I’m inspired by failure. The process of defeat—picking yourself back up again is the hardest thing in the world.
—LOLO JONES
“YOU NEED TO spend more time doing schoolwork,” Mom says the next Saturday night as I’m getting ready to go to Lo’s for another kick back.
“Why? What’s the point?” I ask.
Even though our family has been through a lot together, I’m starting to get bitter about the possibilities for my future. The more research I do about the success of deportation trials, the angrier I get. It turns out Mr. Alvarado was being overly optimistic about our chances.
“Quit being so angry,” Mom says. “You weren’t born in America. You’re not entitled to its privileges.”
I can’t believe she just said that to me. If that’s really how she feels, then I don’t even want to be home right now.
“You don’t get it,” I say. “I put in my hard work. I did what you told me to do. And it won’t do any good—it won’t help us stay here. Now, I finally have something in my life that you didn’t pick out for me. You can’t control me for forever, Mom. I’m already eighteen.”
“You’re with that boy all the time,” she says. “It’s not good for you to be so serious with someone at this age.”
“Are you really going to start calling Royce ‘that boy,’ Mom?”
What happened to “be careful” and trusting that I can take care of myself? It’s so dumb, because I know that she actually likes Royce. And too bad, we are serious about each other.
When Mom leaves my room, I text Kayla to see if she and Dylan are on the way to pick me up. We haven’t seen each other much, since she spends most of her time with Dylan and I’ve gotten back together with Royce. Coming in second at Regionals, we don’t have as much cheer practice anymore—mostly we just perform for basketball games—so it’ll be nice to hang out.
Kayla texts back and says they’ll be there soon. Royce is going to meet me at the party, since he’s coming from some thing he had to do for his dad. I’m excited for him to meet my friends, to see what I’m like around people who aren’t my family.
“Hey, guys,” I say, when they arrive. Dylan gives me the thumbs-up and Kayla has a huge smile on her face.
“What up, girl,” she says. “Wait till you hear their new song, it’s amazing.”
“Can’t wait,” I say. I’m a senior in high school, it’s Saturday night, and I’m going to have fun with my guy and my friends.
This kick back is much smaller than the first one we went to. Just the guys in the band and their girlfriends hanging out in the backyard, sitting in a circle around a fire pit and drinking a few beers.
I take a seat on a patio chair and drink a little beer, which makes me feel light-headed. I wish Royce would get here already, but I know that he’s going to be a while. It’s at least an hour drive for him. Maybe less, if traffic isn’t too bad and he’s driving fast like he usually does. I listen to the conversation, mostly about where the band should tour next.
I don’t say much. I’m thinking of the deportation hearing that’s coming up. If we win, we get to stay, but if we lose, we lose everything. I’ve also been thinking how frustrating it is that a law can somehow define who you are or how you see yourself. It’s like I’m somehow less of a person because I’m not in America legally.
Maybe my frustration is showing because Kayla knocks me with her foot and mouths You okay?
Dylan notices and says, “Yeah, you look bummed. What’s up with you?”
I shrug, but suddenly I find myself strangely close to tears. “It’s nothing,” I say.
“Doesn’t look like it,” says Dylan with a kind smile. He really is nice. I’m glad he’s with Kayla. “You might feel better if you talk about it.”
“Jasmine recently found out she’s an illegal immigrant,” Kayla says after taking a long pull of her beer.
I want to feel betrayed that she’s telling people my big secret like it’s no big deal, but I know better. She’s just trying to do what she thinks is good for me, and I already know she thinks I should be more open about what’s wrong. I’m actually surprised she hasn’t told Dylan yet, especially since I didn’t tell her she couldn’t.
“Undocumented,” I correct.
“Oh man,” Julian says, overhearing. “How could you just find something like that out?”
“Her parents didn’t tell her. They were too scared to,” Kayla explains.
“Man, that blows,” says Dylan. “I can’t imagine waking up one day and finding out I’m not American. That’s crazy. Are you okay? I mean, that’s a stupid question.”
Lo reaches across the circle and puts a hand on my knee. “Jas, we’re here for you. Is there anything we can do to help?”
I shake my head.
“So what are you going to do?” Julian asks, concerned.
“I don’t know,” I say. I smile weakly, but I do feel better having told them.
