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“The couch, now,” my dad says, cutting through the words like my mom did when she ended her call with Grace. Clearly, Grace revels in making my life miserable.

My parents sit on the opposite couch. My dad crosses his arms while my mom rubs her thumb and finger against her temples.

“Anak, it’s important for colleges to see you’re involved,” my dad says. “So many other students will be applying. It’s difficult to stand out.”

I wring my fingers together. I see my dad’s point, but if a school accepted me because I participated in opportunities that mean nothing to me, is it even the right place? I’d tell him this if I were more confident in my persuasion skills. I curl my lips inside to hold these words back.

“Anak,” my mom begins, “why would you quit?”

I breathe in and let this question rumble through my mind. There are so many reasons why I quit. It’s only now, hearing this question aloud, do the words start stirring in my throat. A montage of all the awful moments rolls through my mind—Grace giving me the “easiest job,” all the people who snapped at me because I was too slow walking them to a room, Grace getting mad at me for helping Eliza since it wasn’t a job she assigned me.

No. I won’t let Grace silence me in my own house. I quit and I’m proud of that.

“I hated it,” I say.

My parents flinch. Though my dad tenses his shoulders, I can tell, seeing him lean forward, he wants to listen. My mom’s leaning forward too, the way she does when she’s getting protective.

Everything I repressed while volunteering at WCH finally spills out. How Grace immediately decided I was useless and wouldn’t let me help. How she made me feel bad for one mistake. How I felt useless handing water to people who declined. How I was expected to work my few jobs while everyone else got plenty, enough to keep them busy.

“I felt miserable,” I say, my voice trembling, “and worthless.”

Maybe my parents will think I’m overdramatic like Tita Maricel when she sees the slightest drop of rain. Maybe they’ll think I quit for no good reason. But I said my truth. Like quitting WCH, I regret nothing.

My dad arches his eyebrows while my mom purses her lips.

“Anak,” she begins, “that’s horrible.”

I almost open my mouth to defend myself, but I catch a hint of concern and sympathy in these last words.

“I’m so sorry.” My mom hugs me so tightly I feel her warmth, her love.

“If we had known how cruel Grace was, we wouldn’t have signed you up to volunteer there.” My dad shakes his head at himself. “Anyone who treats my family like that is a terrible person.”

My shoulders relax and my heart jumps. It means so much to hear my parents take my side. Maybe they do understand me.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” my mom says gently.

Because I didn’t think they’d get it. Because I thought they would take Grace’s side like Aprilette did.

I shrug and say, “I thought I was the problem.”

“Oh, anak.” My mom hugs me tighter, and my dad joins, their embraces safe and full of love. “You could never be a problem.”

Though my heart warms, guilt stirs in my stomach. Would they think this if I told them I wanted to pursue photography not only in college but as a career?

****

The latest I can stay is an hour.

The movie starts at 8:00 PM, lasting a duration of about two hours, by my guess, anyway. I’m lucky my mom is taking me at all. As punishment for keeping my quitting a secret, I can’t stay for the whole movie. As long as I can see Jase, even for just an hour, it’s enough for me.

I told my mom that Nora would be there. Luckily, Nora’s shift ended thirty minutes before the start of the movie, and she’s more than thrilled to watch it. Especially since she gets to spy on me and guitar boy (her words).

I spot Jase standing beside the fountain, which sprouts a plume of silky water into the air. He’s talking with all his friends and, in one hand, he’s carrying a paper lunch bag. I’m not one to talk since I’ve brought along my best friend, but I was hoping Jase would show up alone since I need to explain my mom’s rules. But to my surprise, he and his friends say, “That’s fine.” There’s no hint of judgment or shock. They understand.

“Wish you could stay longer, but if you have to go, you have to go,” Jase says.

“If it were up to me, I’d stay the whole movie,” I say.