Estrella's Quinceanera

Chapter One quinceanera,(keen-see-ah-'nyair-ah) n., Spanish, formal (quince ['keen-say] for short): 1. traditional party (one that I refuse to have). According to my mom, a girl's fifteenth birthday is supposed to be the biggest day in her life. Thequinceanera,is like a huge flashing neon sign for womanhood. Back in olden times, it meant that a woman was ready to get married and have babies. 2. The way I see it, it's just a lame party with cheesy music and puffy princess dresses. "C'mon, Shorty," Bobby said, while pulling me into the conga line. "This is ridiculous!" I yelled over the deafening music. I gripped my brother's shirt tightly. "Don't be such a nerd, Estrella," he joked with a cheesy grin. "This is a fiesta." But it wasn't just any party. This was Teresa Sandoval'squinceanera,, the biggest day of her life -- or at least that's what our mothers told us. Tere had gone all out, cha-cha style. She was dancing at the front of the conga line in a white, layered dress with puffy sleeves. A rhinestone-studded tiara was balanced on top of her head. Tere looked like she was getting married, but there was no groom, just a bunch of pimply-faced cousins dressed in extra-large black suits. "Don't be jealous," said Rey, my other brother. He and Bobby were both seventeen, fraternal twins but identically annoying. He cut in behind me and held my waist as the line wove around an oval table. "I'm not jealous!" Rey snickered behind me. Okay, so the Hyatt was kind of cool, and Tere did get to ride around in a white limo all day. But whatever -- the reception was totally tacky. The decorations looked like rejects from the flea market, lace and frills everywhere. And what was up with the pathetic lime-green balloons rolling all over the floor? Couldn't anyone get it together to find a helium tank? But from the looks of all the happy people conga-ing with me, I seemed to be the only one who had noticed. "So when did Tere become so hot?" Rey asked. I turned around and looked at Tere. Her hair had been twirled into ringlets that were pinned on top of her head. A few tendrils hung down and framed her face. Her skin was clear and smooth. She had recently grown boobs -- big ones. She looked nothing like the chubby kid who used to come over to my house and play Connect Four. We'd been so close then; she'd come over practically every day after school. But we weren't friends anymore. Technically, I hadn't even been invited to this party. When Tere's invitation had come in the mail, everyone in my family had been listed but me. My mom said it was probably just a mistake and insisted I come anyway. I, of course, knew that it was one hundred percent intentional, but I didn't have the heart to explain that to my mother. So I came. And now here I was, feeling anxious, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Tere wouldn't notice me. The mariachi music picked up and people started running to catch up with the group. But it was too fast for my eighty-year-old nana. She slipped and fell, letting out a whooping laugh as she landed on the ground. I felt instantly embarrassed. Not for my nana -- she seemed to be having a grand old time right where she was -- but for myself. I tried to imagine how this would look to Sheila and Christie -- the overly frilly decorations, the sad balloons, and in the middle of it all, a tiny, wrinkly little old lady cackling on the floor. I felt my face grow hot. The music ended and everyone broke out in cheers for thequinceanera,. Bobby ran over to Nana, who was still clapping and laughing on the floor. She was having a merry time.Oh my God!I thought as Bobby reached out for her. Bobby was a pretty big guy and I was afraid he might dislocate her arm if he pulled her up too quickly. But he also had a soft streak that always surprised me whenever it appeareAlegria, Malin is the author of 'Estrella's Quinceanera ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780689878107 and ISBN 0689878109.