Chapter Twenty-Three
Later that evening, I help Laurel move her bed up against mine.
She grabs her iPad and props it up against a pillow. “What do you want to watch?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. I actually want to watch The Emperor’s New Groove, but Laurel stopped wanting to watch Disney movies a couple of years ago.
“Sophie told me about a cheerleading docuseries on YouTube.” Laurel taps into the app. “If you don’t care what we watch, maybe we could start that?”
Not knowing and not caring are two different things, but Laurel’s already clicked on the first episode.
We watch interviews with high school freshmen and sophomores hoping to make their school’s junior varsity team. It’s not the most interesting thing ever, but Laurel’s eyes stay fixed on the screen as the cheerleading hopefuls move on to tryouts in the second episode.
“This is nice,” I say as the video switches from interviews to a montage of tumbling passes. “I feel so much calmer now.”
“Awesome.” Laurel throws a smile my way. “It’s definitely quieter than at La Rambla.”
Laurel’s gaze returns to the screen, and I pull out my phone to a mountain of notifications. I forgot I’d silenced it earlier.
Andy (he/him)
Hope you had fun today, Ellen!
Isa (they/them)
The castellers were amazing.
Gibs (a dude)
Still super bummed they didn’t take volunteers.
I would’ve made a great addition to the human tower
Isa (they/them)
You would’ve died
Isa (they/them)
Here’s what it looked like, Ellen!
I click the photo they sent. Over a dozen people stand on the ground in a circle. They all wear white pants with black sashes around their waists. Each person holds the ankles of another performer, standing on their shoulders. The castell narrows the higher I look, until there’s just one person at the top.
Andy (he/him)
We also talked about where we want to go after we figure out the third clue.
Gibs (a dude)
Park with the 
!
Isa (they/them)
But only if that’s okay with you, Ellen
There are other texts, but I reply to Isa’s first.
Ellen
That’s fine with me. Also, I looked it up and El Drac means “The Dragon” in Catalan.
Isa responds immediately.
Isa (they/them)
Might need to rethink some things, Gibs!
Gibs (a dude)
DRAGONS ARE JUST BIG LIZARDS
I laugh and Laurel looks over at me.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I say. “My team’s just being silly.”
“Ah.” She glances back at her iPad. The squad’s been chosen now, and they’re gearing up for their first event. “So, you’re having fun with them and getting through the clues okay?”
Two questions in one, but both have the same answer, which makes things simpler. “Yes.”
I glance at my phone again and notice Andy’s added pronouns next to his name. Same for Gibs, in his own way. I tap into my profile and update my display name.
“That’s nice.” Laurel sighs.
I’m about to ask her what’s wrong when my phone buzzes again.
Isa (they/them)
Anyway… are we hanging out in the garden tonight?
Gibs (a dude)
lolnope zzz
Andy (he/him)
I’m down. Same time as usual?
I look from my phone to Laurel, then back again.
I can’t tonight. I’m hanging out with Laurel.
Isa (they/them)
That’s cool. There’s always tomorrow!
Gibs (a dude)
“Okay, I think I need a break.” Laurel pauses the video after the homecoming football game episode. “How do you feel about makeovers?”
“Like in general?”
“I mean for us.” She makes the mattress bounce. “Tonight.”
Laurel should know I’m not interested. But something seemed wrong earlier, so I offer a compromise.
“Not for me. But we can do your hair and makeup together.”
“That works!” Laurel hops up. “I want to see what looks best with my new dress.”
I follow her to the bathroom.
“Plus, you’re so honest, you can give me your opinion,” she says. “That’ll help a ton.”
A flash of guilt. I definitely wasn’t honest about asking Abba to switch teams. After today with Meritxell, I’m not even sure being honest all the time is a good thing.
Laurel flips on the bathroom light and empties her makeup bag. “I usually like pastels, but I don’t think they’ll look right with my new dress. Actually, hold that thought. I’ll go put it on!”
As she scampers back into the bedroom, I scan the counter. Blush. Eye shadow. Mascara. Four different colors of lip gloss. I organize them alphabetically on the counter: cheeks, eyelids, lashes, mouth.
Laurel opens the door wider and twirls. “What do you think?”
“It’s very purple.”
“So purple. I adore it.” She grins.
“Is someone in there?” Sophie-Anne calls from the other room.
“Yes, but you can come in!” Laurel calls back.
