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Dad grunted noncommittally, but I caught his slight smile. He was impressed too. Hard not to be with palm trees swaying against a perfect blue sky. Well, mostly perfect. Some clouds hovered on the distant horizon, but they didn’t diminish the golden California glow.
What had started as a few threatening clouds had escalated with alarming speed into a full-blown storm. Wind howled down the streets, bending palm trees at alarming angles and sending beach umbrellas tumbling like colorful tumbleweeds. The restaurant staff had started boarding up windows as we approached, and closed their doors for the storm.
I need you to understand that weather does not work like this in LA. Or really any of coastal California
Let’s see if these Californians can complete with our Mountain Mex.”
There is exactly zero universe in which anyone who has spent extended time in Mexico, eating actual Mexican food, considers the bullshit found in Colorado good. Even the white people nonsense in LA is iffy and LA is basically Mexico North.
A couple hours later we were showered, changed and in a town car on our way to some exclusive club my older brother’s fiancé got us on the list for. Being the future first-round draft picks and the younger brothers of the Bowl winning Mustangs’ quarterback, not to mention future brothers-in-law with the one and only Kelsey Best opened doors in a celebrity obsessed town like LA.
It really wouldn't have. Also, LA is complete and utter hell for anyone who doesn't meet Hollywood beauty standards, so this is gonna suck for all three of you.
“No, you cannot,” Abuela agreed coldly. “And now you must face consequences. I’ve already spoken to my friend Senator Organa,” Abuela continued, ignoring Mamá’s interruption. “I explained that, unfortunately, you would not be able to accept the summer internship position in her office.”

