Chapter 1

I stood in front of the hallway mirror, twisting a little to check how my outfit looked from the side. Nineteen years old and still living under my dad’s roof meant I had to balance wanting to look cute with knowing I’d get the classic Tony Escorcia side-eye if I left the house looking like I was headed to a club on a Tuesday afternoon. Today I’d gone safe: my favorite faded blue jeans that hugged my hips just right, a soft off-white cropped sweater that showed a sliver of midriff when I moved, and my worn-in white sneakers. My long, dark brown hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail with a few strands framing my face. I had my mom’s warm olive skin and my dad’s stubborn chin. Brown eyes, full lips, nothing too dramatic-but I liked what I saw.

“Angie!” Dad’s voice boomed from the kitchen, deep and familiar. “You eating before you head out or what?”

I smiled at my reflection, then padded down the hallway. The house smelled like coffee and the faint pine cleaner I’d used on the floors yesterday to stay on his good side. Rule number one in the Escorcia household: keep your space clean. Rule number two: communicate. They weren’t crazy rules. They were just Dad being Dad.

Tony Escorcia was leaning against the counter when I walked in, mug in hand. He was forty-seven but still carried himself like the construction foreman he’d been for twenty years-broad shoulders, strong arms, and a bit of a belly that he joked was “earned through years of good cooking.” His black hair was short and starting to show silver at the temples, and his face had the kind of weathered tan you get from working outside. Today he wore a plain gray T-shirt that stretched across his chest and a pair of comfortable navy sweatpants. The tattoos on his forearms-old ones from his younger, wilder days-peeked out beneath the sleeves. He looked tired but content, the way he usually did after a long shift.

“Hey, mija,” he said, eyes crinkling as he smiled at me. “You look nice. Going somewhere?”

“Just meeting up with Sofia and the girls at the café, then maybe the mall,” I replied, opening the fridge to grab a yogurt. “I’ll probably be home by nine, ten at the latest. If it changes I’ll text you.”

He nodded, satisfied. That was our deal. I was an adult-technically-but as long as I lived here, I followed the house rules. And honestly? It wasn’t so bad. Most of my friends complained about their parents being either absent or overbearing. Mine was just… present. Steady. The guy who still called me “mija” even when I rolled my eyes at it.

“You need money?” he asked, already reaching for his wallet on the counter.

“I’m good, Dad. I still have some from my last paycheck.” I peeled the lid off the yogurt and leaned against the opposite counter, facing him. “You working late again tonight?”

“Probably. Got a crew pouring concrete at six tomorrow morning, so I might crash early.” He took a sip of coffee, studying me over the rim of the mug. “Room clean?”

“Spotless,” I said, grinning. “You can do a white-glove inspection if you want.”

He chuckled, the low rumble I’d known my whole life. “Smart aleck. Just like your mother.”

We fell into easy silence for a moment, the kind that only happens between people who’ve shared the same space for years. I scraped the bottom of the yogurt cup while he scrolled through his phone, probably checking the weather for his job site.

I watched him for a second-my dad, solid and unchanging in so many ways. The man who raised me alone after Mom passed, who worked brutal hours but still made it to every parent-teacher night and soccer game. The guy who laid down simple rules not because he wanted to control me, but because he cared enough to worry.

“Alright,” I said, tossing the empty cup in the trash. “I’m heading out. Love you.”

“Love you too, kiddo. Text me when you’re on your way home.” He pulled me into a quick one-armed hug, the kind that still made me feel sixteen even though I was nineteen.

I grabbed my keys and purse from the hook by the door, glancing back once before I stepped outside. Dad was already rinsing his mug in the sink, humming an old song under his breath.

Just another Tuesday in the Escorcia house. Nothing special. But somehow, it felt like the perfect place to start whatever came next.

Chapter 2

Sofia’s horn gave two quick, cheerful beeps from the driveway just as I was locking the front door. I waved toward the kitchen window so Dad would know I was leaving, then jogged down the steps.

Sofia’s car was a shiny little silver Honda Civic that still smelled faintly of the fast-food drive-thru where she’d worked for two years straight to buy it. She was so proud of that car. Every time someone complimented it, she’d launch into the full story about saving tips and skipping concerts until she could pay cash. I slid into the passenger seat, the familiar creak of the seatbelt comforting.

“Hey, girl,” Sofia said, grinning as she pulled away from the curb. She was wearing a simple black hoodie and ripped jeans, her curly hair tied back with a scrunchie. “You look cute. New sweater?”

“Thanks. Old sweater, actually. Just haven’t worn it in a while.” I buckled up and glanced at the family sedan in the driveway. “Dad let me take the car last weekend, but I’m glad you’re driving today. I don’t feel like dealing with parking at the mall later.”

Sofia laughed. “Same. My baby here may not be fancy, but she’s paid off and she runs.” She patted the dashboard affectionately. “So, lunch at that new bistro by the plaza, then mall? Alyssa’s already texted me twice asking what time we’re picking her up.”

“Sounds perfect.”

We chatted about nothing important on the short drive to Alyssa’s house-Sofia’s latest shift drama at the coffee shop where she worked now, my dad’s endless construction stories, the usual. Ten minutes later we pulled up in front of Alyssa’s place.

