t e n
“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.”
—Anais Nin
I’m standing at the front door of the de los Santos family home when Jas’s youngest brother, Isko, answers in tapered black sweatpants and a track jacket. He’s got the whole athleisure look going on with his outfit. He’s also wearing eyeliner. It looks hot. His dark eyebrows look way better than mine, like he just had them threaded.
“Isko!” I say, hugging him, automatically feeling more at ease here than at home. “I just texted your brother.”
“He told me you were coming,” he says. “You look radiant. Are you seeing someone?”
“Seeing someone?” I hesitate.
Does Isko know something I don’t? I don’t know how to answer the question. I’ve had a crush on Zach forever, who finally seems to be interested and available. Maybe.
“You know, like, romantically? I have this theory that people in love have this glow around them.”
He’s barely in high school, but Isko seems so grown up now. He’s so self-confident. “I am radiant,” I tease. “But no, not seeing anyone. Have my eyes on a few.”
“Story of my life.” He laughs.
We both enter the house, and Danny comes running up. He’s wearing jeans splattered with paint spots, a wrinkly black shirt and striped socks. Danny and Jasmine are both much less fashion conscious than their younger brother.
“Get away from my girl,” he says to his brother.
“Your girl?” Isko says. “She’s her own girl.”
“Got that right,” I say, walking over to Danny to give him a hug. “I haven’t seen you in six months. How are you both so much taller when I haven’t grown an inch?”
Isko whistles. “I’ll say. Look how tiny you are...”
His words feel both like a jolt of affirmation—finally someone’s starting to recognize my hard work—but I also feel ashamed. He has no idea what I’ve been doing to lose the weight. It isn’t pretty. It’s not the kind of weight loss you can brag about.
“It never stops,” Danny says. “Isko just keeps getting skinnier, taller and funnier looking.”
“Speak for yourself,” Isko says. “You might be a senior now, but you look like you’re in second grade with that baby face.”
“As you can see,” Danny says to me. “Isko is just as annoying as ever.”
“Only to you,” he says, “I have to go. I’m going to the movies with Simon. Or something like that.” He winks. “I’ll catch you both later.”
“He’s so grown up,” I say to Danny as Isko runs out the door. His confidence inspires me. He really knows how to live with... What did Ms. Day say that French term was? Joie de vivre? I’m almost jealous of the constant joy he seems to find in living.
“I know, he’s really discovering himself.”
“How are your parents taking it?” I ask.
“It’s driving them a little crazy to be honest. Jas never gave them trouble. The only thing I do that annoys them is spend most of my time locked up in my room, drawing. He’s always been a handful, but now he’s really coming out of his shell.”
“That’s great,” I say. “I wish I felt that carefree in front of my parents.”
“They’re just going to have to get used to him being the life of the party.”
I hear a cough from the kitchen and peek through the doorway to see Lola Cherry sitting at the kitchen table with a crossword puzzle in front of her.
“Not as long as I’m alive he’s not,” she says.
“Lola!” I say, walking into the kitchen. I’m so excited to see her. Though Lola Cherry isn’t Danny’s real grandmother, she pretty much counts—which means she’s my grandmother too. I love her. She’s so feisty. She doesn’t take crap from anyone.
“Hi, darling,” she says. “Good to see you, little baby.”
I give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“You look beautiful,” I say.
“I know.”
“God, Lola,” Danny says. “Are you running for Miss USA or something?”
“I’d win,” she says, setting down her crossword puzzle. “And then I’d be the life of the party. You should see me in a bikini.”
“Oh, Lola,” I say. “I missed you.”
“Good for you,” Lola says.
“This is what I love about you guys.” I laugh. “Always fun. Always make me feel so...welcome.”
The tension I’ve been carrying in my shoulders this entire school year begins to loosen. The stress from all the drama—especially due to the campaign—begins to wash away. I feel accepted here. I don’t have to be anything more than I already am.
I know every family has their problems, but I’ve always felt safe around the de los Santos family. They can argue with each other and actually work things out. Not like mine. We can fight until we’re blue in the face and not get anything done.
“Look who Danny dragged in through the door,” Pilar says, entering the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”
That’s always her first question. I don’t know how Jasmine stayed so thin living with her mother. It must have been all the cheer and dance practices. Jas probably has better willpower than I do too.
