Daisy tried her best not to let Ken see her heart explode. He might not have seen it, but she could not understand how he didn’t hear the thunderclap sound it made. “Sure.” She nodded, exercising incredible poise so as not to make her smile look somewhat creepy. “I’m sure she’ll love it, Ken.”
Her Freshman year, she finally attended the same school as the Dixon brothers. Ken and his brothers were the most popular seniors at their High School. At seventeen, the triplets had academically surpassed most of their peers and focused a lot of their attention on college-level classes like engineering and CAD. Ken stayed near the top of the honor roll and didn’t date very much.
The first time she passed him in the hall, he didn’t notice her at all. A few days later, she waved and said, “Hi, Ken.”
He turned his gaze toward her, somewhat startled, then knitted his brows as if trying to place her. When recognition dawned, it looked almost comical. “Daisy. Hey. I heard you were coming here this year. Cool.”
He nodded, then continued heading to his next class as if the exchange never happened. The next seven times she passed him the hall in the weeks that followed, he didn’t seem to notice her.
The fiesta de quince años, also known as a Quinceañera, is a celebration of a girl’s fifteenth birthday in many traditional Hispanic homes. While Daisy’s parents didn’t consider themselves very traditional in most regards, they wanted her fifteenth birthday party to be very special and chose to honor this tradition.
Hoping Ken would come as well as the rest of the young people in her parent’s youth group, Daisy wanted a dress that would devastate even the most oblivious man. Perhaps something low-cut and with sequins, or a gown that dipped in the back. Daisy’s mother wanted her garb to look more like an opaque ballerina tutu made of pink cotton candy and hoops.
They compromised with the dress being far more modest than what Daisy had in mind but far less fluffy and childish than what her mother had in mind. Daisy spent the better part of the weeks ahead preparing for her entrance, her segue, and her dances. She practiced walking up and down the stairs in high heels while neither touching the handrail nor looking down at her feet. She walked through rooms with a dictionary balanced atop her crown and spun and spun and spun through the den until her father told her to stop.
Mr. and Mrs. Dixon graciously offered their home for the party. They lived in a 20,000 square foot castle with grounds to match. Mrs. Dixon had told her mom that every fifteen-year-old-girl needed to feel like a princess on her birthday.
Daisy thought that Ken would surely notice her then, in his home, dancing across his floor, looking more elegant and beautiful and grown up than she had ever looked before.
The day arrived. Her parents greeted everyone. Her friends chattered about the castle and their envy over her party. A table draped with linen overflowed with gifts. Her grandparents arrived looking joyful and pleased that this tradition had carried on to her generation. Her father removed the low heels from her feet and replaced them with perfect high heels.
The day could have only been more perfect if her parents had not decided to limit the guests outside of family to young men and women age fifteen and under. Granted, she knew every person in attendance from either school or their church, but the Dixon brothers, and one Dixon brother in particular, would never see her in the flesh on this day. However, Mr. and Mrs. Dixon left an amazing gift before taking the triplets out of the home for the evening.
Her grandfather stole a private moment that afternoon. “My beautiful granddaughter looks far too sad for the occasion. Why are you sad, Cariño?”
Daisy considered an excuse but settled on the truth. Grown women told the truth. “A boy, Papa.”
This answer clearly surprised her grandfather. “A boy? Well, boys always disappoint. Bide your time and wait for a man. Eh? Is this boy here? I can talk to him about making you sad, you know.”
She grinned. “He’s not here. That’s why I’m sad.”
Understanding bloomed. “Ah. I see.” He smiled. “You know something, Cariño? I have not danced with you. And tonight, you look exactly as beautiful as your grandmother did the very first time I ever saw her. That