“Remember that psychology program in Florida that I applied to for fun?”
“Yeah?” I focus my gaze on her phone, hoping Achi doesn’t hear how fast my heart starts beating from reading the University of Florida offer letter.
“They answered back today that they had a slot open,” Achi says like it’s nothing. “Funny, right?”
I catch the hugeCongratulationson the letter, the part where they rave about how Jackie Ilagan was one of this year’s mostimpressive applicants, the section about getting offered funding and a scholarship. My eyes then search my sister’s. “But you’re not going…?”
“No, Nika.” She breathes out and takes back her phone. “This is me sharing. You can tell me what’s going on with you. Even the small things.”
“You sure you don’t want to share anything about your love life?”
Achi groans and signs my slip. “Don’t make me regret this.”
When I stand and make my way out of the guidance office, I catch Achi still scrolling through the letter on her phone. It’s suddenly so obvious that her applying to this program was never a joke.
I wasn’t telling the truth with Pa earlier. I don’t think my sister grew out of the dreams in her vision board.
22
Setting foot inside an all-boys school feels like getting transported to a different planet. Like, how can there be classrooms, cafeterias, libraries—but withjustboys??? How do they make sure that the place does not spontaneously combust at any moment?
The last time I was here, it was when Auntie Baby invited our family for Moseph’s grade school graduation. I still vividly remember sweating my face off since the auditorium had no air-conditioning. Imagine having a school just for boys and skimping on the air-conditioning. That’s basically creating a hot spot for body odor.
Thankfully, it’s not so stuffy inside the auditorium this time around. Or maybe my senses haven’t woken up yet since it’s early morning.
“Doo-doo-doo, dow.” Kayla attempts to sing the ad-libs of “Always Be My Baby” once again. I still have no idea how she manages to hit four different keys with each “doo” syllable, and how every one of those keys are off pitch.
Pa scribbles his feedback on the whiteboard in the room. Since he can hold things now, we discovered that he’s able to communicate with Kayla through writing. When I ask Kayla what she sees, she says it’s like watching the marker floating and moving on its own.
Kayla reads Pa’s writing on the board.You forget your breathing when you’re nervous.
“See?” Kayla then tries to shoo me away again. “Can you stay somewhere else?”
“I’ve been sitting here quietly!”
And it’s true! I’ve been keeping my thoughts about Kayla’s atrocious singing to myself… mostly.
“You’re making me forget my breathing!” she protests.
I turn to Pa for backup, but he doesn’t come to my defense. “Maybe more space can help Kayla with her process, Superstar.”
Apparently, the only person who doesn’t give Kayla stage fright is my invisible father. So I put up my hands, give Kayla some space for her “process,” and retreat to the backstage area. Unlike the soiree plan, Pa has been fully focused and committed to making this Battle of the Bands memory happen. And when we do pull this off, make Ma and Achi see Pa again, that will solve everything! Ma will forget about Dr. Derrick and Achi will forget about Florida. Win-win for my family and lose-lose for the dentist and Florida.
After I built the imaginary band, I thought that Seph would be the harder one to convince. Plot twist: Kayla’s situation was the real logistical nightmare. Since Kayla has Honesty Club meetings and church commitments going on after school, her only free time to rehearse isbeforeclass starts. I actually offered that we wing it and do the Battle of the Bands on the spot, but Kayla insisted on practicing.
“Your mom’s not going to remember your dad’s performance if we don’t make this special,” she said.
And I know I should be grateful that Kayla’s going so far as to learn how to sing for this plan, but her calling this a “performance” makesmeforget how to breathe. Because what if I’m not capable of performing anymore? What if I end up choking like last time?
I make sure the area is vacant and I’m alone when I sit in front of the abandoned keyboard behind the stage. During the past few mornings, I’ve been telling Kayla I need to catch up on homework and that I already practice a lot at home.
At least I’m better than Seph. I’m not so self-absorbed to say that “I don’t need to practice.”
In line with Moseph’s King brand of humility, Seph responded to my band invite by bragging that he’s the reigning Saint Francis champion of the soloist category: “I wouldn’t mind winning the band category too.”
In any other situation, I’d take a statement like this from Seph as an opportunity to challenge and humble him. His cockiness is how I ended up winning the better role inThe Little Mermaid.
Then I saw how simple playing the guitar was for Seph.
