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Jase starts with a gentle strum of chords, the melody slow. As the song crescendos, he thrums with a succession of staccatos, quick like when I press down the shutter button for multiple photos. I clasp my hands tighter together, and my lips curve into a smile. The beat of my heart flutters with the song. Maybe I’m absorbed in the melody, or maybe music sounds different when you’re watching it up close, by yourself, but “passion” feels like a song you hear on an album, finished and polished. Jase finishes with a light stroke, the song ending with a ring of harmonizing strings.

“Wow,” I gasp, “that was beautiful.”

His face brightens, and he looks touched. “Thanks. It’s the first song I ever finished.”

“I knew it sounded complete! It’s my favorite of yours. So far.”

He grins and looks down, a blush tinting his face. “I had the perfect inspiration.”

“Your dad?”

His eyes climb to mine, locking them in focus. “You.”

A spark tingles through my body. That first day I saw him, I wanted to ask him what songs his band was performing. Now he’s written one for me.

“Really?” I want to say more but only manage this.

He nods, arm touching mine as he scoots closer. “I hope you can become a photographer. You have this passion no one else has.”

The spark tingling through me grows stronger. He believes in me. I lay my hand on his wrist, curling my fingers around it. “I hope you can perform on bigger stages, in bigger venues. Not just to make your dad proud, but to make yourself proud.”

Who leans first, I’m not sure, with my camera hanging around my neck and him holding his guitar, we kiss with the same passion we see in each other.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Nora’s right. Summer is about having fun.

Since quitting WCH, I start my days shooting photos of neighborhood walls, zooming in on the bricks and the trees lined along the sidewalk. During Nora’s lunch break, we watch a few anime episodes, laughing loud enough that people nearby glance at us.

Afterward, Jase and I exchange a few songs and photos, then hang out at Skate State. Upon entering, the place is splashed cherry red from the ceiling lights, everyone skating across the floor or eating snacks at the tables. We slip as soon as we step onto the floor. Jase tries to pull me up with both hands, only to slip again. I do the same, legs wobbling before I slip back down. We continue our little slip dance as people stare at us, like watching two people fail to rollerblade at Skate State is a sight you can’t ignore. More attention flies our way when we burst into laughter. Jase holds my hands and presses his thumbs into my palms. Instead of pulling me up, or more accurately failing to do so, he kisses me. There we are, flopped down in the middle of Skate State, kissing after a million failed attempts at rollerblading.

I even do the one thing I never thought I’d do—lie to my parents. Nora and I coordinate a plan, one I devised, to tell my parents we’re taking practice SAT exams on our own. I explain this is extra practice that wouldn’t involve a teacher. Nora and I would take the tests and time ourselves, then compare our answers.

“I like where you’re going with this, anak,” my dad replies.

“You’ll be so prepared,” my mom says, squeezing my shoulder.

Once Nora and I leave the neighborhood, we hang out with Jase and his friends. Nora, Hannah, and I even attend a few K-pop listening parties. I always wanted to go to one, but they were usually at night. I want to enjoy myself, my summer, so why limit the fun to just the daytime?

Jase and I also go on dates that make the summer more magical. On one date, we see his favorite local band at one of their gigs. Near the end, when the band performs slower songs, Jase envelops me in his arms. I can smell the wood of his acoustic guitar, and as I rest my head on his shoulder, the two of us swaying to the lead singer’s powerhouse voice, it feels like the best dream I could ever live. I even watch Jase compose a few songs as we share a box of Polvorón.

The week gets even better when I receive a perfect score on my make-up test. My mom claps while my dad grins proudly.

“You can drive on your own again,” he says.

Thank goodness. It was getting really difficult asking my parents or Nora to take me everywhere.

“I think this deserves a celebration,” my mom says.

“I would love that,” I say.

“The timing’s perfect,” my dad says. “We’re going to be in San Francisco for the rest of the week.”

Dread plunges into my stomach. “What do you mean, po?”

“Ava completed her grad program, so your Tito Rommulo and Tita Aurora are throwing a party,” my dad explains. “It’s tomorrow.”

“We’ll be visiting your Atè before then,” my mom adds, grinning widely. “We’re going to spend the weekend with her. She wants to show you the best universities in NorCal.”