“You don’t have to say best friends like that.” Hani looks a bit put off.
“Like what?”
“Like the concept of best friends isn’t real.”
I shrug. “That’s not why I said it like that. I said it like that because they’re awful friends.”
“They offered to hear you out and give you a chance,” Hani says. Her obliviousness to her best friends’ assholery creates a throb of anger inside me, and I have to push it down. “Because they know I like you and you’re my girlfriend.”
“They know you like me?” I don’t know why my stomach drops at that sentence.
“I mean, you know. Because we’re pretending.” There’s a blush on Hani’s cheeks and I have to look away.
“Right. I guess you’ve gotten pretty good at that …” I shake my head, because I definitely can’t be doing this, or feeling this. I have a goal here and I have to focus. We both do. “So, tell me. What do I need to do, who do I need to be, for them to be on board with me being Head Girl?”
“Well …” Hani tosses her head up and strokes her chin like she’s having to really think about all of this. “Dee really likes … fashion.”
I don’t know what I expected Hani to say but it wasn’t that. I raise an eyebrow.
“So I need to be more fashionable?”
She smiles and elbows me. It shouldn’t make butterflies flutter in my stomach but it does. If I could tell my brain to shut up and stop functioning right now, I would. Though are crushes even the territory of the brain?
“No, you don’t need to be more fashionable. I like the way you dress.”
“In t-shirts and jeans,” I say hesitantly. Maybe she hasn’t really seen my clothes properly.
“Yeah.” Hani shrugs. “There’s a kind of casual, I-don’t-give-a-crap attitude to it. People gravitate toward that, you know.” She nods, like this is a fact of life.
“Right. This is why I can’t get people to stop gravitating toward me.”
Her smile broadens, like I’ve said something really amusing. “I’m just telling you their likes and dislikes so we can figure out how you can bond with them.”
I groan and lie back in bed. The idea of bonding with Aisling and Deirdre, of all people, truly disgusts me. I can’t say that to Hani, though she already knows to some extent. She definitely knows. I still can’t say it, can I?
“Go on then,” I grumble, staring up at the ceiling. The bed squeaks, and I can feel Hani shifting around, until she’s right beside me, with her legs pulled up to her chest.
“So … Dee loves fashion, and she wants to be a hairdresser. She’s really into like … doing hair and makeup and stuff. She’s obsessed with the Kardashians …”
I didn’t think anybody in real life was obsessed with the Kardashians, but if it’s going to be anybody, it’s definitely going to be Deirdre.
“And Aisling—”
“Let me guess.” I interrupt. “She wants to be a makeup artist and she watches Love Island religiously.”
When I look up at Hani, she’s rolling her eyes. “Well, who doesn’t watch Love Island religiously?” she mumbles under her breath, before quickly adding, “You’re being very dismissive and judgmental, you know. I’m trying to keep our deal intact.”
“Right. Our deal.” I sit up and take a deep breath. “So … Aisling …”
“She loves … royals.”
“What?”
“She just loves … monarchies and royals. Like she talked about the royal wedding for, like, months, sometimes she still does. And she had theories about Prince Harry’s baby before journalists even started reporting on it. She’s obsessed. You can’t get her to shut up about it.”
“Has anybody told Aisling that she’s Irish?” Somehow her interests are worse than I could have imagined them to be. Way, way worse.
Hani elbows me again. “Just because she’s Irish doesn’t mean she can’t be obsessed with the monarchy.”
“Yeah, but the British monarchy? The people who colonized Ireland and basically all of the world? Seven hundred years of oppression? The famine?”
“You definitely shouldn’t say any of that to Aisling,” Hani says.
“Can I at least talk about the racist British media attacking Meghan Markle?” I ask.
“I would keep it to lighthearted topics only,” Hani advises. “I don’t want you to get into a fight.”
“Good call, I guess,” I mumble. I can imagine getting into an argument with Aisling far too easily. Actually, it’s going to be a real struggle to not get into an argument with her. “Anything else?”
