by Sabina Khan
I took the bowl from her with one last glare and trudged out of the kitchen. Upstairs, I set the food down on the desk in front of Aamir.
“Mom sent this up for you. She didn’t want to bother you when you’re working so hard.”
Aamir looked up from his book. “I’m sorry, Rukhsana. I did try to help,” he said. “Mom can be so ridiculous sometimes.” He stood and walked over to me.
“Here, you can have some of my rice pudding.” He held out a spoonful, just like he used to when we were little and I wouldn’t finish my food. Even though he was two years younger, most of the time he acted like a protective older brother. I couldn’t help smiling at him as I ate the pudding. He always knew how to make me feel better.
* * *
I washed my hair twice in an attempt to replace the smell of the spices with vanilla and jasmine. After straightening my hair, I pulled out a clean black top from my closet. I never understood why people were always telling me to wear lighter colors. Even though I knew they popped against my brown skin, I was way too comfortable in my dark clothes. I did go all out in bright colors for Bengali functions, though, because even I wasn’t immune to the glamor of desi fashion.
I loaded a backpack with my black strappy heels, makeup, and body spray, pulling on a different oversized hoodie and throwing my hair into a messy ponytail. Before heading downstairs, I shoved my cosmic spiral earrings into my jeans pocket.
“Bye, Mom, I’m leaving,” I called out.
I didn’t wait for her answer as I stepped into the cool Seattle evening. Jen lived just a couple of streets down, so I could walk there in less than five minutes. I felt a tiny pinch of guilt about lying to Mom. If it were up to her I’d never step out of the house. My mother had missed the memo that this was the twenty-first century and I was a senior in high school.
* * *
I heard the squeals as soon as I got to Jen’s front door.
I had to knock loudly a few times before she opened it, her blue eyes sparkling. “’Bout time,” she teased.
“Tell me about it,” I said as I entered. “Is that Rachel screaming?”
Jen nodded. “Cody’s on the phone. He says he’s coming to the party.”
“Is Ariana here already?” I slipped off my sneakers and placed them against the wall.
“She just got here. Everyone’s upstairs.”
Jen’s room looked like the aftermath of a tornado. Clothes strewn about on the bed, shoes scattered on the floor, and the top of her dresser was a veritable crime scene. When I took off my hoodie, Rachel whistled at me.
“Does your mom know what you’re wearing, young lady?” she asked with mock sternness.
“Are you kidding?” I grinned back at her. “If it were up to her I’d be wearing a burqa whenever I go out.”
“But then I wouldn’t be able to see your beautiful face,” Ariana said as she exited Jen’s bathroom.
She was breathtaking, wearing a short blue dress that matched the color of her eyes. We’d been together for six months now, but every time I saw her I still got butterflies. I walked over and kissed her softly on the lips.
“Gross. Get a room, you two,” Rachel said with a grin.
“Preferably not mine.” Jen rolled her eyes.
“You guys are just jealous because I have the hottest date for the party,” I said, making a face at both of them.
“No, Rukhsana,” Ariana said overdramatically, her hands on her heart. “I have the hottest date to the party.” And with that she spun me around into a complicated dip and I promptly fell out of her arms and onto a pile of Jen’s laundry on the floor, causing everyone to burst out laughing.
Rachel composed herself first. “Ariana, I think you’ve been watching too many Bollywood movies with Rukhsana.”
“Just practicing my moves for the dance, you know,” Ariana said, her eyes full of laughter. “Gotta keep up with this one, right?” she said, gesturing to me.
“Well, make sure you keep practicing,” Jen said. “And now that it’s officially settled that you guys are the cutest couple, can we go? We’re already late, thanks to Miss I-Couldn’t-Get-Out-Of-Kitchen-Duty here.” She grinned at me and Ariana affectionately as we filed out of her room.
* * *
“Have your parents said anything more about letting you drive?” Rachel asked as the car stopped at a red light. Rachel, Jen, and I had been friends since elementary school, so they knew all about my usual family arguments.
