How To Salsa in a Sari (11 page)

“Stop it, Mom! That's not what I want!” Issa cried out. How had this happened? She and Alisha were a democracy. They were equals. Best friends. Issa had always had a say before.

Until Diego. Issa burned with anger thinking of him. A criminal. The day that Diego had come along, Alisha had decided to start using the mom card. Now their relationship was a one-way street. Alisha made decisions and Issa followed them.

“I won't give you another chance to destroy what I've built for us,” Alisha was saying.

“He's not destroying us, you are!” Issa said bitterly. Her knees started to shake and she lowered herself into the couch. “How can you do this? We've missed him so much. All we wanted was for him to come back!”

“I never want to see you again,” Alisha whispered in Roy's direction. “Get out. You haven't changed and you never will.”

Roy finally stood up. “I didn't expect you would forgive me so soon, but I wanted to try. You're wrong, Alisha. I have changed.”

“Just go.” Alisha buried her face in her hands.

Roy turned back one last time from the door. “Bye, Issa-girl. I left my card on the counter. Call me if you need anything.”

Issa raised her hand listlessly.
Don't worry, Dad. This isn't over.

“I don't want you to talk to him again, do you understand me?” Alisha's tone was stern after the door had closed. She grabbed the card and crumpled it into her hand. “This is Diego's house and Roy is not welcome.”

Yes, Mother. Whatever you say, Mother.

Issa nodded robotically. She was done trying to talk to Alisha. Alisha had stopped being her best friend in the middle of all this. She no longer had any rights to tell Issa what to do.

Issa slammed the door to her room, the first time in sixteen years that she had shut Alisha out.

If she won't end this, I will. And if that means bringing down Cat, even better.

Later that night, after she knew Alisha was asleep, Issa crept into the kitchen and retrieved her father's card from the garbage. This was not over.

Loved by Some, Hated by Many, Envied by Most, Yet Wanted by Plenty

“Babe?”
There was a knock on Issa's door early Saturday morning. The Mazumders had barely spoken during the rest of the week after the fiasco with Roy. Issa had made a point of getting a ride to school early with Ishaan every morning and spending the entire evening in the Apex office. Her list-making talent had kicked in and she had composed a ten-step plan to bring down Cat and get her parents back together. Some would say it was harebrained, but it was the only thing she could come up with.

“Iz?”

Issa didn't want to see or talk to Alisha. As far as she was concerned, Alisha had chosen her life with Diego over Issa.

“Issa, you in there?” Alisha knocked harder.

Issa barely glanced up from her
In Style
magazine. “Yeah, I'm here.” She was still curled into the king-sized bed flipping through magazines. For her plan to work, she needed a whole new wardrobe and she had no time to waste speaking to a backstabbing mother like Alisha.

“Didn't you hear me?” Alisha glanced around the room. Issa had made a trip to Borders and had managed to carry home every fashion magazine in the store. Her room was now littered with
In Style, Marie Claire, Vogue, Elle-Girl
…

Issa knew nothing about high fashion and was thankful Gigi would be here in half an hour to help her out.

“What's going on in here?” Alisha pushed aside the current issues of
SHOP
and
Lucky
and folded her feet beneath her on the foot of the bed. “You going shopping?”

Issa barely acknowledged Alisha with a nod of her head.

Alisha's eyes flickered over the new picture Issa had displayed on her nightstand. It was the one of her parents when they were young. Alisha laughing. Roy kissing her hand. She wasn't going to hide her secret fantasy of having them back together anymore. It was a possibility. All Alisha had to do was look inside her heart.

“Hey, why don't we both go together? I need to get some new things too. Diego insists that we both need a day of relaxation. Why don't we do some shopping, then get pedicures, maybe get lunch at that new Italian place?”

Issa had full intentions of putting to use the credit card Diego had given her as a reward for her perfect score on the World Politics exam. But not with Alisha. “I'm going with Gigi.”

Silence.

Issa knew Alisha was waiting for an invitation. After all, the three of them had had infamous girls' day outings in the past. There was the time they'd come home with identical bobbed haircuts and feather boas. Or the time they'd each pierced a second hole in each ear. But those days were long gone along with Issa's faith in her mother.

“Anything else?” Issa finally looked up when it looked as if Alisha wasn't going anywhere.

