Héctor held his breath as Juliana went still as a statue, her eyes glassy and frightened. A moment passed in silence, and it was agony, because right then, Héctor needed to hear something, anything. He knew exactly what it was like to reveal your true self to someone and wait for the words to come. He had been there, too, and now, Juliana was all anticipation.

“I know, baby,” said Mrs. Chin, and a huge smile spread across her face as her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve known for a while.”

Juliana’s mouth dropped open. “Wait—what?” she said. “You knew?”

“Honey,” said Mrs. Chin, wiping at her eyes, “you told me last summer that you wanted to marry Janelle Monáe.”

“Well . . . yes, that is true,” said Juliana, a little embarrassed. “I didn’t think you’d think I was serious!”

And then Mrs. Chin’s arms stretched out, and she beckoned for her daughter. Mrs. Chin’s eyes met Héctor’s over Juliana’s shoulders, and he saw that she was crying.

His parents had cried, too. Papi way more than Mami, actually, and he had said that he would immediately go to war with anyone who hurt his son. “Full warfare,” he said. “No holds barred, mijo.”

Looking at Juliana and her mom right then, Héctor knew that Mrs. Chin would go to war for her daughter, too.

Mrs. Chin pulled back and wiped at her eyes. “Oh, Juliana, this is what Mr. Stafford brought me here for? We could have done this at home!” She sighed, and the tears came back. “Your father will be so thrilled to hear your truth, baby.”

Principal Stafford cleared his throat. “Actually, ma’am,” he said, “I think your daughter just wanted to be the one to impart that information to you. It’s not why you’re here.”

Mrs. Chin frowned, and her eyebrows rose dramatically. “I don’t understand. Then why am I here?”

Here we go, thought Héctor, and then: I shouldn’t be here. This was too personal, and as the awkward silence filled the room, he wanted to escape. To run out into the hallway and—

But then Sal grabbed his hand and squeezed, and Héctor thought, No, this is where I need to be.

“Mrs. Chin, your daughter was set to be the DJ for our upcoming fall dance.”

“I know,” said Mrs. Chin. “She told me all about it. Was all excited to pick out a good playlist. You know she’s really good at her transitions, right?”

“I . . . did not know that,” he said. “And I’m sorry to have to inform you of this, but Juliana will no longer be the DJ at the upcoming dance.”

That frown returned again. “Okay,” she said. “Why is that?”