She's Got Game (4 page)

Jamie's parents had freaked, even though she'd kept insisting she wasn't scared. Still, Jamie's social-worker-in-training mother had a zero-tolerance policy when it came to kids in bad situations. If a kid was in danger, her first priority was getting them out. And that went double for her own daughter. Without even talking to Jamie about it, Zulema had pulled some strings and gotten Jamie a scholarship at Fitzgibbons Academy, a snooty boarding school in Connecticut. And when Jamie protested, Zulema and Davide had made it clear that it wasn't up for discussion. They were ordering her to go, and one day, she would thank them. It was what was “best for her.”

So off to boarding school in Connecticut Jamie Sosa went, and what followed was the most emotionally challenging experience she had had in her young life.

Six months later, Jamie's father's dad had died suddenly of a heart attack. Her parents decided to move to Miami to help take care of his wife, Cristina, and so that her father could run the family car-service business. Jamie had been terrified that she was going to have to stay at Fitzgibbons. But, as Zulema had explained, there wasn't enough money to fly her back and forth between Connecticut and Miami for holiday visits. She'd have had to be up there on her own, and that was not something Zulema could live with. She wanted her daughter close.

Jamie didn't argue. Six months had been plenty, in her opinion. She'd been a fish out of water, the target of cruel jokes from overprivileged rich girls who had no intention of welcoming a brown-skinned scholarship student from the Bronx into the fold. They had gone out of their way to ostracize her, giving her mean nicknames, kicking her out of the cafeteria, even, at one point, destroying a painting she'd been working on—something she'd been planning to show at the Parents' Weekend Art Show.

And then there were the guys—confident, slick, and used to getting whatever they wanted. It seemed that many of them made the assumption that just because she was receiving financial aid and was the school's only Latina student, she would do anything to fit in. Jamie, who had never even dated but had always been part of the popular crowd in her own school, now found herself in way over her head. She had retreated into herself, hiding away and losing the sense of independence on which she had prided herself in New York.

She hadn't hated
every
second of it. After all, it was her art teacher, Masako Utada, who'd turned her on to the hand-painted sneaker scene on eBay, fueled in large part by a huge demand in Japan. She probably never would've learned about that in the South Bronx.

But that was one good thing in a sea of bad.

She'd jumped at the chance to ditch boarding school and the daily chore of being a cultural anthropologist among the young, wealthy, and cruel.

Moving to Miami meant more than a chance to live back at home with her parents, whom she was loath to admit she had missed while she'd been away at school. The move to Coral Gables was a chance for her to reinvent herself. She was no longer Jamie Sosa, shy and slightly awkward scholarship kid at the Big Fancy Boarding School. She was Jamie Sosa, cooler-than-you babe from the Bronx.

But, while it had worked and Jamie loved her new life, moments like this—heart-to-heart talks with her mother and run-ins with people like Binky, who so clearly reminded her of the past—were still harder to get through than she liked to admit. She could only hope that taking on this
quinceañera
wasn't going to send her running for the shadows again.

THE NEXT
afternoon, Binky arrived at Alicia's house ready to hammer out the details of her
quince
. Everyone was there except Gaz, who was once again working.

“So, as we mentioned yesterday, the most important thing we need to do is come up with a theme for your
quince
,” Alicia explained when they had all made themselves comfortable in the Florida room.

“Exactly,” Carmen agreed. “As we said, the theme will dictate everything, from the decorations to your dress—which I needed to design and start making
yesterday
.”

“Well, then, let's get started, because my motto is ‘go big or go home'!” Binky said. “After y'all left, I thought a lot about it. Did you know I'm a junior member of the Daughters of the American Revolution?”

She was met with blank looks.

“Forgive my ignorance,” Alicia said, stifling a giggle, “but what are the Daughters of the American Revolution? Is it a voter's drive, like MTV's Choose or Lose?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. It's so cool,” Binky said.

“I doubt it,” Jamie muttered.

If Binky heard Jamie's snarky aside, she didn't let it show. Beaming, she explained, “The Daughters of the American Revolution is a volunteer organization made up of women who are descended from the first families in America.”

“You mean the Native Americans?” Jamie asked, feigning sweetness.

“No, I mean the first families who came over from Britain,” Binky said, struggling to remain cheerful, even though Jamie's mockery was getting to her.

“Right, the ones who brought over the epidemics that wiped out entire tribes; got it,” Jamie said, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

“Let her finish!” Alicia said.

“Finish, finish!” Jamie said as she walked out of the room. “I find Binky's ancestors' role in the annihilation of an entire people nothing short of fascinating.”

When she was out of the earshot, Binky looked at Carmen and Alicia, a confused expression on her face. “Why does she hate me so much?” she asked.

“She doesn't hate you,” Carmen said.

