“UGH,” CARMEN groaned as she slid into the restaurant booth next to Jamie later that afternoon. “So, you’ll never guess what Ms. Ingber has done. She’s turned me into a SoBee. She strongarmed me into working with them on the planning committee for winter formal. Might as well shoot me now.”

After her meeting, Carmen had hightailed it to Lario’s to join Jamie and Alicia for a much-needed rant. Lario’s was their new after-school hangout. Located on Ocean Drive, it was just steps away from the sand. Since Carmen and Domingo’s breakup, they had been studiously avoiding their old favorite, Bongos. It was where he and Carmen had originally met. The place was filled with too many memories for Carmen, so the girls had unanimously decided to take up residence in a new spot.

“She hates me,” Carmen moaned to Jamie after their waitress had taken their orders and walked away.

Jamie took a sip of her agua fresca and shook her head. “If she hated you, she wouldn’t have suggested you for the committee. As irritating as the SoBees may be, she’s right; it’s a big deal for a junior to get that job—maybe a first—and it will look good on your college record. Which reminds me, I need to move into high gear on my extracurriculars. Plus, I have no idea who I’m going to get to write my recs next year. I may end up turning to you guys.”

Carmen rolled her eyes and helped herself to a hearty serving of guacamole, salsa, and chips. “Maybe I’ll get to design some scenery or paint a few signs or—hello, fun!—operate the snow machine. But I guess you’re right. It can’t hurt to have a teacher on my side. Maybe, if this all goes well, I can ask Ms. Ingber to write a recommendation for me to the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York,” she said, trying to be positive. Her smile widened as the waitress put a plate of crispy, hot yucca fries in front of her.

Alicia, who had just walked in, nodded. “FIT would be crazy not to take you.” She paused, as if uncertain whether to go on. Then she rushed ahead. “I might be out of line, but I’ve been thinking, maybe you should broaden your scope a little. Think about going to a liberal arts college rather than a school that specializes in fashion. So you can get a broader education, you know? The other day I read this article in Vogue about a girl who totally reminded me of you.”

“Was she a half-Jewish, half-Catholic Latina of Argentinean descent, with five siblings?” Carmen asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alicia playfully threw a ketchup packet across the table. “No, silly. She started out studying costume design at some college in Los Angeles. She worked for a while in the wardrobe department at a movie studio and then decided that she wanted to apply her sewing skills to something completely new. She teamed up with a business partner and started a nonprofit that focuses on teaching inner-city girls how to sew and market their own clothing designs through national co-ops. But to do that, she had to go back to school, as her degree hadn’t really prepared her.”

Carmen looked interested, “Wow, that does sound pretty cool. Me encanta the idea of helping out other young women.”

Jamie sipped at her virgin piña colada and adjusted the chunky silver chain necklace that she was wearing. “Alicia’s right,” she said, nodding. “And if you are set on New York, there are way more schools than FIT. And way more everything that’s cooler than anywhere else on the planet. You could go to NYU or Columbia or Pratt Institute; you could intern in the wardrobe department of a Broadway show, or you could work for a big fashion label.”

Carmen looked back and forth between her two friends. She hadn’t expected to hear this coming from them. “Those are all good ideas. And a good rec would go a long way toward giving me more options, I guess. So you guys think I should go ahead and work on this winter formal like Ms. Ingber asked?”

“We’re professional quince planners,” Alicia pointed out. “Planning this will be mad simple compared to most of the things we’re called on to do.”

Jamie polished off the goat cheese quesadilla she’d been nibbling on. “Yeah, think about it this way,” she said swallowing the last bite. “With a school dance, there’s no dama drama, no quince mama drama…no tía traumas…etc.”

“No quince-zillas!” Alicia added.

Carmen put a hand up. “This is all true, but you are forgetting one very important thing: I will have to deal with the SoBees.”

Alicia weighed both sides of the argument. “Great college rec versus snobby SoBees. It’s your call.”

Carmen sighed. “I guess I want the recommendation.”

Just then, Jamie’s phone rang, but she didn’t answer it. Which was odd, because ever since Jamie had gotten the latest so-advanced-it’ll-make-your-breakfast-and-run-a-bath-for-you cell, she had been almost surgically attached to it.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Carmen asked as the phone continued to ring.

Jamie looked at the number and shrugged. “I’ll call them back.”

Carmen looked surprised. “Them? Don’t you mean, Dash?”

“It is Dash,” Jamie confirmed, looking embarrassed. “But I can talk to him later. No biggie. I’m hanging with you guys right now.”

Carmen looked Jamie in the eye. “I feel like I haven’t seen Dash in ages. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen Gaz in forever, either. Are you two hiding your boyfriends from me?”

Alicia blushed, which is what she did whenever she was asked a tricky question, regardless of whether or not she had something to hide. “We just want to give you time to heal,” she answered softly.

Carmen loved her friends; she truly did. She couldn’t imagine two girls who were funnier, smarter, and kinder than Alicia and Jamie. But if they did not stop handling her with kid gloves because she was single again, she was going to do them some serious harm—or at the very least, stop making custom clothes for them.

Reaching into her bag for her wallet, Carmen pasted on her brightest smile. “Come on, you two, what part of ‘mutual breakup’ do you not understand? I’m fine. And I would love to see Dash and Gaz soon, because, in addition to being your novios, they are also my good friends. So when are we going to hang? How about this Saturday night?”

Alicia and Jamie exchanged uncomfortable glances.

“I’ve got a—um—date with Gaz this weekend,” Alicia offered, awkwardly. “He’s taking me for a sunset cruise with dinner and dancing on a charter yacht called The Floribbean Experience. I know the name is cringeworthy, but I’ve heard it’s fantastic.”

Jamie looked sheepish. “Could we take a rain check? Dash has been away at an out-of-state charity golf tournament for a whole week. He gets back on Saturday, and I kind of want to be alone with him.”

Carmen laughed. “No biggie, ’manitas! Maybe we could all do brunch next Sunday.”

They had finished lunch and they paid the bill. Alicia stood up and gave her friend a hug. “Sounds like a plan.”

Jamie, who was never good at lingering, had already started to walk toward the front door, but she turned back. “We’ll be there. Later, amiga.”

As Carmen waved good-bye, she thought about how ridiculously her friends were behaving. She and Domingo had broken up a while ago. Sure, she still missed him. And sure, it would be nice to have a date night to look forward to—or to be able to call him and tell him about the crazy day she’d had. But she was getting used to being alone. And she had her girlfriends to talk to.

She was doing okay. Now, if only she could convince everyone else.