I lie back in bed, and close my eyes. Maybe Hani uploading the picture is her roundabout way of saying something. Or maybe it isn’t—but it makes me happy all the same.
I had hoped that sleep would give me some clarity about both the Nik and Hani situations, but my thoughts are still a jumble when I wake up on Sunday morning. I spend the day helping Ammu clean the house up, my thoughts whirring around my head all the while.
As I clean, I think about how to bring up the subject of us with Hani. About whether I should bring it up at all. After all, the last time I tried, Hani shut me out. What if I’m simply building everything up inside my head? What if Hani doesn’t feel anything for me at all? What if I blow up our tentative friendship over nothing?
I kind of wish I had someone to talk to about this. Hani, at least, has her friends, though I doubt she would ever ask them for advice about me. The only person I’ve ever had is … Nik.
You can come to me. I just want you to know that. Okay?
That’s what Nik said the last time we saw each other. She seemed so sincere. I can almost picture her face now—the sympathy written all over it. I wanted to believe her—I want to believe her. But Nik and I have never been sisters like that. Not even before our academic competition began.
And now … Nik is the one who holds all the cards. Heaving a sigh, I go back to my cleaning, putting Nik out of my mind. My sister is definitely not someone I can trust. She’s not someone I can go to. Not even if she pretends that she is.
chapter thirty-one
hani
IT’S A LITTLE DIFFICULT TO GET ISHU OUT OF MY HEAD over the weekend. I’m still trying to figure out exactly what it means that she leaned forward—that I leaned forward. I want to believe that it meant something, but what if it was just both of us being overwhelmed by the idea of someone else having access to our guide? By the idea that our secret might not stay a secret for much longer?
More than anything, I wish I could speak to Amma about everything. She would know exactly what we should do about Nik. Exactly what I should say to Ishu. I even have a fleeting thought that if our secret is about to come out, why not just come clean to Amma?
But I know that I can’t do that. It would be betraying Ishu. And I’m just not ready for anyone to know yet. But I do wish I had someone who would tell me what I should do.
When Abba mentions his plans of canvassing during lunch on Sunday, I almost leap out of my chair with excitement.
“Can I help?”
Abba and Amma exchange a glance. I’m not sure what it means but I don’t think it’s anything positive.
“Are you okay, Hani?” Amma asks. “You’ve been acting … a little odd for the past few days.”
“I’m fine.” My voice comes out squeaky, suggesting that I’m not fine at all. I clear my throat and give Amma and Abba the biggest smile I can muster. “It’s just … the summer exams are almost here and … that’s … stressful.”
“And … you’re in a new relationship.”
I can almost feel my smile falter at that, but I try to keep it up. “Yeah … and that.” The thought of Ishu tugs at my stomach but I try to shake that odd feeling off of me. “But … I want to help canvass!” I turn to Abba. Getting out of the house and helping Abba with the election is exactly the thing I need to do. “I already know all your policies. Who better to help you?”
Abba doesn’t quite look convinced. “I don’t know, Hani. I don’t know how comfortable I feel with you going door-to-door—”
“I’ve done it before,” I remind him. “How many times have I gone door-to-door for the MS read-a-thon or the annual walk-a-thon?”
A smile flickers on Abba’s lips and I know that I’ve convinced him. “That was in this neighborhood.”
“So … I’ll canvass right here, close to home!” I gulp down the last of my sandwich and stand up. “I’ll be the best canvasser, Abba, I promise.”
Abba heaves a sigh. “Okay … but this is a big responsibility, and you need your friends to help you.”
All the enthusiasm I was feeling simmers out. “Why do I need them?”
“You’re not doing this on your own, Hani. Your friends can help. They came with you to my speech at the mosque, right? It won’t take long.”
“And afterwards, you guys can get pizza and watch a movie or something,” Amma chimes in. “Or I can even make them dinner.” She beams, like making dinner for my friends is her favorite thing to do. Every time Aisling and Dee come over, Amma has to make “white people food.” Not even “white people spicy” food as she would for other non-Bengalis, just white people food, because Aisling and Dee won’t eat any Bengali food—though they’ve never even tried it.
“Yeah, I’ll text them,” I say, though it’s really the last thing I want to do. At the mosque, they didn’t even want to stay until the end of Abba’s speech—they got fed up almost as soon as they got there. I’m not sure they’ll be much help here either, but at least they wouldn’t be able to accuse me of ditching them to hang out with Ishu for the weekend.
I throw on a pair of jeans and a campaign t-shirt that Abba had made ages ago. It’s bright blue and says VOTE KHAN #1! across the chest. The doorbell rings almost as soon as I’m dressed. It buzzes once, then twice, then one loud long buzz that lasts until I fling the door open. I try hard not to frown at Aisling and Dee standing in front of me, their arms crossed over their chests and looking like this is the last place they want to be.
In fact, they look like they’re about to go to a party instead of out campaigning for Abba’s election. They both have on full faces of makeup. Dee is wearing a crop top and a skirt that barely covers her thighs, while Aisling is wearing a black dress that reaches just above her knees.
