out her fiancé Luis decided to go to Pasarelas Cabaret the night before their wedding, to have 'one last night as a free man.' Let's just say Tìo Victor threw him like the hulk across the country of México for the amount of money he and Tìa Anita spent on Mariana's wedding.

Mariana stayed at our house and cried all week, stained mascara and piles of tissue stacking up on my bed like Cerro de la silla.

I chew the inside of my cheek, remembering the pierced howls of heartbreak and Ese Hombre loudly serenading our entire neighborhood for a month. 

Nothing worked for her.

Not even Alejandro, the DJ from Club Tabú, could cure her broken heart, and he was muy guapo (very handsome).

Seeing Mariana like that made me not want to be in a relationship if I was only going to get hurt.

Witnessing Max right now confirms that theory. She is one of the strongest woman I know but even she can be broken which has happen in the past.

But Max can raise above I just know it.

Mamá and Papá couldn't take anymore after Mariana stayed for a whole three months. So the only thing our family was known for was to throw a fiesta, so we held one to cure her broken heart.

I miss those parties, when my whole family celebrated under one roof.

Mamá made it her mission to set Mariana and Alejandro to get together and get her out of the house. Mamá always says that food and salsa ignite a passion when mixed together, so she and Abuela cooked all day.

Lots and lots of it. And I helped because I wanted my room back.

"Mija, asegúrate de usar una cucharada de orégano seco. (My daughter make sure you use one tablespoon dried Oregano.)" Mamá's voice breaks up through the connection and my phone screen freezes.

"¿Què?" I ask, but I glance to see my screen is now saying a message of defeat.

The video will resume automatically when the connection improves.

I impatiently sigh and take my phone from where it is propped up against the kitchen wall.  Before I take my phone off wifi, Mamá's face appears close up, causing me to snicker at how close she is to the screen.  

"Es esto mejor? (Is this better?) " Mamá moves her face so close, I practically see up her nose into her brain.

I couldn't help but belly laugh because Mamá is not really good with technology.

"Si mamá, mucho mejor (Yes, much better)." My phone shakes as I giggle at her.

She crinkles up her nose and lets out a hearty sigh, reading my face. It made my heart sink, but my hands become clammy of thought how much she really misses my laugh and beautiful mind like she always says.

A pinching sensation squeezes my chest.

I miss her too.

I am thankful for technology that lets me see and speak with her, but I miss her warmth. I can't wrap my arms around her or hold her hands while we dance together, only for sometimes Papà to join in and steal me away. I love the way Papà would twirl Mamà around, radiating their love in the room.

I long to have that someday.

I miss the smell of what she's making for our family, inciting me to sneak those sweet, delicious chewy, soft Polvorones which would always earn a smack on my conga drum.

I miss hearing her unfiltered laugh in my ears.

"Asegúrate de usar una cucharada de orégano seco (make sure you use one tablespoon dried Oregano)." I nod, follow her instructions, and use the tablespoon, adding the final ingredient to the carne asada.

"Gracias Mamá." I smile at her, and she reflects it back.

"Te amo y que tengas un buen primer día de trabajo. Estoy orgulloso d-. (I love you and have a good first day of your jo-.)."

The connection breaks up, and the call ends. I try recalling, but it kept failing. My lip turns downwards, knowing we won't talk again because the connection sometimes where we live can be bad because of the mountains.

Disappointed, I set my phone down on the counter. I exhale sharply but end up inhaling the spice in the process, which burns my throat. I start to cough and tears begin to form.

Yeah, I don't know how Mamá overuses the cayenne.

I step back and put the seasonings back in our cabinet because they sit scattered all over the kitchen counter.

Before the bad connection, I told Mamá about my tutoring job tomorrow at school. She literally lit up my words with her encouragement. Nothing is compared to loving, supportive, encouraging words coming from your Mamá. She went on to tell me about Abuela and Tìo Victor but nothing about how Papà is doing.

Of course.

A tear falls down but I snicker at Mamá yelling at Mateo to turn his music down during our call because he was playing futbol with Bonnie. I can't believe Mateo is seventeen. He will be coming to the United States to play fútbol in the fall for Clemson University, so he will be here at least by me. At least that was his last plan.

Maybe I could get a hospital job there so I'm near him.

I'm so proud of him.

"You got this house smelling good!" Lexi sniffs in the aroma of food coming from the kitchen.

I burst out giggle, mixing the carne asada that's finally cooked. With my spoon, I lift up a piece and motioned Lexi to come over to the stove.

