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I take a few more photos from different angles, playing around with my settings and the sunlight. Once I’m done, I show them all the photos on my LCD screen, and they grin as they tell me which parts they like.

Mrs. Rivers places a plate of grapes in the middle, and we start eating. She asks me questions about myself, like my family, Freedom High School, the competition, and the SAT prep class.

“Do you have any plans after you graduate?” she asks, biting into her sandwich.

“My parents want me to major in bio,” I say half-heartedly. “They have a list of universities they want me to attend.”

“Your parents are looking out for you.”

“But if she wins this contest, she might go to this cool arts school in New York,” Jase says.

“An arts school in New York?” Jordan’s ears perk up. “That’s so cool! I bet it’s better than this boring place!”

Jordan has no filter. I appreciate that.

“Maybe you can go to Jansen when you grow up,” I say. “They have sculpting as one of their majors.”

“Yeah!” Jordan says excitedly. To Jase, he says, “I like her better than your other girlfriends!”

My lips seal as I swallow down my sandwich. Mrs. Rivers grins to downplay this awkward moment.

“Well, I’m in the mood for some soccer,” Jase says. Never have I been more thankful for a change in subject. “What do you say, bro?”

Jordan raises an eyebrow. “Are you still scared she’s going to say no? Because I don’t think she will.”

A blush scorches my cheeks. I don’t think the summer sun is to blame.

“I can kick the ball longer than you can!”

“You’re on!” Jordan says this with such ferocity I’m convinced he’ll win.

Jase and Jordan race towards the parking lot. First time meeting the Rivers family and I’ve already won his little brother’s approval. Looks like I’ve won his mom’s approval too because she beams at me like I’m a star student.

“Jordan never holds back,” she explains.

“I like that about him,” I say. “You always know what he thinks.”

Mrs. Rivers stacks the plates, crust and crumbs littered all over them, and I do the same.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “You’re our guest.”

“It’s okay, I want to help,” I say.

“You’re so sweet.”

As we head over to a trashcan standing behind a tree, its branches scaled with green leaves, Mrs. Rivers says, “So, Emilyn, you have a lot going on this summer.”

“My parents want me to score high on my SATs, and they think volunteering at WCH will look good on my college applications,” I explain as we dump everything into the trashcan.

“They’re great parents for preparing you.” On our way back to the table, Jordan kicks the soccer ball into the air, then kicks it again when it descends. Each time he kicks, Jase counts. Jordan’s so strong I can hear the Pow! every time his foot contacts the ball. As we watch, Mrs. Rivers adds, “You’re quite the hard worker.”

“I get it from my parents.”

“Wish I worked as hard as you all. I dropped out of college midway through my second year. Couldn’t handle the workload.” She shakes her head and slouches her shoulders. “Biggest regret of my life.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was my fault.”