For most of my life I’d never imagined having a crush on a boy. It wasn’t something I daydreamed about. And then last year I’d had art class with Ewan Kim, and he was nice and funny and definitely the best thing about that class. We’d started sort of hanging out, and when I was in Tokyo, he had texted me every day, sending me pictures of stuff in Bayville so I wouldn’t feel homesick. And now I was kind of crushing on him, which felt weird and nice and scary and exciting all at the same time.

Allie texted back with another tongue-stuck-out emoji. I looked at it, and then my screensaver popped up—Grandpa Soto and me with our heads together, smiling into the camera. I’d had a blast in Tokyo, just like I did every summer. My dad was born there, and Grandpa Soto still lives there, so we visit him every year.

This year had been extra fun because I’d been on special assignment for Molly’s Ice Cream, the shop owned by Allie’s mom, Mrs. Shear. Sierra, Allie, and I work there on Sundays and I handle social media for the shop on the side. Mrs. Shear had given me fifty dollars to try as many flavors as I could of Japanese soft-cream ice cream, which is basically like soft-serve ice cream here in the States, except the flavors are really different. I’d tried black sesame, soybean flour, and even miso-flavored soft cream (yes, the same miso that’s in the soup you get in sushi restaurants). That all may sound weird, but everything was really delicious. I couldn’t wait to see if Mrs. S. was going to come up with any new flavors based on my research.

The ice cream posts had been a big hit on my blog too, but frankly, I think I could post pictures of paint drying and that would be a big hit. That’s why they call me the queen of social media! And by “they,” I mean me and sometimes my friends, but I am confident that more people are going to get the hang of calling me that soon.

The school bus came to a stop, and I walked out into a scene of pandemonium. Everybody was super excited to see one another after the summer. I spotted Sierra and our friend MacKenzie and ran up to them.

“Yay, carrot shirt!” MacKenzie said. “I voted for that one.”

“Well, I voted for the purple-and-red minidress,” Sierra said. “But you look adorable in this.”

“Thanks!” I replied, and then I eyed Sierra’s look, a pleated gray-and-black skirt that fell just above her knees and a short-sleeved red sweater. Her thick, curly hair was pulled back with a black headband. “You look fabulous, Si. I need to do a blog post about fall fashion with you.”