“I’m pretty sure my brother will have his license before I do,” I said bitterly. “According to my parents, I don’t really need to drive since they can take me everywhere I need to go.”
“Rukhsana, just remember, before long you and I will be out of here and living it up in sunny California,” Ariana said, just as Jen turned onto Caitlin’s street.
“Only if I tell my parents that I applied to Caltech. I’m not looking forward to that conversation.” Jen’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror and I grimaced.
“Rukhsana, you’ve only been talking about being a physicist since forever,” Jen said, her eyes back on the road. “You have to tell them.”
Ariana put her arm around me and squeezed gently.
“Don’t worry,” she said with a grin. “We’ll make a Plan B just in case.”
The party was in full swing when we arrived, and Jen and Rachel immediately went off in search of Cody. The patterned bass of some dubstep remix reverberated in my chest as Ariana laced her fingers with mine. We were consumed by the music, and Ariana pulled me into her arms.
“Dance with me,” she said.
As we swayed with the rhythm, the rest of the world fell away. She nuzzled my ear and kissed my neck, and my body tingled from head to toe. I had no idea how long we danced together like that or when one song ended and a new one began. All I knew was, this moment in time, this place right here? Pure heaven.
“Wanna get something to drink?” Ariana yelled over the din of the music.
I nodded and we began to make our way to the kitchen, weaving through the thrashing sea of bodies.
Rachel was there, her face slightly flushed and her usually perfect hair a little tousled.
“Umm, guys, you’re not going to believe what just happened,” she said, grabbing the cup Jen was holding out to her.
“I think we have a pretty good idea, Rachel,” I said, grinning at her as I reached over to smooth down her hair.
“Well?” Ariana said. “Are you going to tell us?”
While Rachel gushed about Cody and his make-out skills, I stole a glance at my watch.
Crap. How did it get so late?
If Mom or Dad decided to walk over to Jen’s and check up on me, like they did sometimes, I was dead.
“Jen,” I said, panic tightening my throat. “I have to get home. Could you drive me, please?”
“Already?” Jen’s voice had taken on a whiny tone.
I drew a deep breath. “C’mon, you know what my parents are like. If they find out I’m at a party, I can kiss Caltech goodbye.”
“Fine.” Jen grabbed her car keys out of her purse and handed them to me. “Just let me go tell Caitlin that I’ll be back after I drop you off.”
“Okay, I’m going to go change really quick before we head out.” I went outside and grabbed my backpack from the back seat of Jen’s car before going back in to find the bathroom. I scrubbed my face until there was no trace of my fierce dark red lipstick and black eyeliner. I put on my hoodie and tied my hair back up in a ponytail, hoping Mom wouldn’t notice that it wasn’t in its usual state of uncontrollable frizz. I doused myself in jasmine body spray just in case. Hopefully she’d be half-asleep when I got back and wouldn’t pay attention. Ariana was waiting for me by the front door when I was done reverting back to my mother-approved self. She had that look she got every time I bailed on my friends to make it home before curfew. I quickly kissed her, said my goodbyes, and walked out before the guilt pulled me back in.
It was just af
ter eleven, way past my ten thirty curfew, by the time Jen pulled into my driveway.
I entered as quietly as I could but wasn’t surprised to see Mom waiting up for me in her favorite recliner in the family room.
“Good, you’re back. I was about to wake up Daddy to go over to Jennifer’s house and bring you home.” She stood and stretched. “Are you hungry? There’s still rice pudding left. I saved you some before Aamir finished it all.”
I shook my head. “I ate at Jen’s house. But don’t let Aamir eat the pudding. I’ll eat it tomorrow.”
She smiled indulgently. “You look tired. Look at those dark circles.” She kissed my forehead before tucking my hair behind my ears.
“I’m going to go to sleep now. Good night, Mom,” I said as I walked up the stairs.