The back door of Lo’s house opens. Her younger brother, Eric, and Kayla’s brother, Brian, come into the backyard. Both of the boys are around Danny’s age. They’re a little bit older but go to the same middle school. Danny mentions them every once in a while, but I don’t think they hang out.
“You’ve got more guests, Lo,” Eric says.
I turn and see Royce and Mason walking up behind them.
Mason? What’s he doing here? Why would Royce bring him?
Brian walks up to Kayla and puts his arm around her. “Hey, sis. Can we hang out here with you guys for a few minutes? You and Lo are supposed to be watching us after all.”
“Yeah,” Lo answers before Kayla can. “Whatever. You guys are going to get bored soon enough. And absolutely no beer.”
I get up and give Royce a hug and introduce him all around. “Guys, this is Royce, I’ve told you all about him. And this is his brother, Mason. Royce, Mason, these are my friends,” I say, and name each of them in turn.
Lo smiles, Julian tips his beer. Dylan, Kayla and the others wave. Someone hands both the Blakely boys a beer.
I motion Royce over to my chair and he sits down so that I can perch on his lap like the other girls are doing. He leans in close to whisper in my ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring Mason, but he wouldn’t leave me alone and I didn’t want to miss the chance to see you.”
I turn and give him a half smile. “It’s all right.”
He looks relieved. We haven’t seen each other as much this week in comparison to the weeks before. Both of us do still have to focus on school. When we’re together, he’s been quiet lately. I know he’s worried about the deportation trial, and I am too. But whenever he brings it up, I don’t want to talk about it, and it makes him frustrated. He keeps offering to help, but it’s my family’s problem—my problem—not his.
Mason is soon engrossed in a conversation with Kayla and Dylan about something, and they all laugh. I think maybe for once he might actually be an okay guy.
Turns out I’m wrong.
After about an hour or so, Mason has drunk so many bottles of beer—and finished his own flask of whiskey—that he’s stumbling around the backyard. He’s talking about the crazy parties he goes to at USC and how much money he’s going to make when he sets up his own hedge fund.
I lean over to Royce and whisper in his ear. “I’m glad you came, but maybe you should take Mason home. He’s had too much to drink...”
But the younger kids, Eric and Brian, think Mason is hilarious and practically hero-worship him. They keep asking him questions about college, but in between answers that crack them up, Mason seems to be drunkenly interested in Kayla, which is obviously getting on Dylan’s nerves. He tolerates the flirting until Mason puts his hand on Kayla’s thigh. She freezes and looks at Dylan, not knowing what to do or say.
“Hey, man,” Dylan says to Mason. “Things are wrapping up here. I think it’s time to go home.”
Apparently, I’m not the only one who wants him to leave.
“Yeah,” I say, scooting off Royce’s lap reluctantly. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you guys out.”
But of course it’s not that easy.
Mason takes his hand off Kayla and sneers at me. “Oh, you’re still here? Little Miss National Scholar? Haven’t been sent back to your island yet?”
“What island?” Brian asks, as I’m trying to catch my breath.
“Treasure Island,” Mason laughs. “Wherever she’s from, it’s not America.”
“Shut up, Mason. Don’t mind him. He’s drunk and I’m taking him home,” Royce says. He looks at me apologetically, then gets up and walks over to Mason, grabbing his arm. I’m sorry, he mouths.
I nod. It’s okay. I can handle his douche-bag brother. But I’m bummed, because I’d hoped Royce and I could have some time alone tonight, and that’s not happening now. I also try not to be annoyed that he told Mason about my legal status. But I guess they are family.
“Aw, come on,” Eric and Brian whine. “Mason’s funny. Let him stay.”
Lo glares at them. Julian seems like he’s about to help her kick everyone out of the house. Kayla has a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.
Mason violently shakes Royce off. “Fine. Let’s go. Why am I hanging out with a bunch of stupid high schoolers in the middle of nowhere anyway?”
Royce shoots me an intense look full of everything he can’t say.
Strangely, even though Mason was awful, I’m glad everyone knows about me now. Royce, Millie and Kayla are right, I need to let people know what’s eating at me, what’s happening to my family. I can’t shoulder this alone. There are so many haters out there. I need to start garnering support from the people who do care about me.