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I sew a smile across my face, forcing a muffled chuckle.
Aaliyah waves, and her eyes narrow to my camera. “You’re taking photos here, too?”
“Yeah,” I say shakily. From the corner of my eye, Nora’s flashing me a look that says, Don’t back down! Easier said than done. All I can do is stand where I am.
“So you’re competing in the photo contest,” Sandra says as a fact, not a question.
“I am,” I confirm.
“Cool,” Sandra says flatly, which simply translates to I don’t care. “So are we.” She points a thumb back and forth from her to Aaliyah.
“We’re going to take our photos on this bridge.” Aaliyah flashes the kind of grin that warns you to back off.
“I was, too,” I say, hoping they’d let me take my photos first.
Sandra holds a thumbs up, then turns to Aaliyah. “You ready?”
“Wanna take yours first?” Aaliyah asks her.
Sandra walks off the bridge, stepping back onto the grass, then turns back to Aaliyah. “Can you stand in the middle?”
I open my mouth, but no words spill out. I shouldn’t be surprised. Sandra’s always been competitive, refusing to back down on any photography challenge Ms. Choi holds. She usually wins, but whoever beats her to the top spot better prepare themselves for an hour worth of burning glares. I don’t think she hates me. She’s pretty indifferent to anyone who isn’t her friend.
“Hold up your camera, just like how I have mine.” As demonstration, Sandra holds her camera next to her face, smiling yearbook-photo style. Aaliyah copies her. For what feels like forever, Sandra directs Aaliyah in her posing, from asking her to stand on the side of the bridge and smile while holding her camera, to waving while leaning against the rails.
I stay where I am, and, with one hand, grip my camera tightly, wishing to lift it up and take my own photos. How long are they going to take?
“Your turn!” Sandra tells Aaliyah, and they swap places.
My teeth grit. The photo won’t be the same without any golden light. Anything brighter will require a lot more editing, and the gold won’t be there. If I’m going to take a photo about friendship, there has to be gold.
“Just let them know you have to go to your volunteering shift,” Nora says easily. “Maybe they’ll get off and give you a chance.”
I never have to tell Nora how I’m feeling or what’s bothering me. She just knows. Even when we first met, back in kindergarten, when I sat on a bench watching everyone else play, she sat beside me and talked about who she predicted would get tagged next. She could tell I wasn’t the kind of kid who liked to run around and shout “Tag! You’re it!”
Still, I stand, frozen, a gulp plunging down my throat. What if they snap at me? I think. Immediately, my mind flashes back to Eliza. I say, “Let’s just wait.”
She arches an eyebrow. “They might take awhile.”
Nora has a point, but it doesn’t stop me from standing where I am, staring with hope that they’ll leave soon. I wish they were more like Nora, figuring out what’s on my mind without me having to say anything. A few more minutes pass, and they continue taking photos.
“I think I’m going to take a few more,” Sandra says to Aaliyah. “Let’s swap again.” They trade places.
My teeth grit harder, and the grip on my camera tightens. I shift my eyes to Nora, who arches her eyebrow harder, expecting me to say something, anything to them. Another gulp. Instead of saying anything to Sandra and Aaliyah, I tell Nora, “Can you ask them if they can move off the bridge?”
Nora strides towards Sandra and Aaliyah like they’re her best friends. The four of us have shared a few AP classes together but have never exchanged anything more than “Hi” or “See ya.”
“Hey there!” Nora greets enthusiastically. I’ve always envied her social skills, how she can talk to everyone, strangers and acquaintances alike, as if she’s known them for eons. Sandra and Aaliyah swivel to her. “Emilyn has to get her volunteering shift soon, and she needs to use this bridge for a bit. Think you two can let her have a turn?”
Nora may be the one asking, but Sandra and Aaliyah now swivel to me, holding their cameras like weapons. Gulp. Heat spreads across my face, and it’s not from the sun.
“There are a lot of other spots in the park, Emilyn,” Sandra says.
It’s true. There are other great spots where I can take my photo. Like in front of the rocks along the lake’s edges, or even the pathways winding between the patches of grass. But they don’t feel right. The theme is asking what friendship means to me.
Nora narrows her eyes at me. My eyes drift back to the bridge, and Sandra and Aaliyah’s stares pierce right through me.
“We still need to take a few more shots,” Sandra says, pasting a grin on her face. I have a distinct sense that “few” is an understatement. I may be late to my shift by the time she and Aaliyah are done.