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There’s a vibrance of love on the smile glowing across Gavin’s face. “And you’re willing to make us work?”

Marcos’s fingers intertwine with Gavin’s shaking fingers as he lifts their hands in the space between them. “Of course. I’ll always support your decisions and your dreams.”

Marcos and Gavin close the space between them with an embrace and a kiss. These two are truly couple goals. My eyes drift to my camera’s viewfinder. I wish my parents could support my dreams the way Marcos supports Gavin’s dreams. But then again, Marcos isn’t paying for Gavin’s education. Maybe if I win this competition, my parents will see how much photography means to me, especially since they won’t be burdened with financially supporting me. Maybe they’ll allow me, or better yet encourage me, to pursue it as a career.

“Wait, where’s Emilyn?” Marcos says.

I step into their line of sight like I’ve been caught in a game of Hide and Seek. “I’m here.”

“Nosy,” Marcos teases.

“She helped me practice breaking the news to you,” Gavin says.

I demonstrate all the different Marcoses I acted out to the real Marcos. He guffaws as loudly as the little kid playing with his family on the opposite side of the lake.

“Some of those were good,” Marcos says with a laugh. “Some needed professional training.”

I roll my eyes and laugh. “That’s why I’m behind the camera, not in front of it.”

“And I owe you one.” Gavin nods to my camera.

Before arriving at Serenity Park, I wasn’t sure how I wanted Marcos and Gavin to pose. My mind flashes to the moment Marcos affirmed he’ll make his and Gavin’s relationship work, when they were holding hands in the space between them, their fingers interlaced.

As I instruct them to do just that, they follow, their eyes locking onto each other just as my lens locks them in focus.

While the trees on the opposite side are beautifully verdant with green leaves soaked in sunlight, I alter my settings until Marcos and Gavin are the only ones in focus.

Click!

With every shot—some where they smile while still locking eyes, others where they gaze over at the lake—it takes one look at their faces to know what they’re telling each other. I trust you. As I shoot more photos—click! click! click!—I think back to how Gavin and Marcos say, really believe, that they’ll make their relationship work no matter how many miles separate them. Not only do they trust each other, they trust themselves too.

“Perfect, thank you both so much!” I say.

“Of course!” Marcos says.

“Thank you,” Gavin says, appreciation highlighted in his eyes.

“It was all you,” I say. “I’m just glad I could help.”

“Which you did, a lot.”

The three of us head back to the parking lot, our sneakers rustling through the grass, the summer heat seeping into my clothes and hair. Gavin’s phone rings with a call, and when he answers, I hear his dad on the other line.

Marcos’s eyes shift to my camera. “Emilyn, I’m impressed! You handled that camera and gave us directions like a pro!”

A shock of joy jolts through me. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’d pay you hundreds to take my headshots.”

Marcos and Gavin wave goodbye as they head over to Gavin’s car.

On the way home, a BINI song fills my car with upbeat Tagalog lyrics, and when I stop at a red light, I think about the last words Marcos told me. Maybe I can trust myself?

Chapter Sixteen

The next four days are whirlwinds influencing how I write my presentation. As usual, I have my homework checkups and practice quizzes with my parents, which are just an hour-and-a-half each but drag on as long as my SAT classes. Whenever I finish everything, I stay up late to either edit my photo or work on my presentation. On the good days, I write my presentation more confidently, with specific details I’d be proud to present to an audience of strangers.

On the bad days—at WCH, I still hand out cups of water while the other volunteers swamp themselves with work—I get stuck, either blanking on what to write or re-writing and erasing, repeating the process until pencil erasures smudge the page.