“Hi …” I don’t mean the greeting to sound like a question, but it does. Because I have a lot of questions as I take the two of them in. I hold out the t-shirts that Abba has stashed in our store room. “These are my dad’s campaign t-shirts.”
Dee and Aisling exchange a glance. It makes discomfort settle in my stomach, but I try to shrug that feeling off of me.
“Cool, thanks.” Aisling reaches out and grabs both the t-shirts, cradling them in her hands awkwardly. Neither of them make any indication of wanting to come inside the house to get changed. They just … kind of stand there, looking odd and out of place outside my front door.
I glance back at Amma in the kitchen. I can hear the water running in the sink where she’s doing the dishes. “Amma, we’re going,” I call back in Sylheti. “Allahafez.”
She glances back and gives us a quick wave as I step outside to join Dee and Aisling.
“So …” I dig through my bag to get hold of the bundle of leaflets that I grabbed from Abba earlier. “This has everything that we need to know about my dad’s campaign.” I hold out one leaflet each to the two of them. But they both look at them as if I’m offering them something disgusting instead of a piece of paper.
“Look …” Aisling says slowly. My stomach drops. I feel like I already know exactly what she’s going to say. But there’s no way—no way—she’s going to try to talk me out of campaigning for Abba today, right? Not when I specifically asked them to come over for this. “We really want to go canvassing, or whatever.”
“Really!” Dee’s eyes brighten like she’s trying to convince me that campaigning for local elections has been her lifelong dream—but it’s not as convincing as she seems to hope.
“But … Colm and Barry asked us last minute to go into town and hang out. We couldn’t say no. We’re supposed to be celebrating their victory from yesterday,” Aisling finishes.
“Which you missed, by the way,” Dee adds matter-of-factly.
I try to tamp down the anger bubbling up inside me. “Well, fine. You guys go and celebrate with Barry and Colm. I promised my dad that I would—”
“We know you lied to us.” Aisling cuts me off.
My breath hitches in my throat. Is this the moment of truth? Do Aisling
and Dee know that Ishu and I have been faking it this whole time?
“I saw your Instagram picture,” Aisling continues when I don’t reply. “Of you and Ishita.”
It takes me a moment to realize what exactly Aisling is talking about. Last night, after coming home and trying—and failing—to get Ishu out of my head, I ended up uploading the sole picture of the two of us together from the dawat last night. I meant it as a way to tell Ishu that we’re okay, no matter what happened—or didn’t happen—between us. So that she can see I’m still on board with our plans to make her Head Girl.
“You said you had a ‘family thing.’ ” Dee actually sounds genuinely offended as she puts air quotes around “family thing.”
“It was a family thing,” I insist. “Or … at least a Bengali thing.” It’s difficult to separate the two—I’m not sure if a separation even exists. “Look … I was obligated to go.”
“Right.” Aisling rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m sure you were obligated to hang out with your girlfriend at a ‘Bengali’ thing.”
“Don’t say it like that.” My voice rises an octave and I have to remind myself that I’m not supposed to get angry. That I shouldn’t get angry.
“I just … don’t like the person you’re becoming.” Aisling’s voice softens as she says this. “The kind of person who ditches her friends to hang out with her girlfriend.” Beside her, Dee just nods her head solemnly. I wonder how much time they spent discussing this before they came here—if this was always the plan, whether I had decided to call them over or not.
“That’s not what happened,” I say. “You don’t get it. Going to our Bengali parties … that’s something Ishu and I both have to do. We were just there … together. We didn’t plan it.”
Aisling drops her arms by her sides and steps closer to me. “Dee and I invite you to everything.” There’s a pleading tone to her voice. “Why do we get excluded from things you and Ishita get to do together?”
“Because …” I scrunch my eyebrows together, trying to figure out how to explain it. “It’s … different. Our Bengali parties are our chance to be around our community. Other people can’t be a part of it. It’s … intimate.”
Aisling and Dee don’t look convinced by my words when I look up to meet their gazes, and I do feel a little bad. I guess from where they’re standing, it does seem like I ditched the two of them with a lie to hang out with my girlfriend.
I cast one last look at the leaflets in my hands. I’m sure “celebrating” with Barry and Colm won’t be terrible. And Abba will understand if we don’t manage to canvass just today, right? If we leave it for another day? He did have qualms about me going in the first place.
I heave a sigh, glancing down at myself. I definitely can’t go into town wearing my campaign t-shirt.
“Here.” Dee digs into her bag and tosses me a black jumper. It’s a little too tight, and I definitely don’t look ready for a night in town. But it’ll have to do.
As we head toward the bus stop, I can’t help the gnawing dread in my stomach.
chapter thirty-two
ishu
I STAY PREOCCUPIED WITH HANI AND NIK AND HOW TO deal with everything until I get to school on Monday. Beside the office, there’s a list of names tacked up and I know exactly what that is about. It’s only a few weeks until the exams and the end of our school term. I knew that the Head Girl candidates would be announced sooner or later. I guess I thought it would be later.
