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A blush glows across my face, which is probably luminant beneath this light. Happily, Jase responds with the answer I secretly want him to say.
“Yup, it sure is.”
Jaya calls for everyone’s attention, thanking them for being here. Jian and Alondra explain their process, how much it means to see a Chinese boy and a Puerto Rican girl represented in a sci-fi movie, and that this film was their senior capstone. They’re proud of it, and they hope we all enjoy.
They should be proud because the film is awesome. The two leads and their friends are baddies battling against aliens, attacking with nuclear guns and barrel-rolling and leaping in the coolest ways. Jase’s fingers brush against mine as we reach for cookies. Sometimes they feel accidental, sometimes intentional. The speed my heart flutters, it’s faster than butterfly wings.
My phone illuminates with a text from my mom—On my way. A frown wilts across my face.
“Have to go,” I whisper to Jase, so close to his ear my mouth almost touches the shell. I swear it’s unintentional.
“I’ll come with you,” he whispers, leaning towards me, mouth almost touching my ear. Intentional or not, it’s hard to tell.
My heart flutters faster. I’m blushing so hard my face probably pops in the darkness.
We duck our way out of the building, and before we step out, I mouth Sorry, got to go! to Jian and Alondra. They wave it off in an it’s-no-big-deal way and mouth Thanks for coming!
“Ooh! Study buddies!” Nora whispers a bit too loudly. Karthik, silhouetted in the darkness, covers his mouth and laughs quietly while the other three don’t hold back.
Everyone around them hisses, “Shh!”
Our friends hiss back, “Shh!”
The door swings closed, and Jase and I chuckle. Our friends are the biggest dorks.
On the way to the fountain, where my mom plans to pick me up, Jase throws away the paper bag. Couples walk past us eating hot dogs and French fries, the warm and salty smell wafting through my nose, and their flip flops scrape across the ground. The buildings are shadowed enough that their yellow paint is muted, and streetlights beam a splash of yellow on the ground and the doors. The sky is now a canvas of black sprinkled with stars. It all looks so beautiful, like I just hopped into a photograph.
“Jordan was right,” Jase says. “You didn’t say no.”
“He’s a wise boy.”
“I know, right?”
The planters, all their bricks and flowers and trees, are shadowed by the darkness, their bright colors and details nearly blacked out.
“What made you think I was going to say ‘no’?” I ask.
“I thought you were out of my league,” Jase says.
I almost wonder if I’m hearing right, or if he’s using that phrase correctly. How can I, a girl who ran away after her ice cream dropped on her foot, be out of his league?
“You did?” I say incredulously.
“I still do. You’re this smart, pretty girl who thinks deeply about everything.”
My face scorches hearing him call me “pretty.”
“I’ve worked harder after meeting you,” Jase continues. “I see how much thought and work you put into everything, and it made me think, why can’t I work that hard? Emilyn gets work done and done well. Now I try harder on all the SAT stuff and my music. Ever since we started our challenge, I’ve started to like working on my songs more, even if what I have sucks. But once I get it right, all the work is worth it.”
“It’s your passion, of course it does,” I say, smiling. Never did I think I’d inspire the musician who has inspired me. “I feel like I’ve become looser after meeting you. Before, it was all about the work. But you reminded me that I should have fun with my photography, that it’s something I love, not just something I excel in. That challenge we’ve been having, it’s made me enjoy sharing my photos. People are a lot nicer than I think, and my passion should be something I enjoy showing, even if I think my photos are weird.”
Jase smiles back, and even in the darkness, I can lock in on his dimples and gold-rimmed eyes. We stop in front of the fountain, the light bulbs attached to the planters beneath the seats painting it with light, highlighting its brick vase and now clear water.
“Your pictures deserve all the attention,” Jase says.
“So does your music,” I say. “All your songs deserve to be polished into the gems they are.”
He steps closer, and I can feel his breathing, soft and gentle like a whisper.
