Finally Found the Words

Emilia Preston is used to multitasking-helping rotate grazing on the family farm, studying regenerative farming practices, wading through sibling chaos. She speaks her mind and holds her own.

Until her academic confidence is subtly undercut.

Do her ideas matter less because she's a girl interested in ag science-or because she's a girl with Latinx heritage? Emilia doesn't cause drama... but she might have to.

Tyler Alred clowns on the outside and stays quiet on the inside.

About the dad he barely remembers. About his mom's immigration status. About how it feels to be seen-really seen-by a girl like Emilia.

When a creative writing class pushes them to stop holding back, Emilia and Tyler start to share what they've been keeping in. Notes. Truths. Memories. Wishes.

And in the middle of basketball season, a border crossing, and one impossible goodbye-they begin to say what matters most.

What you never thought you were saying is what you meant all along.

"When you pull away," he said, "It hits that emptiness. I don't... I don't want to feel anymore loss."

That was painful to hear. I'd been so caught up in my own fears and insecurities. I reacted on feelings I didn't understand and never considered how my actions might affect Tyler.

"I..." I started, but words die on my lips. What could I have said? I felt a whirlwind of emotions-guilt, sadness, and a need to help. Tyler looked at me, eyes searching mine. I could see the vulnerability there, the raw honesty of what he'd just shared. I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"Tyler, I... I don't know what to say," I admitted, my voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "I had no idea...."

He nodded slowly, understanding in his eyes. "It's okay, Em. I didn't expect you to have all the answers."

But it's not okay, I thought. How could I have been so blind? The silence stretched between us, filled only by the pop and hiss of the bonfire. My hand was still on his arm, and I realized I didn't want to let go.

"I promise I'll work, try not to be afraid of... of closeness. I'll try not to just react. To be there for you." My voice trembled, but I pushed on. "I don't know why I'm so wrapped up in my head, I didn't realize..."

He turned to face me, his face showed both strength and vulnerability.

"You don't have to promise anything, Em," he said.

But I shook my head, felt more certain than I had in weeks. "No, I want to. You're important to me, Tyler. More than I've let myself admit."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and something in my chest fluttered. I hesitated, then added, "But I feel like you're carrying around this huge weight. You're trying to hide it from your friends. And I want to help, but I don't know how."

Tyler's shoulders slumped and I almost saw the invisible burden he shouldered, whatever it was made of.

"It's complicated," he murmured.

"You said that already," I teased. "Your friends don't need to know all the details. But let us help in whatever way you can let us in. We're here for you, all of us."