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I feel a gulp drop down my throat. If I tell my Atè about the competition, she’ll tell our parents, and they’ll cut me off from participating. I fumble through my mind for the best answer to give her, one that doesn’t spill any details about the competition, and pick the first thing that comes to mind.

“There’s a cute guy in my SAT prep class.” The words slip out of my mouth without me thinking, and I don’t know why or how they did. Now that they’re out, I’m already wishing I can delete them the way I can delete a photo off my camera. Instant, leaving any evidence or memory of it out of sight.

A smirk breaks across Aprilette’s face, Mona Lisa but with a mischievously curious look. “Really? Tell me more!” Of course, when the subject involves a boy, especially a handsome one, my Atè wants all the gritty details. She presses her hands together in a V, resting her head between them, and leans forward enough it looks like she’ll come through my screen. It’s embarrassing, but I got myself into this mess.

Shrugging one shoulder, I reply, “He’s cute.”

“What else?” The smirk on her face cracks higher, a pink snake on a perfect, brown face.

“I don’t really talk to him, Atè. I’ve only known him for a day.” The embarrassing ice cream incident doesn’t count. “How about we just go back to studying?”

“Someone’s getting a little shy,” Aprilette sings each syllable, an angelic hymn. “Come on, Emi. I need the details. Hair color, eye color, what’s he like in class.”

Of all things I could’ve told her, it had to be about a boy I barely know.

“Blond hair, blue eyes,” I tick off each answer with an annoyed voice. “And he only answers when he gets called on.”

“Well, what does he say when he gets called on?”

“Atè.” I groan.

“I’m just trying to get a clear vision of him. If I’m going to visualize this blond hair, blue-eyed guy who answers when he gets called on, I need to know what he says.”

A sigh escapes me. “All he says is an answer.” Judging by her largening eyes, which narrow to mine, I know she wants more. “The one time he got called on, he was wrong.”

The curiosity on her face slightly vanishes. “So, maybe he’s not the smartest person in the class?”

If she were there that day, seeing Jase come to an SAT class without a notebook or pencil, I’m sure she’d detect even more flaws. Again, this is more information I withhold. I still feel sorry for Jase after Mr. Daniels humiliated him in front of the whole class. Jase may not be here, but no one deserves to be made fun of by so many people, even behind their backs.

“He was put on the spot,” I say, suddenly defending him.

“Emi, you’re so nice,” Aprilette says like it’s a weakness more than a strength.

“I’m just saying. Maybe he’ll get the right answer next time.”

She nods once, doubt flaring across her face. Not fair, Atè. So not fair. “Anything else?” she asks hopefully.

“He’s also a guitarist.” Why I tell her this detail, I have no clue. These words just slipped out of my mouth. The fact that Jase is a musician makes him more attractive to me.

The curiosity that’s been painted on Aprilette’s face has completely peeled off, a blank canvas with no interest. “A musician.” The words come out dryly.

“You used to like musicians.”

“Yeah, used to. Don’t count all those guys in emo bands I used to like. It was a phase.”

I smirk at this. “Sure, it was.”

“Shut up, kulit.” She leers at me. Whenever Aprilette calls me the Tagalog word for annoying, I can’t help but snicker. Little sister has done her job. “Anyway, those guys were just fantasies. This one...”

Three knocks rap against my door.

“...is a really tough word, so try to practice it more,” Aprilette covers up.

“Come in, po,” I call from behind.

The door creaks open and my dad pokes his head into my room. “Kumusta, neneng!”

“Kumusta, Dad!” Aprilette greets as if she weren’t spending the last five minutes grilling me on a boy.