“Well … Aisling and Dee are both obsessed with River dale,” Hani says slowly. “I guess they both have huge crushes on KJ Apa and … Cole Sprouse.” She shrugs, like she doesn’t get the appeal.
“And who do you have a crush on?” I ask. She turns her head toward me a little too fast, a blush rising up her cheek.
“Um, n-no one,” she says too quickly.
I narrow my eyes. “Isn’t that the show where everybody is apparently ridiculously attractive? You don’t have a crush on anyone from there?”
Hani lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh, um … well. I haven’t actually watched it. I watched one episode and that was it.” She shrugs. “Have you watched it? Because that could be the easiest topic, you know. There’s no chance of veering off into talking about how much you hate the British monarchy.”
“I’m sure I could find a way,” I say.
Hani smiles fondly, holding my gaze a little longer than necessary. “I’m sure you could …”
“I haven’t watched it, though.” I break off our eye contact and shake my head. “I don’t know if I can sit through that. There’s just too many white people.”
Hani laughs. “Well, I’ll watch it with you if you want. We … can decide who our crushes are amongst all the apparently attractive people?”
Unfortunately, I already know who mine is. But all I do is shrug and say, “Sure. Why not?”
chapter twenty-three
hani
SATURDAY CREEPS UP FASTER THAN EXPECTED. EVEN with me telling Ishu about all of the things that Aisling and Dee love, and all of the topics that she should definitely 100 percent avoid, I’m not convinced that she’s prepared for this “triple date.” To help her prepare, I even typed up all of my suggestions into our Google Doc, so Ishu can use it like a cheat sheet. But things are bad enough with just Aisling, Dee, and the two of us. With their boyfriends involved too, I can only imagine how things will turn out.
I text Ishu bright and early on Saturday morning.
Hani: Aisling hates rice
Ishu: … in what situation would that come up??
Hani: if we’re picking a restaurant to go to??
Ishu: right, because I only love “rice” restaurants
Hani: you’re bengali!!!
Ishu: don’t stereotype us
Ishu: does she like potatoes, or are her tastes also monarchical
Hani: you should just agree to whatever she suggests, that’s the best way to play it …
Ishu: yeah, I got that about a hundred texts ago
I’m about to type back when my phone lights up with a call instead. I’m still in bed, so I sit up straight and pat down my hair to make sure that it’s not too messed up.
“You know that we’ve been talking about this nonstop for days now, right?” is the first thing Ishu asks. She is, obviously, already dressed and ready for the day ahead. She’s sitting at her desk, and I can see her biology and chemistry books peeking out on the corner of the phone screen. Who studies biology and chemistry first thing on a Saturday morning? “I can handle this—you need to stop freaking out.”
Ishu actually looks pretty calm for someone who has to spend the day sucking up to people she obviously detests.
“I just don’t want us to mess this up,” I say. “They’re the key to you becoming Head Girl. Everybody listens to Aisling … she would be Head Girl, you know. If her gra
des weren’t so awful.”
“Right.” Ishu sighs. “Well, I’ve been brushing up on my knowledge of royals. Did you know that the royal family member with the highest net worth is Princess Charlotte? Five billion dollars.”
“Are you planning on kidnapping her?” I ask.
Ishu heaves a sigh. “Five billion dollars wouldn’t even be enough for reparations considering all the colonization and war and genocide. And the fact that most of us are still suffering from the results of colonization and—” Ishu shuts up when she sees my sharp gaze. “I’ve … also been working on keeping my mouth shut.” She doesn’t look happy about it. And obviously she hasn’t worked that hard on it.
“Do you want me to meet you in town or do you want me to pick you up?” I ask, changing the subject.
“By ‘pick me up,’ you mean getting the bus to my house so we can get the Luas into town together?” There’s a hint of a smile on her lips. “Isn’t that a little bit of a roundabout trip for you?”
I shrug. “I don’t mind. This is important.” I’m also deathly afraid of her being stuck with Aisling, Dee, Barry, and Colm without me. I’m even afraid of her being with them when I’m there. I can’t even imagine how things would go if I leave her alone with them.
