Page 59 of Mutual Discord

“Don’t get me started on how our skin is either not dark enough to be a Latino…or it’s too dark. It’s not fair. We’re expected to meet everyone’s arbitrary definitions of Latinidad, and it’s not possible.” I shook my head and sighed. “Being a Latina or Latino or Latine shouldn’t be tied to what language we speak or how brown we are. Or how far removed we are from our ancestral homes. A person’s Latinidad should be personal and however they choose to define it. As far as I’m concerned, you two are as Puerto Rican as I am, whether you speak perfect Spanish or not.”

Camila’s deep exhale drew my attention to her. She had tipped her head against the headrest and was staring at the roof of the car. “Thank you for saying that. Growing up as a kid with a Latino last name but tenuous connections to the culture was…isolating. I mean, it’s obvious I’m not white, but then to also not meet the expectations others have of what a Latina is supposed to be was alienating. I don’t know about you, Alex, but I didn’t start to feel comfortable in my own skin as a Puerto Rican until I was in college.”

“Mine was much more recent,” he murmured, rubbing his hand along his jaw.

His sister nodded. “And little things remind me of how much I still don’t know. Like, I don’t even dance salsa well. But I want to learn. The music is in my blood, so shouldn’t I innately know how to do it?”

“Maybe,” I said. After a moment’s hesitation, I reached out to grab her hand. “Have you ever experienced a Puerto Rican Christmas?”

Ay dios, why would I ask such a thing? I could not fathom where the words came from, and my heart shot to my throat like a rocket. And a quick glance at Camila revealed her looking at me with eyes wide.

“I mean, just our family Christmases. Mom usually made pastelón for dinner, although sometimes it was hard to find decent or ripe plátanos where they were stationed.” Camila turned to look at Alex. “And we ate microwave popcorn while we watched It’s a Wonderful Life. That was my favorite part of the night.”

“Mine, too,” Alex whispered.

“Did you open presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?” I asked.

“Usually morning.” Camila shrugged. “Dad mentioned that the family in Puerto Rico celebrated on Christmas Eve, and sometimes they wished us a merry Christmas over speakerphone.”

“We used to celebrate with family over the phone, too.” I darted a quick glance at Alex, who continued to watch me with an unreadable expression. Steeling my spine, I ventured forward. “Would you like to celebrate Christmas with my family?”

They went silent, and I clamped my jaw tight as my gaze pinged between the siblings. I hope I hadn’t overstepped. Did they think I was overeager and weird for extending such a random invitation? For all I knew, Caitlin and Alex already had plans to spend the holidays together. I hadn’t spoken to my friend since the week prior, and even then it was just nonsense texts with memes and random pictures from our days.

“Sofia.” Camila turned in the passenger seat until she faced me directly. Her velvet brown eyes were glassy as she stared at me. “That is the sweetest invitation. Alex said your parents are pretty great.”

Alex nodded in the back seat.

Camila reached out to grab my hand. “Are you sure? You just met me.”

“I’m positive. My parents would be thrilled to celebrate Nochebuena with you and introduce you to some of my family’s traditions.” I glanced at Alex over my shoulder. “Plus, your number is in my phone now, so we’re practically besties already.”

Camila chuckled. “I have to talk with Elena and Jenn”—her nose wrinkled—“and Sam, I suppose, but if I can come, I would love to. What do you think, Alex?”

“I think…” Alex cleared his throat and turned his gaze to the window. “Spending Nochebuena with the Mendozas sounds amazing.”

Then he turned to look at me, his dimple flashing for a quick second. It was long enough to suck the air from my lungs.

Chapter Sixteen

Thanksgiving was a quiet affair with my parents at my home in Tempe, but our Christmas celebration in Tucson promised to be epic.

“So we have Javi and Livi, your Tío Alejandro and Tití Sara, your cousin Roman and his girlfriend, Paula—”

“Paola,” I said, interrupting my mother’s recitation of the guest list.

“Paola?” She looked up from her list and blinked owlishly at her phone as we FaceTimed. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” I set down my bagel and licked cream cheese from the side of my hand. “Roman shared pictures online of the concert they attended together last week, and he tagged her. It’s definitely Paola.”

“Ay, well, I’m glad you said something before I greeted her as Paula.” Mamí smacked her forehead. “Anyway, where was I? Right, Roman and Paola, and then the twins. Have you heard from your friends?”

I blew out a long breath. “Denise told me to give you besos, but she’s going to stay home and celebrate with her sister’s family.”

“And Caitlin?” Mamí asked.

“Caitlin won’t be able to get here until New Year’s,” I said. “She sent her regrets.”

“I didn’t expect her to be able to join us anyway. When she came for dinner over homecoming, she mentioned how busy her schedule was through the holidays.” My mother shook her head. “I don’t know how she can go that long without seeing that man of hers. He’s so handsome I’d be worried some other woman would come along and snatch him up, like that ‘Jolene’ song by Dolly Parton.”