"It's hot." I fan my hand over to cool it. "Here."

I feed her, which closes her eyes and she moans in delight. "If I didn't like dick..." Lexi licks her mouth of all the flavors.

I crinkle my nose at her vulgar choice of words to the male body. Lexi pulls out the blue transparent glassware we traditionally use for our family dinners on Sunday.

"Dang, that lingers." Lexi licks her lips, and I sheepishly smile.

"Is it good?" I inquire.

"Good enough for you to get a man, maybe even two." Lexi laughter heightens and eyes the pan like she's considering another sample before we get Max.

I shake my head at her compliment and help her put the food in the blue transparent plates. Lexi poses and leans on the counter tilting her phone up. I stand on my tippy toes and beam brightly.

"How was your little date with Spencer last night." Lexi teases.

I palm my forehead and Lexi playfully bumps into me. "We were just studying."

"I know but I think it was cute he got you Chick-fil-A and you both celebrated National chocolate cake day."

It doesn't mean it was a date. I know what a date is or do I? I mean I know I can't go off Pinterest expectations but I do know how what my date to go.

Spencer was just being nice and I vented to him about what happen this weekend. So with a bribe of school work, Chick-fil-A and cake I was in.

Sure we watched an episode of Suite life of Zack and Cody or two possibly a season which caused us to stay late.

But Spencer was being a friend.

My cheeks warm up at her words. "He was just being nice."

Lexi playfully pokes me."Because he likes you." Her voice heightens.

I crinkle my nose, "He just a friend and besides between you and Max, I'd rather stay single until after I graduate,"  I deadpan.

Lexi scoffs, "Our problem is athletes."

Even though I feel like I'm asking an obvious question, I ask anyways, "Why date them?"

Lexi sighs disconsolately at my provoking question. "There's nothing wrong with dating athletes, but sometimes their heads become too inflated. They think they are too important and they forget who they hurt," Lexi cautions while she reaches to get the matching blue transparent cups.

"And that's why I'll wait for Wilmer Valderrama," I chortle.

Lexi laughs jovially, and my smile widens. "I'm sure Wilmer Valderrama is waiting for you, too, Lizzie. But in the mean time don't forget about Spencer. He is a good guy."

I shrug up my shoulder, "I know but I rather not."

I don't want to ruin my relationship with him and besides I think he likes Carly. They always walk home from class with each other.

Lexi hums, "Why not?"

"He likes Carly." I admit.

Lexi presses her lips, "For a guy to celebrate Bike to School Day last year with a basket to match your bike. He likes you."

My cheeks get warm at the thought but he was just being kind. He doesn't like me.

I furrow my brows, "Lexi,"

"Elizabeth." She parrots back. "It's okay to like him." Lexi taunting smile makes me furrow my brows.

"As a friend."

Lexi eyes brighten, "I really want you to adventure out Lizzie this is senior year. Despite all Max crazy ass rules."

Out of no where, "I heard that!" Max voice croaks

Bouncing my shoulders,"I know but can't I just live first."

"For this month."

"Let's try February."

"No!" Max abrupt again.

Lexi rolls her eyes and whispers extending her hand  "Deal."

"Deal."

We laugh heartily as we place the food in her cute inspired old Southwestern-inspired dishware. Lexi had been itching to use it since she purchased it at Value Village. When she discovered I was cooking tonight, she flung out all her home decor to make this night memorable not just for Max but also for me, since she knows how much I like eating together as friends... like family.

"How is Max today?" I glance at her and turn off the burner that's cooking the chorizoqueso.

"She'll be alright. She is tough." Lexi sighs, opening the refrigerator to grab something.

"Is she hungry?"

"With the house smelling like this, she is a fool not to be." Lexi snickers, holding a guava Jarrito in her hand.

"I'll go get her," I quietly say, but turn quickly on my heels when I hear a crunch.

"Lexi... wait for Max. Dinner as a family! " I narrow my eyes at where Lexi takes a playful dip in the hot chorizoqueso. Consequently, she winces her face because I know she's burning her mouth.

"Seee," I tease, and she rolls her eyes.

I giggle and walk out of the kitchen. I shake my head when I hear another crunch.

She is worse than Papà.

I make my way down the hall and knock on Max's door. Pressing my ear to the door, I lean close to listen to her mumbling but can't make out what she's saying. I take a deep breath sharply and open the door to the smell of the girl who is burning sage to keep the evil spirits away.

