A FEW WEEKS LATER, Alicia’s college drama had calmed down considerably. Alicia and her friends had gotten through the SATs, and while they’d all found them harder than the practice tests, they were all fairly confident that they’d done well. With the help of Mr. Stevens, Alicia had not only stood up for a whole ten seconds on her longboard, she’d also added UC Berkeley, NYU, and the University of Michigan to the list of colleges she was applying to. With their applications well under way, the girls were finally about to turn their attention back to the mystery quince. This was good, because during the last week of October, they received an e-mail from Julia Centavo:

Dear Amigas Inc.,

We are looking forward to receiving the detailed proposal for my client’s quince on November 1st, as promised. We trust that you’ve had a good semester. The young woman I work for has been very busy, but now her schedule has cleared and we hope to get biweekly check-ins from your team for her review.

Cordialmente,

Julia Centavo

It was October 30, and the three partners in Amigas Inc. were embarrassed to admit that in the rush of schoolwork, college applications, and, in Alicia’s case, surfing lessons, they had, uncharacteristically, neglected to do almost any work on Carmela Ortega’s quince. It was time to move into high gear. With this in mind, Alicia texted Carolina and Patricia Reinoso: Chicas, hope you’ve found some good potentials for us because we need help and fast!

Carolina Reinoso wrote back right away: Can you meet us at the quad after school? 3 pm?

Alicia answered: Claro, see you then.

At three P.M. sharp, Alicia, Jamie, and Carmen arrived at their favorite bench in the quad, to find that Carolina and Patricia were already there. The normally casual and relaxed Reinoso girls were both formally dressed in pin-striped pants and button-down shirts. They both looked nervous.

Jamie, never one to beat around the bush, prodded them. “Is there a problem? Because my Spidey sense is telling me something is up.”

Patricia took a deep breath and said, “We read each and every application—all two hundred sixty-seven of them. And we want to be perfectly honest: there were a few decent candidates….”

Carolina jumped in. “But we don’t think you should hire any of them. You should hire us.”

Alicia, Carmen, and Jamie were more than surprised. While they had all enjoyed the friendship that had developed with the Reinoso cousins over the past few months, they still put them in the category of fabulous former clients, like Dash’s sister, Binky Mortimer.

Jamie was immediately and categorically against the idea. “But you guys are our friends. What we’re looking for is minions—worker bees! Sophomores who will be at our beck and call! Girls whom we could easily cut loose if they don’t work out. Hiring you two is definitely not what I had in mind.” Pouting, she took a seat on the opposite bench. Then, as was her wont, she took out her iPhone and began texting Dash.

Alicia turned to Carmen and asked, “What do you think?”

Carmen thought for a moment and then turned to the younger girls. “Well, I love you both, and not just because you campaigned to have me elected queen of the winter formal last year! But part of the reason we were aiming for sophomores was that we wanted to pick people who could run the business for two years. When you graduate next year, we’ll be right back where we started.”

Carolina sighed. “We know. And that’s a totally valid point.”

Patricia turned to Jamie. “And I feel you, chica. I kind of would love to have some sophomore underlings myself.”

Carolina continued, “But as we read the applications, we couldn’t help but think that Amigas Inc. isn’t just some school club that is run out of the activities office with an interchangeable string of elected leaders. This is a serious business, and it’s a serious opportunity. Honestly, I don’t think you want minions. I think you want business partners, people who can represent both you and the cultural institution of quinceañeras. We would do that.”

Carmen tugged at Alicia’s sleeve. “So what do you think, Alicia? You’re the head chica in charge.”

Alicia paused. It was flattering, really, that girls as cool as Carolina and Patricia wanted to be part of the business. But she had questions, lots of them. “Patricia, you’re the star of the school basketball team, and Carolina, you’re a cheerleader and head of the environmental club. How will you juggle Amigas Inc. with the rest of your extracurricular activities and school?”

Carolina said, “Part of what’s so attractive to us about this opportunity is that it’s a chance for us to distinguish ourselves next fall, when we’re in your position, applying for colleges. Patricia’s got more going on than I do. She’s a talented athlete. But at the end of the day, there are hundreds of high school basketball players, cheerleaders, and school club presidents applying to college every year. How many of those students can say that they are also successful entrepreneurs?”

