Saturday, June 13
8:08 A.M.
The next morning Alicia slammed her fist against the elevator button. The two sea horses spun and collided in a torrent of bubbles. Not that she cared. Why should her life be the only one spinning out of control?
“Why so angry?” Nina asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.
Alicia was tempted to cry-scream at her well-rested cousin about how evil her prank had been. Or how badly she’d wanted to go to Danzatoria. Or how chilly and lonely it had gotten last night once the sun had set on the wet deck. Or how pathetic she’d felt waving soggy magazines over the drenched canvas chaises while freshly showered guests dined and danced all around her.
But explaining it would have been impossible, and strangling Nina wasn’t an option. After six hours of overtime Alicia’s jaw was stiff from blowing on the chairs and her wrists were sore from fanning them. All she could do was pretend Nina wasn’t beside her, waiting to share the elevator down to the towel room so they could waste another beautiful summer day patting down the rich and oily.
Despite the early hour on a Saturday morning, the lobby was teeming with tittering teens hoping to get spotted by ¡i! before tomorrow’s video auditions. They were probably hoping he’d see them and become so captivated by their beauty he’d whisk them to the front of the line. Alicia knew. She used to think that way too. Before she was in debt. Before her parents cut her off. Before the twins became GR Girls without her. Before she had an uneven tan. Back when she had hope.
The elevator dinged and the aquarium doors slid open. “Don’t Stop the Music” by Rihanna was blasting at top volume. So were the twins. “Woooo-hoooooooooo!” They shout-danced their way into the lobby.
Pleated gold lamé wrap minidresses barely covered their GR bikinis. And from the confident smiles on their made-up faces, they wouldn’t have had it any other way. Their black hair was teased to triple its regular volume, while the pieces around their faces were slicked and pinned to the sides of their heads. Strappy turquoise heels gave them three extra inches of height they didn’t need, making Alicia feel even smaller than she already did.
As if Nina and Alicia were two insignificant guests who’d won their rooms on some tacky game show, the twins breezed by without a single word.
“Are you guys mad at me for bailing last night?” Alicia tried. They stopped, acting as if they’d just noticed her.
“You bailed?” Isobel asked, adjusting the butterfly back on her black-pearl drop earring.
“Um, yeah,” Alicia said, eyeing Celia, wondering if she’d even bothered to mention Alicia was invited. “I was supposed to go out with you guys, but I had to work late so I—”
“Do you think I could borrow your yellow slip dress tonight?” Isobel interrupted. “You know, since you’ll be working late again?”
“I was going to ask about that dress,” Celia whined.
Behind them, the elevator doors dinged and kissed shut.
“I’m not working late tonight,” Alicia corrected her. “Where’s everyone going? Will ¡i! be there? Did you see him last night?”
“He got stuck at another party.” Celia rolled her eyes. “Some boring industry event. But G, P, and S promise he’ll be joining us tonight at dinner.”
“What time?” Alicia asked, contemplating the yellow slip dress for herself.
“Early,” Isobel blurted. “Before you get off work.” She spotted G, P, and S heading into the restaurant for the breakfast buffet and grabbed her sister’s arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll take great care of the dress.”
“If you get the dress, I get the purple backless camisole,” Celia demanded, as if it belonged to Isobel.
Before Alicia had a chance to remind them exactly whose clothes they were arguing over, they click-clacked away like two runway models racing to make their curtain call.
Nina leaned forward and re-pressed the elevator button. She sighed and mumbled something in Spanish.
“What?” Alicia asked angrily, accidentally breaking her lifetime vow of Nina-silence.
“I told you so.” Nina smoothed her stiff maid’s dress with a cocky stroke of her hand.
“You told me what?”
“I told you they were using you for your Ralphs.”
Unable to hold back the tears for one more second, Alicia turned on her white flip-flop and raced to the nearest bathroom as if she were starring in an Imodium commercial.
After a solid twenty-minute stall-sob, Alicia returned to the lobby feeling like she’d just stepped off the plane all over again. Her limbs ached and her eyes burned. Only this time, instead of her heart feeling helium-light with excitement for all the things to come, it felt like a rock—heavy and hard and kicked around. Her Spalpha days were over before they had even begun.
As she ambled through the lobby-crowd in a slow, dreamlike state, a beam of light flashed before her eyes. She blinked it away, irritated by the intrusion. But it came back. Over and over again. At first she had dismissed it as a ray of sunshine until she realized the windows had been tinted in preparation for the video shoot. Perhaps it was someone’s finger-bling or a kid’s toy or a . . .
But none of those things could have created the blinding glare that seemed to be affecting only her. And then it dawned on her. Maybe it was a sign from the Spalpha gods. A message to stay strong. To find her inner light. To blind the world with her charm and beauty.
Yes! That was it!
The more Alicia thought about it, the more she knew she was right. Alphas like Massie, the twins, and ¡i! weren’t born, they were built. They had to fight for what they wanted out of life. The best outfits, perfect bodies, A-list party invites, or glam jobs. It was all work. And the more they worked, the more they got.
Determined, Alicia set off for the elevator with renewed strength, ready to show these Spalphas that there was more to this señorita than folding towels.