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"Is this really what you want to do, anak? You know it won't be as easy as getting in."
Raissa's mom is brushing her hair gently, looking up at her through the mirror. Her mom's eyes are unreadable, much less her tone. Raissa can only wonder if her mom sees a sliver of her youth in her only daughter, of the world she must've dreamed of changing when she was younger. The aftermath of her acceptance to Caltech had been nothing short of a whirlwind. Their neighbours had barged into their home and into her personal space as if their own children had gotten an acceptance to a U.S. college, shaking her hand and congratulating her.
Going to Caltech is a big deal; she knows that. She knew that before applying. She knew that when doing the paperwork. She knew that when faced with the interviewers who poked and prodded at her English before even asking about the scientific work she's done. As if Raissa can't speak three languages. As if Raissa didn't know what she was risking by even trying to claim her stake on an international scale, as if she didn't know what it would mean if she got the opportunity to study there.
"It is, Mom."
Her mom just hums under her breath, and Raissa can tell she's not fully convinced. On the outside, her mom is the picture of unconditional support for Caltech and Raissa's decision to study there — but she knows deep down, her mom is worried about how she'll fare. It's a different country, a different world (not to mention just how expensive it'll initially cost), but Raissa had researched. Her lifeline is preparation, research, ingenuity.
She had looked at all the books she could get her hands on about California. She had used her school's only computer to find out if there were any resources on how to save money, get jobs, and do well as a kid studying in a foreign country. She had written down everything she could find. She had plans and backup plans and backup plans for the backup plans. She had asked around her family for the relatives they had that lived in the States. Asked ahead to her Tito if she could have a job at his Asian grocery store. She would make damn sure that she wouldn't fail. Not her family. And not herself.
Her mom finishes brushing her hair, moving on to arranging the stuff on her desk. Old study guides, various physics-related books, CalTech brochures, papers scribbled on messily to remind her of things.
"You should clean up your room one of these days, ha. A little too dirty na."
"Sorry po, I think I was a little too engrossed in learning more about CalTech." Raissa shrugs her shoulders, pushing her hands deeper into the pockets of her windbreaker. Her mother clicks her tongue.
"That's exactly why I worry, anak. You are the type to get too involved with things; you start to lose sight of everything you have!"
And okay, Raissa can admit that maybe the pace is a little too fast. That all of a sudden she's going from the hills of Bohol to not even Manila, not even a country in Asia, but the whole other side of the world. She is lucky. Lady Luck had firmly fixed her gaze on Raissa's little rockets and pyrotechnics projects when she was little and announced to the world: This is the one. She'll change the world.
All things the neighbours too had said to her in various ways, as if she was Jesus coming to save them all. Raissa could only laugh. She's just a kid potentially going to America, not the Lord and Saviour. Although in such a state of their country, perhaps she can understand why they might see her as one. The most amusing thing about their neighbours was all the bills she had been handed over discreetly, as if a donation. She was eighteen, not twelve. With all the money that had been "kindly donated" to her, she and Jo could probably just travel to America on their own.
Jo.
Just the thought of her makes Raissa feel calmer. There is no Caltech, or America, or any potential aerospace engineering internships that could push through the breaking clarity Jo makes her feel. Jo, the reason why she can even have all she has. How funny that not even the promise of breaking through to space and the starry sky can overturn every memory, every mixtape, every moment with Jo.
Raissa's mom, still looking over her desk, holds out some photos with Jo that were scattered on the floor. Raissa takes them with care, already hearing the words her mom is about to say in her head.
"For example, you're too involved with Jo, ha! That girl… I admit that I am happy she gets you out of your shell, but you always get in trouble when she's around." Raissa has to stifle a laugh at this. Most of their shenanigans hadn't even been Jo's plan, but Raissa's. Really, Jo is simply an instigator for Raissa's truly unfiltered self.
"Perhaps it is good you go to CalTech because you would be away from such influence. She needs a life that is not revolving around you, anak!"
She knows her mother means well. Even when Jo and her come over with scorch marks and tattered clothes, her mom has only gently scolded them and guided them to the bathroom. Her mom knows Jo's favorite merienda is Lumpiang Shanghai. Her mom always buys take-out from Jo's part-time job. Perhaps it is because Lola died that her mother found every way to look out for Jo. Although Raissa supposes even she has her limits.
In the back of her mind, like a codename, Raissa likes referring to Jo as Sinagtala — starlight. Sinag, a beam of light. Tala, a morning star. Jo has always shone so brightly, and maybe not in the ways that would garner her the praise of the adults or even the kids in their life. Jo is artistic and creative in ways Raissa knows she never can be. Jo Yuson, the imaginative idea man to Raissa Molina's practical execution-oriented mind. That was and still is why they have, in Raissa's objective logic, the best friendship in the whole universe.
But at the same time, Raissa can understand the metaphor of starlight shining so bright that it distracts. Ever since they were little, Jo's unending charm and impulse to do crazy things have left her distracted from her studies, from being a "good" student, whatever that means. And sometimes, Raissa does worry about what life Jo sees for herself outside of the friendship they have. But Raissa likes the part of herself Jo brings out. Jo is the guiding light — the person that has always led Raissa home, to her. Jo, who, even through losing her Lola, through living all alone, can still manage to brighten Raissa's day.
