Page 105 of Something in Between

“What if I’d kept saying no? What if I didn’t accept your help?” I ask.

“I’d have probably done the same thing anyway,” he says. “I should have done it earlier.”

“We didn’t know it could be this easy,” I say. “And it’s not your fault. I’m really lucky.”

“I’m lucky too,” he says simply.

My mind turns back to the millions of illegal immigrants in this country, waiting and hiding. Trying to stay in America is a game of cat and mouse, a life of working under the table, for less than minimum wage, with no way to report workplace abuses and transgressions. What happens when they get sick? What happens if they’re hurt? The sacrifice they’re making is enormous.

My story is only one of many.

I feel connected to everyone who has ever tried to move to the United States in search of a better life. Those who have sacrificed so much for the dream of a future they won’t get to enjoy—only their children will.

I feel tears welling up in my eyes, and I pledge that I will be worthy of that sacrifice.

34

The main thing is to remain oneself, under any circumstances; that was and is our common purpose.

—MADELEINE ALBRIGHT

AT SCHOOL, EVERYONEis shocked when they hear the results of the trial. Mrs. Garcia shakes her head. Coach Davis is angry. My teammates are livid. Mrs. Lopez, the school principal, pulls me aside and looks at me with sad eyes. “Deported?” she says in disbelief.

Everyone says the same thing.But you’re a National Scholar. You’re a part of the fabric of this school, this city, this country. I want to tell them that the fabric is torn. A hole has been ripped through this country. People like me pour out of it, spilling back over the borders because of the way we are all criminalized, instead of only the few who are criminals. But I keep my mouth shut about the private bill for now.

I wait a day to tell my family about my conversation with Congressman Blakely. Dad’s already contacting family members in the Philippines, planning our arrival. He looks like he has a gun to his back. We all do. We’re feeling like outsiders in our own community, in our own house.

“What’s it going to be like over there?” Isko asks. “Will it smell different?”

We’re eating dinner together. Mom has made fried rice with shrimp and chicken. I drown mine in chili sauce. Isko and Danny stuff their faces with food.

“Everything will be different,” Mom says. “You won’t be the minority anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Isko asks.

“It means everyone will be Filipino like you,” Dad says.

“But I’m American,” Isko says. “I’ll be the one talking funny.”

“You’ll look exactly like them, and for your information, Filipinos can speak English. You just don’t remember.”

Isko pouts.

Danny gives his little brother a look, the one that means all the cheerleaders will love him and not his little brother. I’m glad Danny seems to be getting out of his funk.

“Shut up,” Isko says.

Danny feigns surprise. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re doing it again,” Isko says.

“Will you stop?” Mom says to Danny. “No one wants to kiss you.”

Danny laughs while looking at Isko. “Oh yes, they do.”

I speak up. “I met with Royce’s dad.”

“He was finally in town?” Dad says, taking a last bite.

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