Max's hair sprawls all over her black silk pillowcases. She is tucked under the black silky covers with her elbows folded over the top. Her room is grey accented with feminine black decor. She's holding a tiny photo and thumbing it.

The only person to give her life.

"Max?" I shut the door softly.

She sniffles, tucks the photo in her pillowcase, and leans up to rub her exhausted reddened eyes.

It was quiet in her room other than her new choice Classical playing in the background. I take baby steps towards her, calculating the words I want to say and not having them coming out in Spanish.

"Max?" I repeat myself as I stand at the edge of the bed.

I chew on my lip, contemplating what my next move is. With her face buried in her pillows, she looks like she needs a hug. My short legs climb onto the bed and I cage my tiny arms around Maxine's body as she lays on her stomach. My long hair, even pulled back in a ponytail, falls forward onto her silky sheets as I lean down, kiss the top of her head, and rest my head down on hers.

Her body warms up to my affection and she shifts her body under me. By the time she turns her pinkish eyes are still welled up from crying. Dryness cracks her pale lips and her normally bright green eyes look dull and sunken in.

I frown to see her broken. She must really liked Marcus.

My throat dries up, realizing I'm entirely straddled on top of her. Maxine bounces under me as laughs softly because my cheeks heat from the position.

She's probably enjoying this.

"Are you hungry?" I squeak out nervously.

"How on earth are you still single?" Max jokes, pinching my cheeks with her sharp nails.

"I, I don't know... Wilmer Valderrama hasn't called me," I giggle.

She chuckles, adjusts herself in her bed, and makes our foreheads touch on purpose. She plants a kiss on my forehead, then lands a smack right on my right butt cheek.

With a squeak,I swing my legs off quickly and sit beside her so fast she laughs at me for being so squeamish. I notice she's wearing a long, olive-green Nike shirt that is definitely not hers.

She hates green.

I arch my eyebrow as I survey her wearing the shirt.

She gruffed, folding her arms. "It's not what you think."

"What do you want me to think?" I use an open-ended question like the nurse that I am.

"I don't know," Max quietly whispers.

She looks away shamelessly and quickly wipes a tear from her face. She combs her fingers through her long hair, and some it wipes in my face.

"It's okay to not be okay." I place a hand on her shoulder.

She takes a sharp breath and looks up at the ceiling.

"I hate the fact I want to sleep in his stupid T-shirts and want lay on his stupid big chest listening to his heartless heartbeat," Max spits out while roughly wiping a tear from her eyes.

"You don't have to be ashamed to admit that Maxine."

Maxine wipes another tear from her eyes. "Every day, I fell bit by bit for him by the stupid shit he would pull. He got me." She sighs in disbelief as she fists her hair.

"Max-"

She lets a sigh of regret, and my heart aches.

"Over break and the last couple of weeks, I thought maybe he was different." She draws in a shaky breath. "Different than Chris, but I was wrong."

Chris..... and bad bad bad old man who deserves to be in jail.

"I'm so stupid ," she says again, putting her palms to her face. Her body trembles as she sobs once again. The room falls silent, and I pull her into a hug. As if she's totally defeated, her body hangs limp.

"I didn't want him to be the last person I thought about before bed," she admits into my shoulder. "I thought he wasn't like Chris,"

Her back pitches as she softly weeps. I take in her words as she shook her head in disbelief.

"He definitely isn't Chris," I remind her and rub my hand over her hair.

"Every guy is like Chris," she whispers.

I move my hand down, rub her back, and she whimpers. "I didn't know you liked him like that," I softly say

She leans up from my shoulder and looks at me with a scowl on her face, disturbed by what I said. I bite my lower lip and glance down.

"I thought he was my friend, but he proved me wrong." Max sighs disappointingly.

At her rare show of softness, I have to ask, "Can you tell me more?"

She hesitantly looks at me while holding her arms together. "It's not even worth crying over, Lizzie."

I touch her hand delicately, "But your heart matters, Maxine."

She gives a bitter laugh and quivers her lips. "If it did, he would have tried harder."

Haven't I heard that before.

I frown as she slams her head on my shoulder, crying more until a damp spot soaks into my sleeve. "I'm sorry Max," I softly say

Warmth vibrates into my shoulder as she murmurs, "Why does this always happen to me?"