“Wealth makes her uncomfortable,” Alicia explained. “Believe me, I know from experience. But once you're down with her, you will not find a more loyal friend than Jamie.”

Jamie reentered the Florida room with a tray of empanadas and some bottles of Jarritos. “Maribelle, the Cruz family cook, sent these,” she told Binky. “Please continue. I won't interrupt.”

Binky took a deep breath. “As I was saying, I was thinking about going with a colonial theme. I could wear a powdered wig and a gown with satin and ruffles, and then I could descend from a full-scale replica of the
Mayflower
.”

Alicia and Carmen made concerted efforts not to crack up.

“It's certainly a unique idea,” Carmen said.

“But there are, um, some logistical challenges,” Alicia added diplomatically.

Binky looked at Jamie. “Don't tell me you don't have an opinion?”

Jamie shrugged. “If you don't have anything nice to say…”

“Come on,” Binky pleaded. “I hired you guys to plan my
quinceañera
because everyone says you're the best. I want my
quince
to rock. So if you think the idea sucks, just tell me.”

“Okay, I don't love it,” Alicia said.

“It's a little old-fashioned,” Carmen added.

“It sucks,” Jamie said, flat out.

“That's better. Thank you for your honesty.” Binky smiled. “So, if my colonial history isn't going to cut it, what
do
you think I should do?”

“Well,” Jamie said. “You live on that incredible island. You could have a Bali-themed island-paradise
quince
. Maybe we could turn your cabanas into gilded temples, and your dress could be inspired by an Indonesian goddess.”

Binky clapped her hands and, for a moment, looked like a little girl in a candy shop. “I love it!”

Alicia pantomimed tipping her hat at Jamie. “Nice one, my friend.”

Carmen looked thoughtful. “I don't know,” she said slowly. “The whole Indonesian goddess thing seems over the top. We want to focus on Binky's Latina heritage, not just the fact that she's got beaucoup bucks. After all, that is what you said, right, Binky? That you want to get in touch with your roots?”

Binky nodded. “I do. My mother's family came from a small island off the mainland of Venezuela. I'd love somehow to give a nod to her.”

“So, what about ‘Princess of the Tides'?” Carmen suggested. “It brings the island theme in, with the idea of a journey across water to arrive at your destination.”

Binky nodded again. “I
do
want this to be meaningful. Princess of the Tides is
perfect
.”

Jamie didn't look displeased by the idea. “You've got those boats; work that, too. Pick everyone up at Biscayne Bay in your yacht, ride 'em around for an hour, then have the actual party back at your pool.”

“But what about the church ceremony?” Carmen asked. “I'm sure Binky's mom wouldn't have wanted her to just throw a big party to celebrate her heritage. The spiritual element is part of what makes a
quince
something special. It's not just a Latina version of
My Super Sweet 16
.”

Binky smiled. “Love that show, but you're right. I want to get all the traditional
quince
stuff in, too, in honor of my mom and because that's how Estrella said I should do it. It's my coming into womanhood, so I want to do it right. Could I have people meet me at the church, then be bused to the yacht, then ferried over to the island?”

“That's a lot of juggling. Means a lot of cooperation from everyone. How does the rest of your family feel about your having a
quince
?” Jamie asked. “I'm sure it's not anything the Mortimer family has seen before.”

Binky smiled. “Well, actually, everyone's getting into it. Dash has been to a few
quinces
, and I think he's a little jealous that there wasn't a guy-equivalent so he could bust out his flawless Spanish and impress everybody. Bev, my stepmother, is excited, but she wanted me to have the events coordinator at the country club organize it. She doesn't care what I call my fifteenth birthday as long as it's swank enough to impress her friends. And my dad, he doesn't say much about anything. He's a little bit of the strong-and-silent type.”

Just then, Gaz entered the room, fresh from his shift at the Gap. His dark, curly hair, beautiful brown eyes, and lips that seemed always to be on the verge of forming a slightly wicked smile all brightened the room. “Did somebody call for the strong-and-silent type?”

Alicia got up and gave him a kiss. “So conceited! We weren't talking about you. I was beginning to wonder if you'd skipped town on me.”

“Never,” Gaz said. “You know the deal, I'm just the hardest-working guy in Coral Gables right now. Tough to do that and be a good boyfriend, too.”

“You're always a good boyfriend,” Alicia said, squeezing his hand. She turned to Binky. “Binky Mortimer, this is my boyfriend, Gaz. He's also a member of Amigas Inc. and in charge of music for the
quinceañera
. You'll be talking to him a lot as we get closer to the event.”

“Nice to meet you,” Binky said politely.

“Mucho gusto,”
Gaz said, shaking Binky's hand. Then he nodded at Jamie and Carmen. “What up,
chicas
? Is there anything to eat in the kitchen? I'm starving.”

