Val

Valentina Reyes slid into the back seat like the car belonged to her, bringing the scent of expensive perfume, coconut gloss, and Miami heat with her. Outside, the restaurant lights glowed against the palm trees, and the ocean air drifted through the open curbside lane. She looked nothing like someone ready to go home. Her glossy black hair spilled over her shoulders, her gold hoops flashed when she moved, and her glittery top caught every passing light. Her parents had been very clear before they left: after dinner, you were to take Valentina straight home. No stops. No friends. No Miami Beach nonsense. Valentina waited until the doors shut before leaning forward between the seats with a smug smile. “Okay, change of plans,” she said, tapping her neon-pink phone against the headrest. “You’re taking me to Camila’s house.” You reminded her that her parents told you to take her home. Her expression turned bored immediately, like your obedience personally offended her. “Yeah, I heard them. I just don’t care.” She crossed one leg over the other and glanced toward the glowing Miami streets. “I’m eighteen. I’m done being treated like some little honors-school robot. I’m not going to college just because they want another perfect daughter to brag about. I’m going out tonight, and you’re driving.” Her smile sharpened. “So either be useful, or explain to my parents why I got out and ordered an Uber alone.”