Pilar opens the fridge. It’s jam-packed with food, and she has to rearrange some bottles and boxes to see around everything. “I have leftover lumpia. I’ll heat some up.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I can’t though. I’m on a diet.”
If I start eating Pilar’s cooking, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.
“That’s what Jasmine always used to say when she was your age,” Pilar mumbles into the refrigerator. “Why a diet? You get smaller every time I see you.”
“You didn’t tell me we had lumpia,” Danny complains.
“Maybe you should look in the fridge once in a while,” Pilar says. She turns her attention to me. “Are you sure I can’t make you something? I can cut up some pineapple or mango. It’s healthy.”
It feels rude to keep refusing her, but I have to save my calories. There’s no way I’m getting out of dinner with my family tonight unless I fake sick, which I can’t do since I’m supposed to meet up with Antonia for our double-date later tonight.
“I can’t ruin my dinner,” I explain. “Royce and Mason are home for the weekend and Mom’s cooking.”
“I can understand that,” Pilar says. She walks around the counter and gives me a hug. “You should come more often. It’s so good to see you. What brought you over?”
“She missed me,” Lola says, winking.
“Lola, let the girl talk,” Pilar says.
I hug Lola and say, “Dad’s running for governor. He’s working on the campaign tonight, and to be honest I really don’t want to be in the spotlight. I was talking to Royce and thought of you guys, so I texted Danny and came over.” I look around the room for Jas’s dad. He’s nowhere to be found. “Where’s Mr. de los Santos?”
“He went up to Stanford,” Danny says. “Father-daughter talk.”
My stomach drops a little. It seems like a big deal for him to go all the way up there just to talk. Maybe Royce and Jas’s relationship problems really are that serious.
“Oh boy,” I say. “Sounds scary.”
I don’t get why Royce wouldn’t wait for Jas to go through medical school before he takes an international job at a news bureau. He could just work in the United States.
If I were in her shoes, I would be anxious too. She’s graduating this year and has to figure out what she wants to do next. She already has to fight bureaucracy to even stay in the country and Dad’s campaign will affect her too. She’s been through so much—immigration hearings, political drama with my family, scholarship applications, what seems like the longest path toward being able to apply for citizenship—just to get where she is now.
“I don’t think so,” Pilar says. “They do that now and then.”
It’s weird that Pilar isn’t mentioning Royce. Usually it’s “Jasmine and Royce this” and “Jasmine and Royce that.” Are they officially breaking up? My anxiety starts to rise again. I don’t know what I would do without being able to go to Jas for advice. Or losing the de los Santos family. Even more, Royce would be in worse shape than me.
“When my dad tries to talk to me one-on-one,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, “I want to hide under the table.” It’s actually true. He can be a little intimidating. I guess he has to be that way at work. He has to show his strength, his conviction of character.
“Enough about your father,” Lola says. “What are you doing?”
“Not a whole lot. Just trying to stay on top of school,” I say, even though I’m thinking about how I really haven’t gotten anything of substance done for the gallery show. “I’m also putting together a portfolio to apply to a gallery show for young artists.”
There’s a chance I may not even be accepted, but I figure telling them about the show might motivate me to get more work done. I need to be better about pursuing my goals. It’s frustrating to feel like I’m working so slowly. I need to be more disciplined.
“That’s awesome,” Danny says, putting his arm around my shoulder. “I’ve got a few drawings to show you too. You ready?”
Danny was actually one of the people who inspired me to start drawing. When Jas and Royce first started dating, Danny and I were in middle school. Royce would bring me over with him, and Danny would show me whatever doodle he was working on. He even gave me this book that explained all the basics of how to sketch shapes and shade drawings to make them three-dimensional.
His sketches were fantastic even when he was young. I wanted to be as good as Danny so I started sketching all the time too. Our styles now are pretty different though.
“I’m taking a figure drawing class downtown right now,” Danny says. “I don’t know why they don’t do that at my school. It’s such a basic skill you have to learn.”
I follow him to his room.
“I mean, there’s the whole posing nude thing too...”
Danny laughs. “Yeah. I guess. But they’re just bodies...”
“Tell that to the guys in my art class,” I say. “They totally lose it when the teacher so much as shows us a photograph of a classical statue.”
“I would practice on Isko...” he continues. “But he can’t sit down for more than two minutes at a time, and Lola Cherry won’t stop repeating the story about the time she was the most beautiful girl who ever won the Miss Rice Festival Pageant in her village.”
I laugh. “I wouldn’t want to use my family as models either.”