The door swings open.
“Oh my actual gosh, Laurel,” Sophie-Anne says, “that dress!”
Laurel looks down, then lifts the skirt. “You think?”
“So. Cute.”
It’s like they’re speaking a different language in half sentences.
Madison appears in the doorway. “FYI: perfect shade.”
Laurel beams. “We were just going to see what makeup and hair works best with it.”
“I want to help!” Sophie-Anne claps, and I take a step back, bumping into the towel hanger. “We should all try on our dresses and give ourselves makeovers.”
“We totally should,” Laurel says.
“Be right back!” Sophie-Anne takes off with Madison.
“That’s okay, right, Elle?” Laurel looks at me.
The smile hasn’t left her face since the other girls arrived.
I make myself nod.
So much for being honest.
Half an hour later, all three girls are in full makeup. They’ve straightened their hair with Sophie-Anne’s hot iron, then pulled it up with ties and clips.
“We really should do Ellen, too,” Sophie-Anne says.
“What do you think, Elle?” Laurel asks. “Just a little makeup?”
“No, thanks.”
“Would you do it for Meritxell?”
I stare at Madison.
“You said she was cute,” Madison says. Out of the corner of my eye, Laurel reaches for her necklace. “We wear makeup for boys, so it’d probably also work for girls.”
“I… um.” I try to imagine myself in makeup, talking to Meritxell, but come up blank. “Okay?”
“Okay.” Madison turns to Sophie-Anne. “Is your hot iron still plugged in?”
“Wait,” I stammer. “I don’t want—”
But Sophie-Anne is already up. She grabs a brush, while Laurel sorts through eye shadow.
Madison crosses her arms over her Thrash ’em! tank top and studies me. She turns for just long enough to grab a jar of foundation off the counter.
“This tone should work.” She dabs a drop of beige liquid onto the side of her hand. “Tuck your hair behind your ears.”
I give up and grab some clips off the counter. When my hair is pinned back from my cheeks and forehead, Madison selects a makeup brush. She leans in and begins to smooth foundation over my face. It feels strange and heavy, like a layer of paint.
“Elle,” Laurel says. “Don’t wrinkle your nose.”
“But it feels weird.”
“You’ll get used to it in a second.” Madison continues her work. “Now the blush, Sophie.”
Blush, at least, is quick, and doesn’t feel as thick on my skin. Same for eye shadow.
Then comes the liquid eyeliner.
“Look up,” Madison instructs.
I tilt my head toward the ceiling.
“Just your eyes.”
I jerk my head back down, fingers thrumming against my leg.
Madison sighs, and Laurel steps into view.
“Your head is shaking when you do that.” Laurel splays her fingers in the air. “Madison just wants to make the lines even.”
“I’m sorry.”
Also nervous. The more Madison touches my face, the more I wish I could escape the bathroom. The words I use are one of the things Dr. Talia says I can control, but I keep my thoughts to myself.
Except the longer I force my body to stay still, the antsier I feel.
I focus on the ceiling as Madison draws a cold line across my bottom eyelid.
“Okay, Sophie.” Madison steps back. “Hair time.”
Sophie-Anne removes one of the clips in my hair, then lifts her brush.
She hits a snarl, and I wince.
“Sorry! Your hair’s just so curly.”
She goes through the strands slowly, carefully, but it still hurts.
Then, a hot hiss against my temple. Surprised, I jerk a little.
“Careful,” Sophie-Anne says. “I don’t want to burn you.”
I close my eyes. As Sophie-Anne continues her work, Madison compares cosmetics brands, explaining why one is clearly superior to the others. I tune her out and try to think of Meritxell. She’s who I’m supposed to be doing this for.
But every time I try to imagine her, I see Isa instead. Isa telling me I’m brave. Isa grinning when I say something they think is funny.
“All done!”
Sophie-Anne steps back. Slowly, I open my eyes.
“You look amazing,” Laurel says.
“Like at least a year older.” Madison nods.
I stare at myself under the harsh bathroom lights. I look like myself, but also different. My eyes seem bigger, shimmering with bronze eye shadow. My cheeks are pink and rosy, freckles completely hidden.
And my hair. At its longest in curls, it never falls below my chin. Now, it swishes against the top of my shoulders, completely straight. I tuck a strand behind my ear and it stays in place.
“Now people will notice you,” Madison says. “Boys and girls.”
