Page 67 of Something in Between

“Royce! That’s awesome! Congratulations! Aren’t you excited?” I say, and I’m happy for him, but the feeling is both joyous and bittersweet, hearing that he’s gotten something I want so badly.

“Yeah, I am. Mostly I’m relieved. Probably helped that my dad knows the chancellor,” he says.

“You’re just being modest, stop! You deserve this.” He really does; he works so hard. Maria told me, when I was over once, that he’d won some fancy writing award at his school. He never makes much of his accomplishments like I do mine.

So that’s why he drove out to see me that day—he wanted to tell me his good news in person, and he never even got to. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to tell me earlier.”

“It’s okay,” he says, and I know he means it. “Hey, do you think your parents would let you come and visit?” he asks, hope in his voice. “We’re here for another week. I know you don’t know how to ski, but you’ll pick it up quickly—you’re so coordinated.”

“That’s so sweet. But probably not. Filipino Christmases are sort of a big deal. We go to Midnight Mass and then we eat salty ham and drink hot chocolate—the thick Spanish kind.”

“Man, that sounds nice.”

“Yup.”

“Well, what about after Christmas? We’re here till New Year’s.”

“I wish I could, but I can’t,” I whisper. “My parents aren’t like yours. They’re not going to let me stay with my boyfriend out of town somewhere.”

For a while, neither of us says anything.

Then, “Hey, Jas, I’m really sorry about what I said about the reform bill. You believe me, right?” His voice is low and sad.

I think about it. If I didn’t believe he was sincere, I wouldn’t be talking to him now. “I do.”

“I thought about it, about what it means that it didn’t pass,” he says. “I never realized how much stuff like that affects people. To my family, it’s just my dad’s career. But it’s your life.”

“Yeah.” I press the phone closer to my ear, blinking back tears. I can hear how much he cares about me, and I wish I’d told him earlier. I was so lonely without him to lean on.

“So what are you guys going to do now? You don’t have to leave, do you? That would be crazy. You can’t leave, even if you’re illegal.”

“Undocumented,” I snap. “I hate that other word.” Even though I use it myself all the time, but for some reason, I want to correct him.

“Sorry, sorry. My bad.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I’m so sensitive. Anyway, in answer to your question, we’re going to meet with a lawyer, see what our options are.”

“I want to help,” he says. “Anything I can do, just ask, okay? I can even talk to my dad. He might know how to help. He knows a lot of people.”

I inhale sharply. Wasn’t this exactly what I was afraid of?

“He wouldn’t report you, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re my friend,” he says, trying not to sound too defensive.

“I know, I believe you, but I think we should keep him out of it for now, okay?” I say.

“Okay.” He can tell I don’t want to talk about it anymore. “I hate skiing anyway, did I ever tell you?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “It’s too cold and Mason always beats me down the hill.”

I laugh, thinking of Royce trying to catch up to his older brother.

“So we’re good now?” he asks softly.

“We’re good. Come home,” I say, and my voice betrays the yearning I feel inside.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” he promises.

20

I look forward to an America which will not be afraid of grace and beauty.

---