Waking Up in the Land of Glitter Read Free

one green. She rubbed her elbow against her sequin-accented gypsy
     skirt to remove it. When it didn’t come off, she grunted at the guilty residue.
    “Ofie, it gets hella worse,” Star said into her phone. “The lead jammer from Las Bandidas set me up with this irresistible
     rocker dude from Ireland. He had gobs of tats, and his accent was so Hollywood. He turned me on to this drink that is supposed
     to make you see little green fairies. You know I’m not the saucy type, so it just about killed me. I don’t remember much else
     except making out with him in the back of Maria Juana’s tacky convertible… He tasted like mint. I guess afterward I went and
     spray painted the mural, which I only know about because my parents made me watch the surveillance tape this morning. And
     then they made me come down here to do that segment on
Wake Up Arizona
. What was I supposed to do? Tell the truth? I’d never make it home alive! Now I have Crafty Chloe on my ass and Theo to contend
     with.”
    “You know better than to mix cocktails and your cousin, Star.”
    Star rubbed her head in disbelief, and knew Ofie was doing the same. “You know, I bet Maria Juana set me up. I have no idea.
     I know I screw up, like, every other day, but this is the worst. How am I going to explain this to Theo? I don’t know what
     he’ll be more freaked at: that I’m the one who spray painted his mural, my new tattoo, or the hickey on my neck.”
    “Tattoo?” Ofie asked.
    Just as Star spun around to make double sure Chloe wasn’t eavesdropping, she bumped into a buff chest.
    Theo’s chest.
    And the hardened expression on his face confirmed he heard the confession in its entirety.
    “Ofie, uh… Theo’s right here. I gotta jam. Bye, love you, peace out,” Star whispered, turning off her phone and slowly slipping
     it into her purse.
    She opened her hands and raised them to the sides of her face, as if it would help her say the right words. “Theo, from every
     ounce of my heart and soul, I am so sorry—I can totally, totally,
totally
explain this—”
    “No need,” he replied. “I’m through with you.”

2
    S tar’s heart sank at the thought of facing Theo. Never once had he let her down, or hurt her feelings. He always had her back,
     even when he didn’t know the full situation, just like earlier with Crafty Chloe.
    How did she return the favor?
    By not only blowing off his wedding-proposal dinner, but also jacking up the biggest and most personal art piece he had ever
     created—thousands of pebbles and small rocks arranged into one spectacular mosaic of various Arizona scenes. The multicolored
     mural sprawled across the twelve-foot-tall front walls of La Pachanga. Titled
Mi Tierra
, its glory was showcased in coffee table art books, on national TV shows, and in magazines. Visitors from Africa to Alabama
     visited La Pachanga just to take a snapshot of Theo’s masterpiece. He considered
Mi Tierra
his visual love poem to the state and vowed to never leave his hometown. And that artful affection added magic to the already
     enchanting grounds of La Pachanga.
    Theo didn’t feel that magic this morning. He felt resentment toward Star. After overhearing her conversation with Ofie, he
     hustled to the front of the restaurant. Star chewed on her thumbnail and mini-jogged at his side to keep up.
    Where do I even start?
she wondered, watching as he prepped for the emergency restoration. Her heavy black eyes lingered on his baggy khaki shorts,
     which hung low on his waist, and the thin white tank that stretched tight across his chest. Even with forty extra pounds on
     his stealth frame, grungy paint-stained clothes, and cheap black flip-flops, charisma oozed from his stance. She cracked her
     neck right and then left, and went to confront him as the entrance area buzzed with gawkers.
    “The wall, the wall. How I love the wall…,” pined a weeping poet who couldn’t have been older than eight. A frilly black veil
     dripped