I wonder if the same goes for nonbinary people, then push the thought away, hoping the makeup will conceal my flushed cheeks.
“So,” Madison says. “Now that that’s done, what should we do next?”
“Ellen and I started watching that cheerleading series you told us about,” Laurel says.
I wait for her to explain we were also having a sleepover, just the two of us.
But Laurel swings the door to our room open wider. “Did y’all want to hang out in our room? We moved our beds together so there’s plenty of space.”
My body goes cold. Before I can say a word, Sophie-Anne skips into our room.
“Ooooh, I love that show!” She drops onto our combined beds. “Have you gotten to the state champs episode yet?”
We settle in. As the other girls watch the next episode, I look around at each of them. Study their hair that’s perfectly straight. Their makeup that looks natural because they wear it on a daily basis. The way they finish each other’s sentences.
They belong to a world I’m part of, but not.
Their words.
Expressions.
Body language.
I pick at the hem of my shorts, eyeing their dresses that pool around them on the bed. If clothes don’t make you a boy or a girl, what does? Hair? Makeup? And how do you know if you’re nonbinary?
Isa is so sure of themself, so confident. Then there’s me, who sometimes has trouble pinpointing what I’m even feeling.
The episode ends. Madison pauses the playlist before the next one begins. “I’ve seen this show a million times. Let’s watch something else.”
“We could find an old cheerleading championship,” Sophie-Anne suggests.
“Or we could watch videos about Barcelona since we still have to catch up on”—Laurel glances at Sophie-Anne and Madison—“you know, a lot.”
“Señor L isn’t going to punish us for not getting all the clues right,” Madison huffs. “I guarantee the school won’t even let him lower our grade next year.”
“I know, but he’s still going to make us present something next week.…” Laurel’s voice gets smaller with each word. “We need time to work on that, too.”
Laurel sounds how I felt right before I chickened out of reciting the second clue to Señor L. Except I wouldn’t have felt like that if my team had had Señor L to ourselves. If another group of kids hadn’t shown up and thrown me off.
“Emmaline and her team are already done,” I blurt out.
All three of them go quiet.
“They are?” Laurel asks.
“Yes.”
“Good for them,” Madison says before turning back to her friends. “While they’ve been focused on solving stuff, we’ve visited tons of places we can use for our fourth clue. It’ll be easy.”
“And maybe Ellen could help us on the others?” Sophie-Anne looks at me, brows rising.
I swallow hard. “We’re not supposed to share answers with other teams.”
“It’s not like we’d tell or anything,” Madison says.
“Yeah,” Sophie-Anne chirps. “You wouldn’t get in trouble.”
“It’d really help us out, Elle,” Laurel says. “Even just a tiny hint about the first clue. We’ve translated it, just don’t know where to visit.”
I think of all the time my team spent researching locations together. All the subway directions we mapped out. And now they just want me to give them the answer?
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Sophie-Anne tilts her head.
My jaw aches from clenching. I already answered that. “It’s. Against. The. Rules.”
The pain in my jaw spreads to my neck, arms, chest. The clock tick-tick-ticks, as the air conditioner’s hum builds to a howl.
I don’t realize I’ve started rocking until Laurel stops me.
“Calm down, Elle.”
One hand on each of my shoulders. Laurel’s touch sends a painful shock through my body. I shake her off and continue to rock.
“Maybe… we should go.”
I can’t tell if it was Sophie-Anne or Madison who spoke.
“No, stay.” Laurel reaches for my hands, but I ball them up tight. She can’t twine her fingers through mine. “It’s fine. Ellen’s fine. She just gets like this sometimes.”
My breath catches. Shame settles in my stomach like a heavy stone.
“It’s getting late anyway.” Madison slides off the bed. “Let’s go, Sophie.”
She disappears through the bathroom door.
“See you tomorrow, Laurel,” Sophie-Anne calls back to us. “Night, Ellen.”
As soon as they’re gone, my breaths come easier. My fingers relax.
I wait for the sounds to lower back to a normal volume, then look over at Laurel.
“Do you want to find some Barcelona videos?”
But Laurel clicks off her iPad. “I’m just going to get ready for bed.”
I get up and help her separate our beds. We move through our room like ghosts. If this were one of our stories, now would be the part right before our characters made up.
Except I can’t even imagine us talking right now. Maybe the two Els can be divided and separable after all.