I listened to that tape over and over again and found myself dreaming Kim’s dreams despite myself, even when I knew that Americans were never as kind as they were made out to be. But in my budding adolescence, I couldn’t help but be swept up in this union between an Asian woman and an American man, and not just any Asian woman but someone from my country I had followed since I was a child. I sang Kim’s parts along with Lea, so that her voice became my voice, and in the darkness of my room, her spirit also became mine. I too dreamed of being a woman capable of getting a rugged and kind man to fall in love with her.

When I woke up after those nights listening to that album, there was no one else I could think of but Samuel, who embodied all the qualities Kim fell in love with when she found Chris, someone unfailingly masculine who was also gentle and loyal. Samuel was the one with whom I imagined a future together, even though this too was impossible, because no one would ever love a bakla.

Though there was an afternoon that gave me hope. A pool resort called Eight Waves opened close to our town, a short drive from Samuel’s house, and the gang agreed to meet there so his father could drive us to the resort to spend the day. There were too many of us in the car, so I sat on Samuel’s lap in the front seat.

It wasn’t unusual for Samuel and me to touch; we often walked with our arms around each other’s shoulders or rested our heads together when we were tired. We were rambunctious out of our school uniforms that day, headed for an adventure all to ourselves, without parents or teachers looking after us. We were still boys who acted like boys in many ways, but that start of our independence marked the dawn of our time as men.

“Stop wiggling around!” Samuel yelled, and slapped me on the thigh.

“They keep hitting me on the head,” I replied as I tried to swat at the boys behind me.

“Can’t we just talk? I’m sure they’ll stop if you ignore them.”

“The game last night was brutal,” I said, aware of what would rile Samuel up. “Jaworski’s getting too old.”