Page 39 of Smile for the Camera

“It’s important to be consistent, anak,” my mom says. “You have to keep studying and showing all your work.”

“It’s not just about consistency,” my dad adds. “It’s also about improvement.”

“Siggi, po.”

My dad concludes, “Tomorrow, after you eat breakfast, I’ll quiz you again, see if you can retain everything we talked about tonight.”

I was planning to spend all of tonight and tomorrow morning practicing my presentation. But instead of negotiating with him and my mom, who approves of his additional study hours, I respond with the one answer that seems programmed into me since birth.

“Siggi, po.”

The study session takes two hours too long to finally end. My parents kiss me good night before heading into their room. Even though my door is closed, I still clamp my hands over my mouth as I let out the yawn I’ve stuffed down since the study session. It could pass as me being tired, but I worry that my parents will catch the boredom I hid when they worked so hard to help me study.

The time on my phone flashes to 10:00 PM, the hour my parents expect me to sleep. Usually, I would, but I haven’t had time to practice my presentation. I’ve written my notes on a flashcard so I can practice out loud.

Since I’ll need to show my photos to the judges, I decide to practice my presentation with the photo for this week. I head towards my desk and on my laptop, I open Photoshop and export my friendship photo into my workspace. The sun gleams a warm yellow and rims around Nora’s waves. It looks like she’s walking towards me, ready to disagree with whatever Aprilette said. It’s nighttime now, but as I lean forward, zooming in on all the soft and warm light, I escape out of my house. In my photo, I’m back to earlier today, where it’s golden hour, and I’m smelling the fresh grass and listening to Nora’s goofy comments. I laugh remembering how we videobombed that grumpy dad while he was recording his concerningly aggressive son. I feel free.

Until I notice the Star Lakes sign, planted in the grass like a scarecrow with a white square for its head and a bare stick for its body, sticks out in the background.

Guess I was so focused on getting the dad and son out of the frame that I didn’t notice the sign, and nothing about it screams friendship. I drag the Photoshop lasso around the sign, select fill, then click OK on Content-Aware. The blur vanishes, but I accidentally cut off part of Nora’s hair. A groan bursts out of me.

Suddenly, a knock knock knock raps against my door.

“Anak, is everything okay?” Of course my mom wakes up two minutes later just to check on me. My groan must’ve been too loud.

“Yeah, just got frustrated with this problem I wanted to solve.” It’s not completely a lie. I am trying to solve a problem. It just pertains to my photo, not a problem from my AP Bio textbook.

“Tulog ka na. You worked hard today.”

“Okay, good night, Mom!” I’ll go to sleep, just like she’s asking. Just after I’m done editing my photo.

Maybe one more hour.

I grab my laptop from my desk, cloak myself with my blanket, and resume editing the photo. The screen gleams against my face. I see the field of little white balls from my blanket’s wool, all of it soaked in blue and white light from my laptop. Slowly, slowly, I drag the lasso around the sign.

There are footsteps in the hallway. I freeze like a gloss photograph, my fingers hovering over my keyboard. My heart races, and I’m ready to close my laptop in case my parents enter. The footsteps head to the left, fading as they step farther away.

Now’s my chance.

Fill.

OK on Content-Aware.

Poof, the sign vanishes.

I really should be practicing my presentation. But I won’t mean every word if I’m not proud of the photo I’m presenting. My finger runs along my mouse pad like it’s free, following no one’s rules but its own, just like me when I was out taking this photo, my parents unaware I started off my day with my camera.

My eyes lock onto my screen as I continue editing, adding layers and adjusting the brightness and shadows. It doesn’t feel like I’m in my room anymore. Instead, I’m back at Star Lakes, taking my photo of Nora at the bridge, my feet sinking into the grass. It’s not until I grow tired that I finally look at the time. An hour and a half later, I study my fully-edited photo.

One more hour.

Chapter Thirteen

My fingers tremble, index card pinched in one hand and photograph pinched in the other, as I practice my presentation quietly.

I woke up this morning slouched over my laptop, the screen pitch black and tilted forward, and my blanket was still cloaked on my back.

“Hay naku,” I muttered. I rubbed my hands against my face, muttering “hay naku” a million times because I stayed up late editing my photo. Not spending a second practicing my presentation. When my mom called me over for breakfast, I muttered “hay naku” a million more times to get it out of my system. I didn’t want my parents to wonder why I was saying “oh my” in Tagalog in case I slipped. Only after my dad left for work, my mom heading out for groceries hours later, was I able to print my photo. That left me little time to drive to Blossoms, and no time to practice the presentation I have in two minutes.