Raissa can only hope she does the same for her.
"Even if she does, Mom — it's not really your place to comment on Jo. She has a job; she somehow manages to keep up her place even if she lives by herself now. That's more than I can say for myself," Raissa retorts, and her mother flinches a bit at the last part of her Jo defense. "That's why I've made the decision to study in the States."
Okay, Raissa can admit Jo is very dependent on her — but in all the things that matter, Jo is reliable and works hard. She thinks the only thing she can really wish for Jo is for her to put all her effort, love, and care into something she really loves. Something that isn't just Raissa or a shitty part-time job at a fast food chain. Raissa thinks— no, she knows Jo could be capable of so much more.
Her mother purses her lips, but she nods. "I am sorry, anak, if I was out of line. I do love Jo. I just worry sometimes about whether she holds you back from seeing a bigger picture of life."
Jo is the reason I can even believe there is more to who I am, more than what this life offers. Raissa doesn't say it aloud, but for her, it is true. Nakali Island, for instance. All those nights spent doing random things together, believing in their own world. Would she have even applied to Caltech if Jo wasn't her best friend? She doesn't think so.
Raissa was probably silent for too long, because her mother cuts into her internal monologue. "What would you even tell her about your acceptance? Paano kung hindi niya maintindihan?"
Oh wow, what a banger question. She hits where it hurts, Raissa supposes, because she is right; Raissa isn't sure how to tell Jo all this. She can already picture Jo's reaction, her tear-stricken face stitched together with a strained smile. The fiddling at their shared (and heavy) bracelet charms. The shaking of legs, the trembling of hands. Jo would have all those tells, and still find a way to say she would be happy for Raissa.
She can't find an easy way to tell Jo she's leaving. Any easy way to tell Jo she wants this, but she still wants Jo in her life. How hard could it be to say it: that she is unable to choose one at the cost of the other. Sometimes, her mom comments on Jo's selfishness. That she is selfish for wanting things to stay the same while Raissa chases opportunity after opportunity. That she should want more, the way Raissa does. But Raissa has always found it admirable how honest Jo is with what she wants in life. In truth, she thinks she is the selfish one.
She can't give up either of them. She wants to find a way to pursue science and space and the universe while still, somehow, having Jo by her side. She wants to learn about the world in ways she hasn't been able to in her little town, and still be able to come home to Jo at the end of the day. She is afraid of starting over and losing Jo, she is afraid of amounting to nothing and letting everyone down.
"Jo will understand." And Raissa genuinely does believe that. That the Jo she loves wouldn't let this come between them.
"I do not think she will." Her mother says it like a fact, planting a kiss on Raissa's forehead. "Mahal kita, Raissa. Isipin mo nang mabuti kung ano ang sasabihin mo kay Jo." She leaves Raissa's room without much more explanation, Raissa muttering a half-hearted love you too, mom while staring at the mirror and her now neatly groomed black hair. Raissa takes three deep breaths, trying not to spiral into what Jo would think, what Jo could do to stop her from leaving.
She takes her hands out of her windbreaker and looks at the charm bracelet, heavy like a crown — much like her friendship with Jo. She can't say for certain she remembers every memory attached to these charms. Her whole life, she has believed that Jo would never drag her down. That Jo could never hold her back, because how could the propulsion behind the rocket be the one to drag it down to Earth in the first place?
She looks at the picture of them, bared teeth and contagious smiles at their high school graduation. She runs her thumb over the image of her best friend's face. She pins it back on her corkboard and steps back to look at all the photos she's collected over the years. Lola had once said, kahit gaano kalayo tayo sa isa't isa, magkakasama pa rin tayo — basta kaya pa nating alalahanin.
Raissa has not been the best at remembering, and in a way she wonders if she has let Lola down. Perhaps that is why she finds it so hard to let go of Jo fully — because Jo remembers everything. Without Jo to ground her, without Jo to remain steady, she is scared that she will forget what makes her who she is. Jo is her rock, her shelter. But she is, in negative terms, the cage that keeps her from discovering who Raissa can really be. Who she is versus who she can become. She's not sure she can decide which is worthy of her full attention.
She shakes her head. It's not an offense against Jo, really. But Raissa wants California. Raissa wants a world bigger than just her and Jo. She wants to build that world specifically for Jo.
Maybe it was best for both of them — to find out who they were without the tangling of their lives and entire friendship together. That in the future, she and Jo would be stronger than ever because they made these choices. And who knows? Jo could be happier without Raissa, find a new best friend, become an artist, a writer, do everything she has wanted to do in her life without Raissa holding her ambition back. If she wasn't around, maybe Jo could let herself soar, the way she has given wings to Raissa.
Raissa… Raissa doesn't know if she could handle it; the thought of Jo soaring without her in sight, lives running parallel but never intersecting. But she has the promise of jet labs and sunny California air heeding her. Maybe that has to be enough, even if it isn't Jo.
She'll go over to Yum-Yum Bird tomorrow. She'll figure out what to tell Jo. She won't let Jo down either.
And when it's all over, when they both are finally able to soar together, Raissa can only hope that they both still remember.