With everything else going on—the fake dating guide in Nik’s hand and this ridiculous crush on Hani—I had almost forgotten about Head Girl. But now a strange dread gnaws at me as I slowly make my way toward the list. What if I’ve been too preoccupied with all of this stuff? I had been so worried about not making Head Girl because I need everyone’s vote to make it happen, but to get there, I need to first of all make the cut and be chosen as a viable candidate by the teachers.
Taking a deep breath, I start to scan the list. The first couple of names are for the candidates chosen for prefect who need to interview with the teachers. Hani’s name sits in the middle: Humaira Khan, International Prefect: Wednesday 3 p.m. in the library.
I’m not surprised to see Hani there. Everybody loves her, after all. And it’s not like there’s stiff competition for prefect applications when there are more than a dozen positions available.
The Head Girl candidates are listed at the very bottom, and I have to take another deep breath before I can look:
Head Girl interviews will take place on Tuesday in the principal’s office at the following times:
Alexandra Tuttle: 9 a.m.
Siobhán Hennessey: 9:30 a.m.
Maya Kelly: 10 a.m.
Ishita Dey: 10:30 a.m.
I barely get the chance to breathe a sigh of relief before I spot Hani coming around the corner, concern written all over her face.
“Hey …” she says hesitantly, and I’m not sure if this is because of this weekend or the list that’s hanging in front of us.
“I’m on the list. I have my interview tomorrow.” The words out of my lips feel like relief, but there’s a sense of dread there too. Because this is just the start. Nik was on this list too during her fifth year, but even with her charming smile and winning personality she couldn’t convince people at this school to choose her as the Head Girl. I don’t have Nik’s personality—what hope do I have to win what she didn’t?
Hani’s face brightens, the smile that’s become so familiar to me on her lips now. “That’s amazing, congratulations!” Then, lowering her voice she asks, “So … why do you look disappointed? This is what you wanted, right?”
“I mean …” I take a deep breath, stepping away from the office and toward the browbeaten bench opposite it. We sit down side by side and I’m a little too aware of the fact that we’re so close I can smell the coconut scent of her shampoo. “These are the parts I can’t control.” My voice is barely a whisper, but Hani must hear them because her smile disappears.
“They’ll vote for you.”
“And you know that because …”
“Because … our plan worked,” Hani says matter-of-factly. “It worked … kind of better than we could have ever imagined, hasn’t it? Aisling and Dee are on your side now. There’s no way you’re going to lose this.”
Somehow, Hani sounds completely convinced of this fact. I can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face from her strangely confident gaze.
“You’ve just jinxed it, you know.”
Hani just rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “I made the prefect shortlist, you know.”
“Yeah, obviously you did. Congratulations.”
“So … Aisling and Dee were saying we should celebrate after school? You’re going to come, right?” There’s a hint of a plea in her voice and I heave a sigh.
“Maybe we should … talk about …” I hesitate and Hani gazes down at the hem of her skirt, her fingers wrapping around the ends, “… the guide?”
Hani looks up to meet my eyes again. I know there are other things we have to talk about too, but this seems more pressing. “I mean … if something happens with that, all our hard work will be blown, right?”
“Right.” Hani nods. “So, you need to talk to your sister.”
And that’s what I was afraid of her saying, because I don’t know how a conversation with my sister about this would go.
“What if that makes it worse?” I ask. “I mean … right now, she hasn’t said anything or done anything, but … if I bring it up, maybe that’ll make her do something.”
“We can’t just wait around and hope for the best,” Hani says. “And we can’t exactly take it back.”
“We could delete the whole thing!” I say, even though the idea of deleting it makes me feel a little hollow inside. The fake dating guide might be filled with evidence of our lie, but it also feels like a history of us.
Hani shakes her head slowly. “We could delete it … but Nik alre
ady knows. She could have saved the whole thing if she really wanted to use it against us.”
I slump back in the uncomfortable bench, feeling the wood of it digging into my skin. It was donated by the graduating class of sixth years a while back. It even has a gold plaque in the middle announcing it. I don’t know why they couldn’t have donated something with a cushion.
“Ishu …” Hani sighs. “I know you don’t want to talk to her—”
“It’s the last thing I want to do.” It’s been weeks since Nik and I have come into contact—I’ve barely even thought about her since that day outside our house. And maybe that should make me feel bad, but I’m not the one who threw everything away for the sake of a guy. Though, when I see the way Hani is looking at me, I think maybe I can understand Nik’s motivations at least a little.
“… but I can help. We can come up with a script or something. And, you know, I can be there when you guys talk. I can—
“I’ll talk to her,” I blurt out. “Today … or … tomorrow, maybe. I don’t know. It was my fault she found out … I’ll deal with it.”
Hani meets my gaze with a smile and I realize that there’s so little distance between us again. Even with the humdrum of students around us, it feels like it’s just Hani and me here. Just the two of us separate from the rest of the world somehow.
The bell rings out, shrill and sharp, and Hani jumps up, brushing her long black locks of hair out of her eyes.
“We should get to class,” she says.
“Yeah.” I sigh.
Can we talk?
I send the text before I can think about it too much. As soon as I send it, I toss my phone onto my bed and open up my maths books. I’m going to test myself on some theorems and try to forget about tomorrow morning.
Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating Page 16