“Then … sure. Five o’clock?”
I nod. “See you then. Don’t study too much.”
Not that that’s possible for Ishu.
Ishu’s dad opens the door when I ring the doorbell. His face breaks out into a smile at the sight of me.
“Kemon acho, Babu?” he asks. “Porer shapta amader bashai tomra ashcho, na?”
“Good, Uncle. Yeah … we’ll be here next week.” I shuffle inside, wondering why Bengali parents are so bad at making conversation.
“Tomar school kemon cholche?” he asks, as I will Ishu to come downstairs and rescue me from this conversation.
“Pretty good,” I say.
“Exam to er porer bochor taina?” he asks. “Ishu to shara din raat khali pore. Tar iccha shey Cambridge theke graduate korbe. Daktari porbe.”
Ishu never mentioned that particular goal to me, but it sounds like her. The way Ishu studies, her absolute determination to be Head Girl, I guess this is where it’s all leading up to. I don’t know why I feel my stomach clench at the thought. Maybe because I can’t imagine myself going anywhere other than universities in Dublin, like DCU, UCD, or Trinity. And I haven’t even figured out what I want to do.
Ishu and I are just now becoming friends … kind of. The thought of her moving to a whole other country to obsess over her studies is the kind of thing I don’t want to think about. The kind of thing that shouldn’t make me feel like somebody has pulled the rug out from under me. But it does.
I try to shake it off and smile at Uncle. “I’m sure she’ll get in … she’s like the smartest person in our entire school.”
Uncle smiles proudly at that. Thankfully, before he can start interrogating me about where I rank in terms of my results, we hear Ishu’s quick steps on the stairs.
“Okay … pore dekha hobe.” Uncle waves his hand and disappears into the kitchen, just as Ishu appears in my line of sight.
She’s wearing a dress. No leggings. I don’t know if it’s that she’s trying to look more malleable for Aisling and Dee or what. All I know is that she looks amazing. She even has her hair neatly parted to one side and clipped away from her face.
“Hey …” She pulls down at the bottom of her dress—it almost comes up to her knees, but not quite—clearly not feeling particularly comfortable in that getup.
“You look nice.” I offer, even though it’s kind of an understatement. She looks amazing. She also looks not quite like herself. The easy confidence that Ishu normally exudes seems to have disappeared. And I don’t know if it’s because of the dress, the situation, or because of our current relationship … whatever that is.
“This is my sister’s dress,” Ishu explains, taking a seat at the bottom of the stairs and pulling on her shoes: heels that will actually make her slightly taller than me for once. “It’s … itchy.”
I laugh. “Well, it suits you. But … you don’t look comfortable. Maybe you should change into something more … comfortable?”
Ishu raises an eyebrow in my direction. “If there was ever a time to wear something uncomfortable, it’s in this very uncomfortable situation I’m getting myself into.” She pulls the straps of her shoes on, before turning to me with a frown. “You don’t think I look like a clown, do you?”
“What? No!” I don’t even know where she’d get that idea.
“Just … you know how Aisling and Deirdre can be. I don’t want them to … make fun of me for … trying too hard,” she says. “This is a dress from House of Fraser.”
“Wow …”
“I mean, I’m pretty sure my sister got it during sales … she’s very thrifty,” Ishu says. I definitely can’t imagine House of Fraser being a regular shopping spot for them. Not just because it’s a posh shop, but because it doesn’t really seem like their thing anyway. Ishu is so down-to-earth. House of Fraser is not.
“I feel kind of underdressed compared to you, you know.” I comment. I’m wearing a pair of black jeans and a red polka dot blouse. I guess I should have dressed up a bit more, considering this is supposed to be a date.
Ishu looks at me with scrutinizing eyes for a minute. I shift around, balancing my weight on one leg, then the other.