At least I get to do some figure drawing at school. Ms. Day shows us techniques and makes us practice drawing each other all the time. She says it’s good for artists to know what their models are going through when they sit for a sketch or painting.
“These are from the figure drawing class,” Danny says, having me sit at his desk, which is covered in paints and charcoal. I sort through the figure drawing pen-and-inks and a few Conté crayon drawings too. Even though his subjects are stationary, the way he draws makes them seem like they’re moving and breathing on the page.
“These are beautiful,” I say. “These lines. They’re so confident. Your use of positive and negative space... I mean, the way your subjects are positioned...” I’m in awe. “Honestly, I’m kind of jealous. It’s better than what I can do, that’s for sure.”
“I want to go to Otis College of Art and Design next year.”
“You’ll totally get in,” I say.
“I’ll be lucky to,” he says. “Applications are due by the end of the month. Honestly, I don’t know how I’ll pay for it. We have green cards now, so I qualify for some aid, but I don’t want to be a burden on Mom and Dad.”
I feel guilty. I hate that my parents could afford to send all three of us to nice schools while the de los Santos family struggles to make ends meet. Sometimes I wonder whether that ever bothers Jas or affects her relationship with Royce, but she doesn’t say anything.
“You’ll get in.” I set his drawing down. “You will.”
“I’d have to get a scholarship—like Jas—so my application has to be killer.” Danny’s serious now, like he’s confiding in me. “I was thinking, though, about maybe doing something really different there.”
“Like what?” I say, excited to hear about it. His work is that good.
“Toy design,” he says. “It seems crazy fun. They have a whole program for it. I have so many ideas for action figures. It’s like they’re always pouring out of my head. And I love sculpting. And 3-D modeling. I don’t know, I think I’d be really good at it. The same way you’ll be so good at whatever you want to do.”
“I’m supposed to submit a proposal of the concept for the show plus one finished painting and sketches for the rest in late spring. It’s due in May for a summer show.”
“That would be so dope,” Danny says, jumping up from the bed. His hands move around a bunch when he gets excited. “You have to go for it. What’s your concept?”
“I’m not exactly sure, but I’ve been looking at a bunch of different stuff to get ideas. I know how I want the visual style to look, but I don’t know what I want to say, you know?” I remember how Ms. Day told me I needed to find my voice, but I don’t know how I’m going to develop my voice when I can’t figure out what I have in my heart that’s worth spilling all over the canvas.
“You’ll figure it out,” Danny reassures me. “It’s only fall. There’s still plenty of time.”
“I’ve already fallen behind though,” I say, thinking about all the things I have to juggle. “There are so many classes I have to study for. And SATs. Visiting colleges. I just forget to even think about my art sometimes. I see what you’re doing, and it just makes all my dreams come rushing back. I need to come up with better concepts.”
“Why don’t you come to the figure drawing class with me? Just for some extra practice. You’re welcome to join anytime,” Danny says. “Hey. That just gave me an idea.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I model an action figure after you for my application?”
“Me?”
“It would be so rad,” Danny says.
Has he actually seen what I look like? I’m in no shape to be an action figure. I start laughing, thinking of the absurdity of seeing myself as a tiny plastic superhero. “It would be a failure if you modeled an action figure after me. It wouldn’t fly or repel bullets. It would be slow and fat and wear too much lip gloss.”
“I think that sounds cool,” he says. “Superheroes are boring anyway. Too perfect. Flaws are what make a person interesting.”
“I must be the most interesting girl in the world then.” Turning through the pages of Danny’s portfolio, I think about how there are so many things I want to fix about myself. My grades. My family. My anxiety. My body.
“I feel the same way. Like there are so many more things I’m bad at than good. I love drawing and painting, but sometimes I feel trapped, like it’s the only thing I do well.”
I look up from Danny’s drawings at him. He’s being sincere.
“Anyway,” he continues. “If Isko were here he’d tell me to stop being so hard on myself.”
“Wise kid,” I say, wishing I didn’t beat myself up so much sometimes. It’s difficult being your own worst critic, but I have to be critical because my expectations for myself are so high. I just feel so mediocre all the time. It’s depressing.
“I envy him. He lives his life the way he wants without worrying about what other people think. I’m not that way. Neither is Jasmine. I don’t know where he gets it from...” He pauses for a moment, then begins to speak.
“Lola Cherry,” Danny and I say at the same time.