“Good night, ammu.”
My heart hammered in my chest as I unpacked my backpack, stashing my heels in the back of the closet and returning my makeup to the bathroom. I hid the forbidden red lipstick in my junk drawer, making sure it was impossible to find in all the other clutter.
At school on Monday, Rachel, Jen, and I waited for Ariana to come out of band practice.
“So were your parents mad that you came home late on Friday?” Rachel asked. She was wearing her basketball jersey, all ready to leave for a game after lunch.
“No, I don’t think my mom realized how late it was,” I said.
“I told you it would be fine,” Jen said. “You were just panicking for nothing.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but then I spotted Ariana coming out of the band room and waved her over. I would have to talk with Jen later. Lately she’d been a little dismissive about my concerns and it was bugging me.
“Hey, guys,” Ariana said, a little out of breath after fighting her way through the hallway crowd. “Ready for lunch?”
* * *
When I arrived home from school Dad’s dark blue Toyota sat in its usual spot in our driveway. My anxiety took over and I immediately started thinking the worst.
Why is he home so early? Did he and Mom find out about Friday night? I thought I was careful. Did they find out about Ariana?
My legs trembled, threatening to give out at any moment. I found Mom and Dad sitting at the kitchen table. Aamir was there too. How did he always manage to get home before I did? The light coming through the window reflected off the wood veneer on the dining table, casting a soft glow around them.
“Good. Madam is finally home,” Mom said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. It was never a good sign when Mom called me that. It meant she thought I was being too clever for my own good. My eyes fell to the pile of opened mail in front of them.
“Rukhsana, what is the meaning of this?” Dad waved a letter in front of my face. I took it from him, my brow furrowed in confusion. As I skimmed the letter, a smile shattered the anxiety that had been building inside me.
Mom threw her hands in the air and shook her head. “Look at your daughter, Ibrahim. Smiling as if she has won the lottery.”
“Actually, I kind of did,” I said. I couldn’t stop smiling. It was an acceptance letter from Caltech stating they’d awarded me a full academic scholarship.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were applying?” Dad asked.
“Forget about all that. What makes you think we will let you go?” Mom’s voice shook ever so slightly.
Mom had made it abundantly clear more than once that she wasn’t going to let me go out of state for college. The last time I’d brought it up hypothetically, she had asked me why I needed to go away from home to get an education. She’d brought up her friend’s daughter who attended the University of Washington. If it was good enough for her, then it should be good enough for me.
That was reason 34 of 62,372 I decided not to tell my parents that I’d applied to Caltech. I hadn’t expected to get in, much less get a scholarship. At least now she couldn’t use money as an excuse.
“I’m getting a full ride.” Sheer joy and relief bubbled through every pore in my body. “You don’t have to pay for anything.”
“But it’s in California,” Mom said.
Yes, hence the name Caltech.
“California …” Dad’s voice trailed off as he pondered this concept. “That is very far away.” It finally dawned on him. “How will you get there?”
By plane, train, or automobile?
“Rukhsana, why are you talking about such strange things?” Mom said.
Umm, I don’t know. Because I want to have a life?
“Mom, it’s an amazing opportunity. Mr. Jacobs said a lot of people apply for a scholarship to Caltech. I’m lucky to get one.” My voice had risen several octaves and yet Mom looked completely unimpressed.
“Who is this Mr. Jacobs? Is he Bengali? Does he know that we don’t send our unmarried girls across the country?”
My counselor, Mr. Jacobs, was not Bengali. I was pretty sure he was from the Midwest. And no, he did not share my parents’ views on unmarried girls.
“Mom, you met Mr. Jacobs last year, remember? He’s the one who told you Aamir was failing math and science.”
“Hey,” Aamir protested, his mouth full of samosa. “I didn’t fail. Mr. Jacobs just hates me.”
“Yup, that’s it. It’s all Mr. Jacobs’s fault,” I said in mock agreement. Classic Aamir, always blaming everyone else.
