Page 140 of The Jack*ss in Class

I nodded, unsure what to say. Since our blow out, things had been civil but strained between us. Mamá had stopped actively trying to get me to give up writing, but she hadn’t exactly embraced my choice either.

“And Rosalind?” I asked.

Papá’s expression tightened slightly. “Running late, apparently.”

Rosalind had been making herself scarce ever since Abuela had discovered her role in leaking my identity to the media. No one had told the rest of the family yet.

Catalina approached, immaculate as always in her signature white pantsuit that somehow remained pristine despite the party chaos.

“There’s the woman of the hour,” she said, surprising me with a genuine smile. “Cum laude, departmental honors, and student speaker. Not bad for the girl who used to hide under the bed to avoid school.”

“That was one time,” I protested, “and it was because I hadn’t finished my book report.”

“Well, now you write the books that other students read while procrastinating writing their reports,” Catalina replied smoothly. “Full circle moment.”

Something in her tone made me look at her more closely. “Have you actually read my books, Cat?”

She took a deliberate sip of her drink. “I may have picked one up. For market research purposes only, of course. My clients are extremely interested in the crossover between sports merchandise and romance readers.”

Coming from Catalina, this was practically a ravereview. I grinned. “Careful, Cat. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Take it while you can get it,” she advised, before her gaze shifted over my shoulder. Her expression cooled noticeably. “Heads up. Mamá alert at two o’clock.”

I turned to see my mother emerging from the house, elegant as always in a tailored navy dress, her hair swept into a perfect chignon. She paused on the patio, surveying the festivities with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“There’s my favorite graduate,” said a warm voice behind me. Arms slipped around my waist and Flynn’s chin came to rest on my shoulder. “Your mom’s heading this way. Want me to create a distraction? I could get Burrito to eat the centerpiece.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I can handle this.”

And surprisingly, I realized I meant it. After everything, the public revelation of my identity, the media frenzy, the initial family fallout, a conversation with my mother no longer seemed like the end of the world.

“Tempest,” Mamá said as she approached, her voice carefully neutral. “Your speech was... well written.”

Not exactly effusive praise, but coming from Dr. Luz Navarro, it wasn’t nothing either.

“Thank you for coming, Mamá,” I said, stepping forward to accept her brief, formal embrace.

“Of course I went. It was your college graduation.” She turned to Flynn with a polite nod. “Flynn. Congratulations on your own achievement today.”

“Thank you, Dr. Navarro,” he replied, easy and confident beside me.

An awkward silence stretched between us until Mamácleared her throat. “Tempest, when you have a moment, I’d like to speak with you. About your plans.”

And there it was. The conversation I’d been dreading all day.

“Actually,” I said, squaring my shoulders, “now is good.”

Flynn’s hand found the small of my back, a silent show of support.

“I understand from your father that you’ve finalized your living arrangements in Los Angeles,” Mamá began, her tone carefully controlled.

I nodded. “Yes. We found a house not far from the Bandits’ practice facility. It’s also near a great coffee shop that’s perfect for writing.”

She pressed her lips together, a familiar sign of disapproval. “And this is truly what you want? To leave Denver? Your family? Your academic prospects?”

“Mamá,” I said, keeping my voice even, “we’ve discussed this. I’m not abandoning my family by moving to LA. And I’m not giving up on my career, I’m pursuing it. Writingismy career.”

“A career that could end at any moment,” she argued. “These trends, these... fads in publishing. What happens when people lose interest in your books? What’s your backup plan?”

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