She was already waiting on the porch, scrolling on her phone. As soon as she saw us, she waved excitedly and hurried down the walkway. Alyssa looked like she’d stepped out of a pastel dream. She wore a soft lavender oversized cardigan made of some fluffy material that looked incredibly cozy, layered over a pale pink blouse and cream-colored wide-leg pants. Her long blonde hair was styled in loose waves with a delicate white bow clipped on one side, and her makeup was fresh and glowing-soft pink cheeks, glossy lips, and that perfect winged liner she somehow always nailed.

She climbed into the backseat, immediately filling the car with the light floral scent of her favorite perfume.

“Hi hi hi!” she sang out, buckling up. “Oh my gosh, you guys, I spent forever deciding what to wear today. I saw this cardigan at Target last week-it was on sale for $22.99-and I just knew it would go perfectly with these pants I thrifted last month. Feel how soft it is!” She leaned forward and offered her sleeve to both of us. Sofia and I each gave it an obligatory touch.

“So soft,” I said, smiling.

“Right? The fabric is like a cloud. I paired it with this blouse because the neckline is just right-not too low, but still cute. And these pants? They make my legs look longer, don’t you think? Took me forty-five minutes to pick the right shoes. I almost went with my white sneakers, but then I found these ballet flats that match the bow in my hair. See?” She lifted her foot to show us the delicate cream flats. “I did a whole soft-girl aesthetic today. The makeup took forever too-had to blend three different shades for that natural flush. What do you guys think?”

“It looks really pretty, Aly,” Sofia said, pulling back onto the street. Her tone was warm, the same way mine would have been. We both knew this was just Alyssa being Alyssa. Fashion wasn’t a flex for her; it was her love language, her default conversation topic. Everything in her world had an outfit attached to it.

“Thanks! I was going to wear that mint green dress I showed you guys last time, but it felt too summery for today. Plus I saw this really cute cropped denim jacket at the mall last weekend that I’m hoping is still there. It would look amazing with the dress, but only if it’s under thirty dollars. I hate when things are overpriced for no reason…”

She kept going as we drove, describing in detail how she almost bought a different shade of lip gloss yesterday because the one she had on now made her feel “more springy,” and how she hated the stiff material of some pants she tried on at Forever 21. Sofia and I exchanged a quick glance in the rearview mirror-affectionate, slightly tired. It could get a little exhausting, the constant stream of fabric talk, price points, and accessory updates. But Alyssa wasn’t trying to brag or center herself. She just genuinely cared about clothes the way some people cared about sports stats or video games. We’d learned to roll with it years ago.

“So anyway,” Alyssa continued seamlessly, “that reminds me of when we went to the zoo last month. Remember how hot it was? I wore that buttery-soft yellow sundress with the tiny floral print-the one I got for eighteen dollars on clearance. It was perfect until the ice cream dripped on it…”

I leaned my head against the window, smiling to myself as the familiar rhythm of our friendship carried us toward lunch. Dad would probably text me in a couple hours to check in, and I’d answer like always. For now, the car smelled like Alyssa’s perfume, Sofia’s favorite playlist was playing low, and the three of us were together.

It was a good day already.

Chapter 3

Lunch was perfect-big salads and iced teas at the new bistro-and by the time we paid the check, Alyssa was already mapping out the best route through the mall. “We should start at that one store with the soft knits,” she said as we walked out to the car. “I saw the cutest pastel hoodie online. It would look amazing on you, Angie, with your skin tone.”

The mall was busy but not overwhelming. As soon as we stepped inside, Alyssa lit up like she’d entered her natural habitat. She moved from rack to rack with purpose, fingers brushing fabrics, checking price tags, and holding things up for us to see.

Sofia was browsing a sale bin of jeans when Alyssa wandered over. “These would be great for work, right? The stretch is nice. Oh, but if you’re still having that issue with your car’s AC like you mentioned earlier, you should wear something breathable. I had a similar problem last summer and I lived in this super lightweight linen blouse I got for twenty-four dollars. It was a game-changer-kept me cool even when the mechanic took forever.”

Sofia and I shared a small smile. Classic Alyssa. She could turn car repair into a wardrobe consultation without even realizing it.

We tried on clothes for almost two hours. Alyssa was genuinely the best shopping partner. She’d hold up a soft sage-green sweater against my chest and say, “This brings out the warmth in your eyes. Pair it with those dark jeans you already own-the ones with the subtle distressing-and maybe that delicate gold necklace you wear sometimes.” Then she’d turn to Sofia: “And for you, this cropped cream cardigan would be so cute over your black tanks. The fabric feels like butter, and it’s only $18.99!”

She was enthusiastic without being pushy, generous with compliments, and her knowledge of what went with what was actually impressive. I ended up buying the green sweater and a new pair of comfortable lounge pants in a soft blush color that Alyssa swore would be “perfect for movie nights at home.” Sofia grabbed a couple of basics too. Alyssa, of course, left with the lavender cardigan’s matching top and a new hair clip “that ties the whole soft-girl look together.”

At one point she excused herself. “I need to touch up my makeup real quick,” she said, already heading toward the restroom. Sofia and I just nodded. We knew that meant she’d be back in ten minutes with fresh gloss and perfectly blended blush.

By late afternoon we were shopped out and headed back to my house. Dad was already gone for his evening shift, so the place was quiet. We ordered pizza, changed into comfy clothes (me in my new blush lounge pants and an old tee, Sofia in sweats, Alyssa still in her full pastel outfit because “it’s too cute to change”), and settled in the living room to watch the new rom-com we’d all been excited about.

The movie had barely started when Alyssa began her running commentary.