“You always look good,” she says finally. “You don’t have to worry.” I know I shouldn’t take it to mean much, but I still feel heat rise up my cheeks. I want to say that she does too, but I don’t want to piggyback on her compliment.
“Should we get going?” I say instead, reaching out my hand. She takes it, pulling herself up off the last step.
Taking a deep breath, Ishu says, “I guess so.”
Since it’s May, the weather has started looking up. It’s actually warm, and the sun has decided to come out for a few days. We meet Aisling, Dee, Colm, and Barry at St. Stephen’s Green, which is full to bursting with people. People who are lying on their backs and sunbathing, people who have picnics laid down on the grass. And people who have snuck cans into the park and are trying to subtly drink without any gardaí seeing them.
“Took you guys long enough,” Aisling says, as Ishu and I walk up to them. She’s wearing sunglasses and sitting with her legs crossed. Barry has his head on her lap, his eyes closed. Colm and Dee are nowhere to be seen.
“Dee and Colm aren’t even here yet.” I sit down, crossing my legs. Ishu stands for an awkward moment, before slipping down right next to me.
“They are, they’ve just nipped down to the shop,” Aisling says. “We’ve been here for ages and ages. The park’s going to close soon, you know.”
“Well, I thought we were supposed to be going for dinner, not just hanging out in a park.”
“Well, plans change when the weather changes,” Aisling says. “Hey, Ishita. You look very summery, unlike Maira here.”
Ishu shrugs and shifts close to me. Like I’m some kind of a safety blanket for her discomfort. “You look nice too,” she adds after a beat of silence. “I like your sunglasses.”
“Thanks.” Aisling grins. “This is Barry, by the way.”
Barry just raises a hand to acknowledge us. He doesn’t even open his eyes or look at us. It’s very rude, actually. But what else is new?
“So, we were thinking we would go to Captain America’s,” Aisling says. “It’s just down the corner and we can get the student dis—”
“That’s not halal, though.” Ishu interrupts.
“Maira doesn’t mind. She’ll just eat vegetarian like she always does.” Aisling shrugs. “Right, Maira?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Captain America’s has like one vegetarian option,” Ishu says. She digs into her bag and pulls out her phone. She taps twice before spinning the screen around toward Aisling. “This is a list of halal rest
aurants I found … some of them are pretty close. Most of them, actually. And—”
“Why do you have that list?” I peer over her shoulder and take a peek. It’s a long list.
“Because … I needed to know where we can go that you would like.” Ishu shrugs like it isn’t a big deal. Still, it feels like a huge deal. I knew that she had specifically looked for a halal restaurant for our “first date,” but I didn’t realize she had made a whole list and saved it onto her phone. Like there would be a time when she would be out and about with me again. As friends?
I try not to think about it because it’s making me feel something that I don’t want to feel.
“I’ve never heard of any of these places. Are they even any good?” Aisling barely glances at the phone. “Will we like the food? Maira isn’t the only person here, you know.”
“I’m sure you can venture a little out of your comfort zone of low-price greasy pizza,” Ishu says. She’s smiling—she’s gotten much better at that—but her voice contains so much venom that it’s pretty much just passive aggression. Or really just pure aggression. I’m not sure if I’m touched by Ishu’s support of me or annoyed at how much she’s pushing this.
Thankfully, before any of us can say anything else, Dee and Colm appear.
“Hey, you guys made it.” Dee grins. “So, are we off to get food? I’m starved.”
“We were thinking Captain America’s,” Aisling says, like the previous conversation never happened.
Something dangerous flashes in Ishu’s eyes. I reach over and place my hand over her clenched fingers, afraid that she’s going to say—or worse, do—something that’s going to jeopardize everything. Ishu’s face softens at the touch—whether this is because she’s deeply confused about it or what, I’m not sure. Because the whole thing is sending goosebumps along my body in a way that I definitely do not enjoy. Or, don’t want to enjoy.
“You guys go ahead. Ishita and I will join you in a bit,” I say.
Aisling and Barry are already standing up. Barry looks at us over his sunglasses like he’s only just noticed our presence.
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