I didn't have the answer. Maxine's heart is as loyal as a golden lab, beneath her sharp tongue as biting as a Rottweiler and tenacity level of a Doberman. Dryness coats my throat as I swallow hard against the helplessness that rises up inside me the longer we sit silent.

"Max, I can't say the right things because I've never been in your situation, but I know whoever the special guy is, even if it's Wilmer. You will be treated like royalty."

"Ugh," she grunts into the side of my neck. "Can I have you instead?"

"No." I pat her on the head. "But you can have some of my cooking."

She squeezes me tightly like I would squeeze Conor.

Maybe I shouldn't hug him this tight. I can barely breathe.

Maxine pulls back, gazing at me with a half-lopsided grin, but sadness clouds her forrest-green eyes.

"I hate him!" Max roughly takes the black comforter off her body and flings it aside.

She walks over to her body mirror, grunts, then throws off the green shirt. My lips part in a silent gasp when she exposes her bare, pale-skinned, athletic body.

I shield my eyes to give her privacy while changing.

"To think, I did the pretzel dip for him," she grumbles.

"Que?" I arch my brow.

"Nothing," she mumbles, shaking her head. "Ugh, and his stupid asshole smile. I just want punch his teeth in,"

I watch as she continues to rant, almost sounding like she's really raving about how hot he is.

She is in denial.

I look over to her but quickly shut my eyes because she's still naked while roughly looking in her dresser drawer to find something to wear.

"Well, what did you like about him?" I say with my eyes closed but peek to see she finally puts on clothes.

"Nothing. He is a two-timing dog," she says with a sour voice, like she has distaste in her mouth.

"Do you really think he likes Faith?" I get off her bed and she folds her arms.

"I don't know. Fuck boys don't have feelings." Her eyes dart away from me, and I crinkle my nose.

"Even though he shouldn't have said those things, the least you could do is talk with him,to know what he was thinking at the moment."

"He is an ass and only thinks for himself." She looks as if I had four heads as she puts her hair up in a messy bun.

"But he sent you that card." I whisper.

"All those words didn't mean anything if he could quickly rebound with a cheerleader." Max tutts.

My eyes drop under her wide-eyed gaze. "You've been so happy, Max, when you were with him," I explain shyly.

"We were having sex of course I was happy." Max deflects.

I groan, "call it what you want, you like him." My lips curve up but drop when her green eyes sparkle in 'im about to kick you out look'

Max shrugs,"Lizzie not everything is Disney fairytales."

"But yours could be." I beam brightly.

"If you weren't so cute and I couldn't smell anything, I would have thrown you out by now. Come, let's eat." Maxine clears her throat.

When I twist her bedroom door knob open, her hand comes into contact with my conga drum, causing me to spring into the air.

"Max!" I yelp.

Max belly laughs and drapes her arm over my shoulders roughly. We come out to the living room, where Lexi is looking at her phone with a beaming smile on her face. She makes a cute pout and puckers her lips without realizing we are observing her.

I raise an eyebrow since while Max has been down, Lexi has been extremely perky since last Friday night. Max waltzes over and leans down to see what she was up to, her mouth dropping wide.

"ALEXIS LANISE!" Maxine gasps.

Lexi rolls her eyes. I walk over to peek to see but the photo disappears from Snapchat.

"He's Hot," Lexi replies so innocently as she takes a sip of her Jarrito.

Lexi's face corners of her mouth turn up in a sneaky way when another snap appears by a username NYULoverBoy.

"Absolutely not! No more athletes! especially that corny rookie, uh uh no more athletes in this household," Max rants.

Lexi and I nod involuntarily as Max continues about how she will date a scientist who actually has a brain and big penis because quiet guys have big penises and are secretly freaks in the bedroom. Max rages about guys are poop while Lexi and I stare at the shirtless Hollis gym mirror selfie posts on Instagram.

He wears a cheesy grin on his face, but my eyes are on the boy's muscles. Between his chest and abs, they are stacked and glisten with sweat. The other photo has my body ignite when he has a photo of Marcus, Him and Jaylan shirtless pointing at the big body mirror with hashtag Gang.

I touch the corner of my mouth and Lexi exits out with a sharp exhale. Max rushes over to see and groans at the photo.

"No more talking brainless small dicks," Max huffs and plots herself on the chair.

I snicker because she's starting to slowly come out of her shell. "I should make both you pay me every time you use the word penis in the wrong way."

"Oh, you about to be rich, rich!" Lexi laughs and looks at Max.

"I know." I grin widely.