“Look. I know you're still mad, but I'm telling you this is for the best. Diego is a great guy. Look at everything he's given us.”

“Well, if you say so, it must be true.” Issa resumed reading her magazine.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you're the mom. You make all the decisions and I listen. You've made it pretty clear that's how it's going to be from now on. Now, why don't you go and play house with Diego? I'm busy.”

Issa ignored the hurt look on Alisha's face but after her mother left the room, she threw the magazine across the bed. How could she focus on platform heels when her conscience was yelling at her practical side?

Practical Side: Serves Alisha right.

Conscience: But maybe she really is doing what she thinks is best. After all, Dad did leave once. Why wouldn't he leave again?

Practical Side: She needs to give him another chance. We all belong together.

Whatever. Issa wasn't going to waste another second debating this. Three Towers Mall was waiting.

Half an hour later, Issa stood in front of a mannequin in the BCBG store, Gigi by her side. The size-0 figure wore a lavender top with ruffled spaghetti straps over dark denim jeans tucked into knee-high boots. The outfit was ridiculous. Who wore their shoes
over
their pants anyway?

“It's perfect for you,” Gigi insisted.

“I'd look like Peter Pan!”

“You'd look hot!”

“I don't know how to look hot!”

“Can I help you?” A suspicious-looking saleswoman approached.

“She needs this in her size.” Gigi gestured toward the mannequin before Issa could shoo her away.

The woman raised her eyebrows with the question obvious on her face.
Could this grubby kid even afford a pair of earrings from BCBG?

Pretty Woman moment. Typical New Joliet saleswoman. Issa felt a tinge of offense. How dare this woman judge her? She had more of a free balance on her brand-new credit card than this woman would in her whole life.

“I have a lot to buy, so can we hurry this up?” Issa said in her most bored-adult voice. “I'm a size six.”

The woman, still looking doubtful, found the outfit for Issa and hustled her into a dressing room. Gigi looked most impressed by Issa's new attitude.

Issa shook out of her Black Eyed Peas concert T-shirt and cargos and tried on the outfit. She felt ridiculous in the heeled shoes, and thought wearing such a low-cut top in the middle of the afternoon was just plain slutty.

“You
do
look hot!” Gigi sat, slack-jawed, as Issa twirled for her.

“I do not.”

“You do! You're getting it. Actually, you're wearing it out.”

Issa opened her mouth to protest, but Gigi was already at the jewelry counter, finding accessories to match.

Issa looked in the mirror one more time. Ridiculous, but definitely different. Very Sienna Miller.

Still wearing the outfit, Issa left the dressing room and marched up to the counter. Both saleswomen were glancing in her direction and whispering.

“I'll take this whole outfit.”

The saleswomen exchanged glances and quickly rang her up as she flashed her American Express gold card.

“The outfit does look lovely on you, dear. We have a selection of purses if you're interested.”

Issa rolled her eyes. Ah, what money could buy.

“Thanks, I'm good.” Issa slid her credit card back into her wallet, earning a disappointed look from the saleswoman.

Issa fingered Roy Bradley's card, hidden behind her driver's license. She hadn't called him. Not yet. When she did call, she wanted to have good news for him.

Issa tucked her old clothes into the bag the lady offered her and sauntered back into the mall, enjoying the swivel in her hips brought on by the heeled boots.

Issa and Gigi got a lot more respect in the next store as Issa bought another pair of jeans, a black-and-white floaty miniskirt, some chiffon tops and a black shrug for cold days. Issa was slowly getting used to the idea that she would need to show skin and wear color. She started to think of it as playing a game of dress-up.

“So, what exactly are we doing?” Gigi asked in the dressing room of Armani Express. “I understand you need new clothes, I mean, I've known that for years. But you seem like you're on a mission or something.”

“If Mom thinks she can become Diego and have me be fine with it, I'll become Cat and see how everyone handles it.”

Issa slid a sheer silk tunic over her head and admired the way it fell on her hips. Very cool. Ashley Simpson wore something similar during her
Saturday Night Live
fiasco.

“What?” Gigi sounded disbelieving.

“I'll act like Cat does. I'll be nasty and evil and conniving. I'll make Cat's life such hell she'll beg Diego to throw me and Mom out. Poor brokenhearted Mom will go straight back into the waiting arms of Dad. And we're rid of the Morenas.” Issa inhaled as she slithered into skintight black pants. Giving up breathing seemed to be a prerequisite for looking “hot.”