“Do your parents know?” I ask.
“That he’s gay?” Danny sits down on his bed and rests his elbows on his knees. “They know. I think they’re still coming to terms with it. They love him. I think they just worry about how he might be treated here. The Philippines is actually more accepting of gay people than the United States in some ways. It’s hard anywhere though.”
“What about Jasmine?” I ask.
“Isko told her first, actually. She and I are just happy that he’s happy. He’s already going to have to face enough criticism from other people. He doesn’t need any from us.”
“It’s cool that you guys are so supportive. I don’t know what my dad would do if I was a lesbian.” I hope that going with Antonia on her date with Heather tonight really will make her feel more comfortable, but I’m not looking forward to having to make small talk with Mika the whole night. I’m just not good at coming up with things to say.
“Really? You think he’d flip?”
“I mean, I think he’d love me no matter what, but a gay daughter wouldn’t really match up with his campaign values.”
That’s one of the main reasons I don’t like talking to him about politics. Dad can be pretty open-minded, but I don’t understand how he can still hold some of his beliefs when some of the people—like the de los Santos family—his party’s policies affect are so wonderful. There are all these questions that sit at the back of my mind, nagging me, whenever Dad talks about his campaign. What happened if Jas and her family were kicked out of the country? Are politics more important than the people you love?
“I guess not,” Danny says. “But if Jas and Royce get married someday, then your dad’s going to have a gay Filipino immigrant son-in-law. Think about that!”
I laugh. That wouldn’t bother Dad. He loves Isko.
“I may not be happy Dad’s running for governor, but I have to give him a little credit. He’s changed a lot these last five years. Especially after what happened with your family’s immigration status. I think getting to know Jas and all you guys, then realizing that you could be deported at any time, really shook him. I know Royce argued with him about softening a lot of his policies during that time. He’s a lot more moderate now.”
“How’s Royce doing?” Danny asks.
Crap. It’s not just Royce acting weird. There’s obviously something big going on between them. I wonder what Jas has told Danny. She seems pretty private.
“He’s acting kind of weird, I guess. How’s Jas? The only times I’ve texted her she seemed pretty busy with studying and stuff.”
“Jas hasn’t really been around much. Mom complains when she calls because she hasn’t come down from Stanford to visit in months.”
“Something’s going on with her and Royce,” I say. “Don’t tell your parents. Royce would kill me.”
“I figured. She hasn’t mentioned him in a few weeks.”
“Do you know what they’re fighting about?” I ask.
Danny shakes his head. “I was going to ask you,” he says.
“She hasn’t said anything to me either, but Royce said something about her wanting to apply to medical school while he wants to get an international job. I don’t know where. I guess she wants to stay in the States.”
“That makes sense,” Danny says. “Leaving the country would get kind of complicated for us based on our immigration status. We’re not totally in the clear yet.”
“I guess every couple has their problems,” I say, reflecting on how Royce and Jas breaking up would probably be as bad as my parents getting a divorce. It would really feel like losing half of my family. “But they’ve always been so solid.”
“If Jasmine could handle standing up to your dad and dealing with Mason being a jerk before he went to rehab, they’ll be able to work anything out.”
“I guess you’re right,” I say. “None of our business anyway.”
“I did overhear one thing,” Danny says. “Lola and Mom were talking about how Jas called crying, saying how much she loves Royce, but that the stress of figuring out what they’re going to do after they graduate is overwhelming to her.”
“That would be overwhelming for anyone. Even someone like Jas,” I say. She’s pretty much the most hardworking, loving and motivated person I know. I can only imagine how she felt when Royce announced that the spotlight was going to be on our family again. I have no doubts that the media would bring her into the campaign at some point. It’s a lot of pressure. “But at least she’s going after what she wants. That’s inspiring.”
“Yeah. That’s something I’ve always admired about her.” He smiles mischievously. “But please don’t tell her that. We have a sibling rivalry to maintain.”
“You know what?” I say, filled with a rush of inspiration.
“What?” he asks.
“If Jas is committing to med school and you’re pursuing your art, then there’s no excuse for me not to commit myself to painting.”
“Let’s make a promise then,” he says, putting his arm around me. “We’ll meet once a week to share our work with each other—it will encourage us to keep going. And also it’ll be cool to hang out or whatever.”
“All right,” I said, feeling excited for the first time about my life since my conversation with Zach at the party. “You got it.”