"One of these days, Lizzie," Max warns and shakes her head. "You'll be as obsessed with dick as we are."

While I try to bleach out that word from my brain, Maxine's eyes catch sight of the chorizoqueso and soften at me.

"You better thank Lizzie; I would let her ass starve." Lexi begins to fix her plate.

"Lizzie, if you wanted to date why didn't you just say so," Max snickers, eyeing the chorizoqueso and licks her lips.

I giggle and shake my head, handing her a transparent blue plate. We pass the food around to each other, collectively filling it up. I didn't realize how much food I made until I notice there were still leftovers. I guess I wasn't paying attention when I laughed at Mamá shouting at Mateo about dinner being ready.

I swat Maxine's hand lightly as she's prepared to devour her taco. "Nosotros debemos orar primero" (We must first pray)." I wag my finger at her, and she daggers her eyes at me like a lion furious about not consuming its prey.

Lexi giggles as we hold one other's hands. I bow my head, and they follow. "Thank you, God, for this evening and the meal we are going to be eating.  Bless us and strengthen us for the next week. In the name of Jesus Amen, I pray." I kindly remark.

"Amen," they mumble while stuffing their mouths with food.

I look up to see them with soft eyes with chipmunk cheeks, similar to how Tio Victor and Mateo look like when Papa would say long prayers.

My family. I giggle at them as they continue to chew their food like they haven't eaten all month. "Alexa play, Celia Cruz."

"I'm sorry I didn't get that."

Lexi and Max crack up because she never understands my accent.

"Alexa, play Celia Cruz!" I groan sharply.

"I'm sorry I didn't get that."

My hand squeezes around my fork and I grunt loudly, "ALEXA, PLAY CELIA CRUZ!"

"Now streaming a playlist of Celia Cruz," the demon device responds politely.

Todo aquel que piense que la vida es desigual, Tene que saber que no es así, Que la vida es una hermosura, hay que vivirla

I bob my head while eating my tacos, letting the softened carne asada, cooked onions, and slight crunch of cilantro slide down so smoothly.

It's nothing like Mamá's, but it will do.

"Lizzie, thank you." Max gives me a lopsided grin. I smile at her observing her trying to stuff down her sadness.

"Remember Max, tacos before bros." I lick my finger that drips with salsa verde.

"You got that right, Lizzie," Lexi points at me and takes another bite of her taco. I swear her eyes flutter closed as she moans into the shell.

"So, are you excited about your tutoring job tomorrow?" Max dips her tortilla chip into the chorizoqueso.

"Sorta," I sheepishly say as I reach for the bowl that had Carne Asada.

"What time do I need to pick you up?" Max says with a mouthful of food.

"Umm, I have two appointments, and the last one is at six," I reply, biting my taco.

"Okay, secure your bag, Lizzie." Lexi hoots.

I laugh and look down at my plate. "Thanks." I bit my lip.

Maxine moans as she eats her food, triggering my memory of her steamy telenovela episode with Marcus. "So good, Lizzie."

I shudder and crinkle my nose.

I don't think I'll ever get over that.

I was pleased to see Max smile rather than mourn, even though crying heals the heart. We joked and ate while sipping Lexi's odd Margarita concoction, which she had hastily manufactured in the kitchen. Lexi's hilarious recollection of last Friday night had us in tears.

Perhaps it was the excessive amount of tequila that made it more amusing.

"I believe Lizzie should plan the next outing." Lexi laughs and takes a drink from her margarita.

"Jesus Christ, Lexi, what did you put in this?" Max coughs and squints her eyes.

"She put-"

I'm interrupted by my phone dinging in the kitchen. I excuse myself and walk-in to see it light up glowing in the dark kitchen. I check my notifications to see if it's Mama, but it's actually an email from Ms. Nusbaumat the Academic Center.

When I open my email, my brows furrow downward.

From: [email protected]

To: ELucero＠umd.edu

Elizabeth,

Thank you so much for joining the Student Academic Center this semester! We appreciate your zeal for science during your interview. However, there were no bids for tutoring for tomorrow.

With that being said, there is an opening tomorrow for Math. A student needs help with Statistics. By looking at your grades, you received an A for the semester with Professor Stencil. Professor Stencil praised your performance after retaking the course last term and you for being such a diligent, hard worker.

I know you will be a great candidate for this student! Please email me back this evening to let the student know you can help.

Best Regards,

Marsha Nusbaum

I can't believe I'm saying this but what the actual fu-

Edited by: still_just_me