Page 3 of Smile for the Camera

I almost want to say What? but instead sew my mouth shut. Maybe I should’ve seen this coming considering that my parents had also signed me up for Key Club, volunteer work at a nursing home, and events for the Freedom High School Honors Society. Still, I was hoping that SAT studies and AP homework would be my only responsibilities, the competition being the fun part of my summer. I have to sign up by tonight, but how am I supposed to participate with this much work?

“But I heard the UCs no longer require SAT scores for admission. Now they only use them for course placement,” I say. I did extra research on whether schools like UCLA and UC Berkeley require SATs for applications in hopes that I can spend less time studying for standardized tests.

My mom waves this away like it’s the silliest idea she’s ever heard. “The SATs will still be helpful. Besides, SMARTake will teach you skills that you can apply to not only the SATs but all your other tests and studies, even in your college years.”

Pretty sure my mom is directly quoting SMARTake’s “About Us” section from their official website.

“Siggi, po.” This is the only answer I can give, “Yes mom.” Aprilette would’ve replied the same way. After all, this is what our parents want—success and education. They expect me to study and finish homework first, volunteering at a hospital—a place they’re positive will hire me—also right there at the top. I can’t blame them for expecting this from me. After all, they immigrated from the Philippines to California so my Atè and I can, in their words, “embrace every opportunity the world has to offer.” It was their American Dream.

My mom kisses my forehead before walking out of my room. As I move on to the next question, I underline more key phrases, my pencil dragging across the page.

A ding! chimes from my phone. It’s a text from my best friend Nora Jimenez.

Nora: Golden Marketplace?

She adds a smiley face emoji and a chain of ice cream cone emojis.

Me: Studying.

Nora: ??????

Nora: But it’s summer

Nora: THE SUMMER BEFORE OUR SENIOR YEAR

She punctuates this last text with more ice cream cone emojis, which is only making me crave some cookies and cream.

My eyes bounce from my textbook to the window. The blinds are opened, white strips bridged across the glass, exposing my suburban neighborhood. Faded in the glass is my reflection. A Filipina girl whose eyelids are halfway closed after studying despite the school year ending. The sky is a canvas of bright blue with wisps of white clouds. Across the street, there’s a row of white and brown houses, their front yards soaked by the sunlight. Their gardens of vibrant flowers are bundled in a patch of dirt, stones bordered around them. Outside is so bright and clear. Perfect for taking photographs.

I cast a gaze at my camera, which sits on my desk, still zipped in its bag.

Me: On one condition

Chapter Two

“You’re not going to take long, are you?” Nora says. She’s sitting on the rim of a round brick planter, chin propped on her hand. Her bracelet, beaded with the colors of Mexico’s flag, dangles around her wrist and pops against her brown skin. She looks past the visor of her red Mario hat, which perfectly matches her dress. “It’s hot out here, and I’m desperately craving some birthday cake ice cream.” She flips her vines of black hair behind her shoulder.

“Five minutes max, I promise,” I say.

She gives me a look that says you-better-take-five-minutes-max before scrolling through her phone, which rings after a few taps of her screen. Based off her response—she told me the phrase is Spanish for “Yes I’m still alive, sheesh, don’t worry so much”—it must be her mom. Her parents are as strict as mine, but unlike me, Nora just shrugs off their concerns and lectures, following their rules selectively.

While Nora talks to her mom, I contemplate the subjects at Golden Marketplace, which, according to many, is the only fun spot in Sunlight, California. The place features yellow buildings that contain restaurants and clothing stores. It’s simple, yet I find Golden Marketplace ideal for photography. Two long planters curve around me like parentheses, with metal seats attached to their sides. Behind the planters are trees sprouting from square bushes. But the background—the sky and the yellow buildings—is too distracting. I turn the dial on the back of my camera and play around with my settings. Facing one side, I raise my camera, narrow my eye through the viewfinder, and lock the trees in focus. Pressing the shutter button halfway, I let my camera focus on the eye-catching parts—the green leaves feathered along the branches and the pink peonies cottoned on the tips. Click.

My next subject is the fountain sitting between the two parentheses. It’s flat and round, spraying a thick plume of water that glints beneath the one-hundred-degree sun. I walk towards the fountain, flats scraping across the brick floor, and twist the main dial of my camera. After fiddling around with my camera’s settings, I lift it back up and click.

Most people complain that there’s almost nothing to do in Sunlight. And many would describe it as hideous—from the hay-colored grass to the monstrous oil machines. But if you look hard enough, there’s also beauty to be found in our suburban town. For instance, across the fountain, there are colorful pansies blooming inside a row of circular planters. I hover my camera over the purple batch, but right as I’m about to take another photo, my mom calls.

“Emilyn, I’m about to cook dinner,” she says. “Come home as soon as you can.”

“Can I stay for one more hour, po?” I ask. “I really want to take photos of all the beautiful flowers here.”

A pause hangs between us. “Well, have you started on your summer AP homework?”

My mouth hangs open, but no words spill out.

“Anak, you have a lot of work to do. Colleges look at your grades from senior year too.”

I dwell on everything she says, and I clutch a wad of my hair like I’m taking the first step to yanking it out. “I’ll buy ice cream, then I’ll come back home.”