Alicia nodded. She loved to hear other people talk about how great the Amigas Inc. business was. She felt that, if she said it, she’d have been bragging about herself and her friends. But when someone like Carolina, or Serena Shih from Harvard, said it, that was totally different—it was indicative of how meaningful the work really was.

Patricia chimed in, “We’ve been looking for a project we can work on together. To tell you the truth, when we were growing up, we spent nearly every waking hour running in and out of each other’s houses. Then we came to high school, and it’s like we live in different worlds. But the fact is, we love our Latina heritage, we want to learn more about different cultural traditions, and working on Amigas Inc. seems like a great way to bring all of that together.”

Alicia started to speak. “Well—”

But Patricia interrupted her. “Wait, there’s more! We’d like to offer to take the lead on the mystery quince, under your supervision. And if you find us lacking, then no harm, no foul. You’ll have the whole spring semester to find some different successors.”

Carolina reached into her very stylish tote bag and took out three folders. She gave one to each of the amigas.

“What’s this?” Alicia asked.

Carolina explained. “It’s a proposal for Carmela Ortega’s quinceañera, with suggested themes, venues, colors, favors, catering, stationery options…”

Alicia flipped through the proposal. It seemed very thorough, but she was beginning to think it was awkward to discuss the pros and cons of handing the business over to Carolina and Patricia right in front of them.

She looked up at the cousins and said, “This is amazing; thank you. But I think the executive committee needs to meet—”

Jamie stopped texting and asked, “Wait a second, who’s the executive committee?”

Carmen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “She means us! You, me, and Lici.”

Jamie returned to her phone mumbling, “Oh, yeah, right.”

Alicia smiled at Carolina and Patricia. “Excuse my friend. Her boyfriend’s away at college, and it’s like she just discovered social networking. Give us a chance to meet and discuss these ideas. Carmela Ortega is a very important client, and we have to weigh all of this carefully.”

Carolina stood up and extended her hand for Alicia to shake. “Thank you for your consideration.”

Alicia resisted the urge to laugh. Even more than Patricia, it was clear that Carolina was taking the whole enterprise superseriously. Although Carolina was an A student and spearheaded the environmental club, the students of C.G. clearly saw her as the popular blond cheerleader, an identity that was not completely to her liking. Alicia understood that Carolina viewed working for Amigas Inc. as an opportunity to prove that she was more than just a pretty, perky girl. Alicia could respect that. After all, hadn’t part of what drove her to create the business been the desire to show that she was more than the sheltered daughter of two supersuccessful Miami professionals?

The amigas had barely walked away when Carolina came running after them. “One more thing,” she said, slightly out of breath. She reached into her bag and grabbed three more folders. “I know you guys need options. Here’s a list of our top twelve choices among the applicants, with our assessments of their strengths, weaknesses, and what they could offer Amigas Inc.”

Now Alicia was really impressed. A studied analysis of the competition was not something most girls would offer up. It was one thing to put together a proposal for a quince. Every girl she’d known, especially those who’d had big quinceañera celebrations, relished the idea of giving advice about someone else’s big day. In a way, it was a chance to relive the celebration, making new and different choices. Sometimes, Alicia thought the reason she got so crazily possessive about the business was that she was the only one in the group who’d never had a quinceañera.

Way back when she was fourteen, she’d made the decision to take a trip to Spain with Carmen and her family to celebrate her fifteenth birthday, rather than have a big, expensive party. At the time, she had attended literally dozens of corny quinces with girls who wore too much makeup and took the whole occasion as an excuse to get dolled up in big poufy dresses with more layers than a wedding cake. She hadn’t known back then how cool a quince could be. Ever since, as she had helped her friends and clients plan theirs, she was always a little sorry that, back when it had been time for her special day, she hadn’t thought to break with tradition, to do the kind of modern and meaningful ceremony for which Amigas Inc. was now so well known.

How did that expression go? Alicia all at once remembered—Necessity is the mother of invention. She’d invented the kind of cool, big-sister party-planning business that would have made all the difference when she herself was considering having a quinceañera. But it was too late now. What mattered was making sure that Carmela Ortega had a quince that was both memorable and meaningful, and that the partners in Amigas Inc. entrusted their business to someone—or some group of someones—who would do the business proud.