“Of course. Help yourself, but hurry back; we need you,” Alicia said.

The girls were silent for a moment, staring down at the clipboards in their hands. These had been presents and were engraved with the words amigas inc. They came in handy at moments like this, when the girls needed to jot ideas down. Having the company name on the clipboards made them all feel extra professional.

“I don't know,” Alicia said, breaking the silence and getting back to the topic at hand. “I just think that if you start at the church, then have people take a bus to the boat and then a boat to the island, it feels a little like too much is going on.”

“Yeah,” Binky said, nodding her head in agreement. “I don't want people so exhausted by the time they get to the island that they're too pooped to party.”

“What if the entire party took place on the yacht?” Jamie suggested. “People get married at sea; couldn't we do Binky's ceremony
on
the boat?”

“We'd have to talk to her priest,” Carmen said.

Binky fluttered her eyelids dramatically. “You mean, my very good-looking, very young priest. That shouldn't be a problem.”

“You're kidding, right?” Alicia asked.

“
Not
kidding. He looks like Chace Crawford,” Binky said. “I have proof. His name is Padre Alfonso. Some of the parishioners have even built a little fan site about him.” Taking out her smartphone, Binky pulled up the site. She passed the phone around. “Ladies, meet Padre Alfonso.”

The girls crowded around, mesmerized by the photos of the
Gossip Girl–
worthy priest, including one somewhat unpriestly photo of him in a pair of yellow swimming trunks.

“What's up with the swimsuit calendar shot?” Jamie asked.

“Catholic church retreat,” Binky said. “Isn't he dreamy?”

“You know, I really think I need to talk to my parents about switching churches,” Alicia said.

“Not me.” Carmen shook her head. “Can you imagine going to confession with a guy who was so good-looking? It's a tiny little box; I'd be so nervous I'd probably develop a stuttering problem.”

“I'd be too tempted to lie,” Jamie said. “I couldn't confess anything about making out with boys to a guy who looked like that.”

Binky raised an eyebrow. “At our church, we have exactly that problem. So many women were going into confession with wild stories that couldn't possibly be true that they had to take Padre Alfonso off confession duty!”

“Unbelievable,” Alicia said, her eyes wide.

“That's bananas,” Carmen laughed.

“Maybe giving your church such an eye-candyish priest is God's way of saying, ‘Get your butt here every Sunday,'” Jamie said, smiling.

Binky placed her hand over her heart. “Well, I haven't missed a Sunday this year, so it must be working!”

Just then, Alicia looked at her watch and let out a little gasp. “While I personally could talk about the sin-inspiring hottie priest all day, we've got exactly four weeks and five days to pull off the
quinceañera
of the year. We've got to focus. We have a theme. And I'll go ahead and make an appointment with Padre Hottie—I mean, Padre Alfonso—to see if he would be willing to do Binky's
quince
ceremony on the yacht.” She wrote something on her clipboard.

“Way to take one for the team,” Jamie said, winking at her friend.

Gaz came back to the room and stood in the door. “Are you still talking about your crush on the priest? Because I'd really like to join the meeting.”

“We're done,” Jamie said, waving him in. “Join us.”

She quickly filled Gaz in on the Princess of Tides theme.

“We've never done a
quince
on a boat,” Gaz said. “That sounds pretty sweet. Do you know yet whether you want a DJ or live music?”

“We recommend live,” Alicia chimed in.

“Live music, definitely,” Binky agreed.

Gaz handed her a CD. “This is my band's music. Listen and see what you think. If it's totally not your thing, we can hire another group or look into the DJ option. It's your big day, so we want to do what will make you happy.”

“Trust me, Binky. Gaz's band is straight off the hook. He's one of the hottest up-and-coming indie musicians in the Miami area. You and your friends are going to go nuts when you hear his music. He's that good,” boasted Alicia.

Gaz rolled his eyes as Binky laughed good-naturedly. “And, of course, you're not prejudiced or anything, right?”

“Me? Never,” replied Alicia, feigning shock at the thought. “Okay, moving on. Logistics,” she continued. They had the venue—hopefully—and the priest—double-hopefully—but that was just the start. “How many people can you fit on the
Santa Maria
?”

“Oh, we wouldn't have it on the
Santa Maria
. She's not a yacht, she's just the ferryboat,” Binky said. “The big boat is the
Uptick
. My dad had a company retreat on it last year, and I think they said that the capacity was two hundred fifty. That's plenty; I wasn't planning on inviting more than that.”

“Great,” Alicia said. “Well, you talk to your father about the
quince
and make sure he signs off on using the boat, and let's find out out what kind of restrictions they might have about safety, medical care, catering, and having minors on board.”