When they got to Nessa’s bedroom, Sophie shocked Nessa by not saying anything stupid like people usually did (“You speak Mexican?” or “I didn’t know you were Mexican.” Oh my God, people. Read a book.). Instead Sophie asked, “Do you speak Spanish, too? Is there any way you could help me with my Spanish homework? I’m bad. And I can’t get a B. I just can’t.”

Nessa couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure,” she said.

“What’s so funny?” Sophie asked.

Nessa understood almost everything in Spanish, but when she spoke it, people in her mom’s family made fun of her accent. At least her dad spoke it as badly as her. Well, way, way painfully worse than her. That helped.

“I speak enough to help you out, let’s just say that.”

Sophie grinned and proceeded to take out an abundance of makeup tools.

“Thanks,” Sophie said as she pulled out a powder brush.

Nessa couldn’t shake the feeling that Sophie was using her again.

“Okay, let’s get to work.” Sophie was there to make Eve look Brody-confession-inducing amazing, but Nessa had insisted on help with her own costume, too. She wasn’t convinced Sophie could pull it off, though.

Nessa showed Sophie a picture of the makeup look she wanted, and Sophie sighed.

“Not my usual specialty, but okay, I’ll give it a shot,” Sophie relented. “Professor McGonagall it is.”

Sophie’s costume appeared to be some kind of … pretty person? Cute girl? What was it exactly? Sophie and her friends dressed in these noncostume costumes every year.

“Okay, so spill it. What are you dressed as?” Nessa didn’t bother hiding the disdain in her voice.

“I’m a dancer,” Sophie answered as if it were obvious.

Nessa looked Sophie up and down. “Don’t dancers wear leotards? Tutus or something?”

Sophie put her hands on her hips. “Wow, the costume police are really strict this year.”

Nessa shrugged. “I’m just saying. Okay, let’s do this.”

After Sophie finished up and put the final bobby pin into Nessa’s bun, she handed Nessa a hand mirror from the bed stand.

Nessa stared at her reflection. She looked incredible. “Thank you!” she said.

Sophie smiled approvingly. “Not bad,” she admitted.

So Sophie got to be the most crushed-on girl in the eighth grade and she had serious makeup talent? What a nice life.

“Hey!” Nessa exclaimed, thinking of a way that Sophie could do something else for her. “You should do makeup for The Music Man! They make us do our own, but most people are really bad at it, and you’d make us all look so much better! We can trade homework help for Music Man makeup magic!”

Sophie grunted. “Yeah, right.”

At that, the doorbell rang.

“Right on time!” Nessa yelled out.

Eve walked in, dressed in the Juliet costume she’d worn two years in a row.

Sophie looked Eve up and down and, without even saying hello, held up a makeup brush and declared, “You have to look perfect tonight.”

As soon as they walked into the gymnasium, Sophie went off to the middle of the room to join her crowd.