His shaggy bangs, which usually hung over his eyes, were sort of haphazardly gelled back, framing his high forehead and bewildered face. He looked adorably preppy, in khaki pants, a navy-blue blazer, a light-blue shirt, and a striped bow tie. He also looked utterly out of place. Alma was so busy gawking that it took her a minute to notice Mary Catherine by his side. In a short, strapless red satin dress and high-heeled sandals, she was hard to miss. Her sandy-blond hair was swept into a neat twist, and a short strand of white pearls stood out against the smooth skin of her throat. With M.C. looking like that, Alma knew their plan would work. She and Mary Catherine had hatched the plan at lunch on Friday: Mary Catherine would come as Evan’s date. When Evan protested, Alma patiently explained that M.C. wasn’t just any date; she was a drop-dead beautiful date. This would keep her dad and all of the nosy tías from thinking, even for a moment, that the country-club boy might be there to see Alma.
