My heart starts beating fast against my chest. I remind myself that I have to stay cool, that I can’t let them see through me this time.

“I really want to, but my mom just texted me. She got caught up at work, and she needs me to pick up my sister from a playdate.” There—an excuse that they’ll find easy to believe, no matter how much it hurts to throw out a casual mention of Ma.

As disappointment grows on my friends’ faces, I see it more clearly than ever: There’s always been an invisible line drawn between us. Even though Adam’s grandparents are Italian and Kimmie’s mom immigrated from South Korea as a child, their families are nothing like mine, because they don’t know what it’s like to worry about deportation. Adam and Kimmie can both say that they have deeper roots in this country than I do—they’re so American. They got to be on the lucky side—the side where having your movie plans ruined is a major disappointment, and where you get to make things like boys, and friends, and achieving your wildest dreams your top priorities.

My side has always been different—it’s one where my family and I have always had to “be careful,” one where our existence has always been up for debate, where my dreams are less valid, no matter how hard I might be willing to work to achieve them.

I swallow down a knot in my throat. I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to realize this—that I was able to fool myself into thinking that I was just like them all these years. But even as these thoughts spin around in my mind, tearing me up on the inside, all Kimmie and Adam can see is the smile that I’ve made sure to keep on my face.

“I’m sorry,” I say, pushing my chair back. “I really do have to go.”

“Okay,” Adam says. He looks confused, but he doesn’t argue with me.

“Don’t overprepare for the audition,” I say to him, smiling even wider. “It’s gonna be great.”

He smiles back at me, but I try not to look at Kimmie. If she’s narrowing her eyes at me, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to answer any questions she may have about why I’m jumping up from my chair, or why I’m in such a rush to get out of here.

As I run toward the subway, I hear a familiar voice inside my mind. Quien con otros siempre se está comparando nunca sale ganando. It’s another one of Abuela’s old sayings: If you’re constantly comparing yourself to others, you’ll never win.