“Okay. So let me get this straight. You're going to become popular and get Cat to hate you?”

“Yup. I'm going to take away the two things Cat wants most.”

“Which are?”

“The Snow Queen title and Rake Robinson.” Issa gasped out as she slid the pants off. Jeez, Veronica Mars could run around town and solve crimes in outfits like this, and so could the girls on
Smallville.
Issa couldn't even breathe and talk at the same time.

“Rake who?”

“Robinson. You know. The new guy on the soccer team. He's going to be my date for the Winter Ball.”

“Huh. How're you going to do that?”

Issa had spent the entire previous week observing. She'd sat in the middle of the crowded cafeteria and watched the various cliques of the high school. She'd watched the jocks act stupid because they were supposed to. She watched the punk crowd act normal when they thought no one was watching. She'd watched Cat be fake-nice to the new girl, then snicker and make up a fake rumor as soon as the girl left the table.

Issa had watched the small set of people who didn't seem to be impressed by Cat. And then she'd gotten an idea.

“The Belles.”

“The country-club-perfumed princess gang? And you?”

“They hate Cat. We have stuff in common.”

“Huh.”

Gigi didn't sound convinced and Issa didn't blame her. To go from social mediocrity to the top of the Athens food chain took people years. But Issa had no other choice. This was the only way to get her family back together.

Their next stop was Express, which Issa knew to be one of Cat's favorite stores. After selecting silky camisole tops and fitted sweaters, she stopped next to a rack of pants.

“What's with those midget pants?” She pointed to a shelf of what looked like long shorts.

Gigi laughed. “Uh, gauchos? They're totally hot. Especially with boots like you have on right now. They also go really well with, like, strappy sandals.”

Issa bought the absurd-looking, yet trendy pants and made a mental note: strappy sandals.

After a trip to Nine West where several heeled sandals and a pair of camel boots were purchased, both girls were exhausted.

Issa calculated her receipts. Already, she'd spent more money than she'd earned in her entire life. This was how Cat lived all the time, she thought as they stopped for an iced-tea break. She could get used to this life.

Until her mother left Diego and reunited with her father, of course. Having her family back together would be much more of a reward than these material things.

She gazed at her gorgeous new boots. But in the meantime, why not indulge?

Gigi insisted on a pit stop at the Clinique counter of Macy's next where Issa got her makeup done. As the saleslady finished putting on the final touches of blush on Issa's cheeks, she commented, “You know, if your bangs were wispier, it would really bring out your eyes.”

Gigi's eyes popped open.

Wispier bangs, Issa thought as she paid for an entire makeup kit and a bottle of Beyoncé's True Star perfume. Why the hell not?

 

“Hey, Ishaan.” Issa flounced into the
Apex
office early Monday morning. “Have a nice weekend?”

Ishaan didn't look up. “Yeah. Rocking. I was studying for my AP calc exam on Saturday night. Can you imagine what kind of…” His voice trailed off as he glanced at Issa. “What the hell?”

“Good?” Issa tossed her hair. She didn't blame Ishaan for being surprised. The rest of her weekend had consisted of a trip to the best salon in town where she'd indulged in a haircut, highlights and a manicure. The result was a flippy, Nicole Richie–like bob with copper highlights. Even though flatironing her ripply black hair had taken an hour and a half that morning, Issa had never felt prettier. She waved her sparkly pink fingernails in the air.

Diego and Alisha hadn't been able to stop complimenting her on her new look. Alisha had beamed as if all of Issa's new purchases actually made up for Alisha throwing Roy out the door.

“Really good. But what're you doing? What's with all this makeup and stuff?” Ishaan gestured toward her outfit. The lavender top with the miniskirt and black boots.

“Just working on an idea,” she said, the nervousness obvious in her voice. She still hadn't been able to shed her self-conscious teenager skin yet despite her glamorous new avatar.

Next thing she needed to improve was her attitude. For her plan to work, she couldn't be the superscholar anymore. She had to be carefree and fun-loving.

She practiced a Gigi-patented giggle. “How's that sound?”

Ishaan gave her a strange look. “I'm so glad I'm not a chick. You sound insane. You don't even sound like yourself.”