“Aamir is a very intelligent boy,” Mom said, raising her hands in anticipation of my usual verbal onslaught. “It’s not his fault that his brain cannot wait for everyone else to catch up.”
“Zubaida,” Dad interjected. “You have to admit, our Rukhsana is also brilliant. Caltech is a very good school.”
Mom shook her head and put two more samosas on Aamir’s plate.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “At least someone in this house thinks I can do more than cook.” I snagged a couple of samosas before they were all gone.
“Rukhsana, your mother just wants you to be taken care of after you are married. You know how difficult it was for us when your mother and I first moved to this country,” Dad said, his eyes glazing over with that faraway look he always got when talking about the past.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Daddy, I know. I’ve heard this story a hundred times before.”
He ignored me.
“We arrived here with practically nothing except the clothes on our backs, a small suitcase, and some cash my brother had loaned us.” He turned to Mom. “Remember, Zubaida, that first table we bought?” He smiled as their eyes met, heavy with secrets from a time before I existed.
“Yes, how can I forget?” Mom said. “It was blue, a small card table really, but it was all we could afford at the time.” She turned to look at me.
“When you came along, Rukhsana, everything changed,” she said, her tone softening as she remembered.
Dad touched my cheek gently and I placed my hand over his.
“Suddenly nothing was good enough,” Mom said. “Your daddy worked two jobs just so he could buy you everything. But then we talked to your Uncle Maruf.”
“It was his idea to start a business of our own,” Dad said.
Mom got up to make some chai. I stood, intending to help, but she motioned for me to sit while she continued to reminisce.
“He told us the Bangladeshi community needed a local shop where they could buy hilsa fish and jackfruit and panch phoron,” Mom said.
“And he wasn’t wrong,” Dad chimed in. “The store did well right from the beginning.”
They fell quiet for a minute until the sound of water bubbling on the stove broke the silence.
“This is why I am very proud of you, Rukhsana,” Dad said. “I never managed to get a degree, but my daughter will.”
“That is all good,” Mom said. The kettle whistled and she turned off the stove. “But why does she have to go so far away? Let her be brilliant nearby. What is wrong with UW?”
Nothing at all, except it isn’t Caltech.
“UW doesn’t have a good physics and a
stronomy program, Mom.”
“Imagine”—Dad looked at Mom with a broad smile—“our daughter, a physicist. Or maybe even an astronaut.” His eyes glistened with pride.
Mom’s eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline. “What will you do with a degree in astronomy, hanh? Will you climb into a spaceship and fly off to Jupiter?” She shook her head and looked at my dad. “Ibrahim, please talk some sense into your daughter.”
What I wouldn’t give to be on Jupiter right now.
“Okay, Rukhsana, we’ll talk about it,” Dad said. “There is still plenty of time.”
Mom poured chai into three cups and placed them in front of us.
Dad stood and stretched. “I have some work to finish before dinner,” he announced before taking his cup of tea into the study with him.
“Aamir, go upstairs and finish your homework,” Mom said, and I braced myself for more lecturing on how it was better for everyone if I didn’t go away for college.
“Rukhsana,” Mom began as soon as Aamir left the kitchen. “You know I am very proud of you, right?” She took a sip of her tea and looked at me, her eyes filled with concern.
She sighed deeply and her shoulders sagged. “I worry what people will say. If you move away, there is no telling what kind of nasty rumors will fly around.”
I sipped slowly at my tea to buy myself some time. “Mom, I can’t make important life decisions based on what people might say.”
“But that’s what your father and I are here for. It is our job to make all the important decisions. That way we can make sure there is nothing for anyone to gossip about.”
What would she do if she found out about my relationship with Ariana? I knew I had to come out to my parents at some point. But definitely not before I was eighteen and over a thousand miles away with Ariana in California.
Copyright © 2021 by Sabina Khan
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