But before I can even glance at a single theorem, my phone buzzes with a call. My heart leaps into my throat. When I glance at the screen, it’s Nik’s name that flashes on it. I slide to the right to accept the call.
“Hey.”
“You wanted to talk?” Nik’s voice is hesitant. In the background, I can hear the hum of music, and the cheers of people. “Are you out?”
“Not really,” Nik says.
“How can you ‘not really’ be out? Either you’re out or you’re not.”
“Well …” Nik heaves a sigh. “I’m … at a party, it’s at my place, so I’m in, but …”
“You shouldn’t have called me from a party. I’ll—”
“No!” Nik exclaims before I can hang up. “I want to talk. The party isn’t important. Are you okay? Did … something happen?”
“I don’t know …” I say slowly. “Did something happen?”
Silence hangs between us for a moment. Or as silent as it can be when I can hear the low hum of music coming from her end.
“So, I guess you’re going to be super cryptic,” Nik says finally.
“Well … maybe I wouldn’t have to be cryptic if you could just be fucking straightforward about things.”
Nik breathes a heavy sigh. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Ishu. Is this about Ammu and Abbu? The girl you’re seeing? School? You know I’m here for you. I told you that I—”
“You have something of mine.” I cut her off. The words are all rushing out of me suddenly, like if I don’t get them out of me immediately I’m going to explode. “I sent it to you by accident and I don’t know what you’re planning on doing with it, but I just need you to know that I’m not the only one who’ll be hurt if you tell people about it. Hani, she’s … my friend, and she’ll also—”
“Ishu.” There’s a strange waver in Nik’s voice. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she was on the verge of tears, but she’s the last person who should be upset here. I’m not the one holding information hostage over her.
“I saw the document, yeah. Your … guide to fake dating or whatever it is,” she says. “I didn’t even read it all the way through. I figured, yeah, you sent it to me by accident. And I don’t know what it means or why you’d pretend to be in a fake relationship with Hani, but … I meant what I said last time we saw each other. We’re not kids anymore. I’m not trying to hold things over you, to win over Ammu and Abbu by screwing you over. Ishu … you can always come to me. About anything. Okay?”
I don’t know why there’s suddenly a lump in my throat, but I gulp it down. “Okay.”
“Okay …” There’s another pause filled with silence, but it doesn’t feel as uncomfortable anymore. “So … is there something you want to talk about?” she asks.
“Um, yeah, actually. I was wondering … why didn’t you become Head Girl in your final year of secondary school?”
Nik lets out a chuckle. I guess this wasn’t the question she was expecting. “Ishu … you never change, do you?”
“It’s a valid question. I have the interview tomorrow so …”
“You’ll be fine,” Nik says. “You’ll be great. Just … remember that Head Girls are there in a leadership capacity. Try to show that you’re good at working with people. You’re not just your results—you’re a person with likes and dislikes and positive qualities.”
“So … what kind of questions will they ask?” I say.
“Probably stuff about how you’d solve certain problems, you know? How you’d handle debs stuff? Conflicts between students … things like that. Be confident and be assertive. Which are basically your two best qualities. So … you’ll be great.”
“Okay, thanks,” I say. Confident and assertive. I can definitely do that.
“Is that all?” Nik’s voice suggests that she thinks it isn’t. “Or … did you call to talk about something else? Something about—”
“Nope, nothing else.” I cut her off. Before she can bring Hani up. I definitely don’t want to hash out the fake dating guide and my feelings with Nik. “Thanks for answering my questions. Enjoy your party. Bye!”
“Wait, Ish—” Before she can say anything else, I tap the button to end the call. I breathe a sigh of relief as I shift back to my desk.
I don’t think Nik’s going to tell anyone.
I send the text off to Hani. From her fast reply, I know that she’s been waiting by her phone, worrying.
Are you sure?
Am I sure? Nik sounded so sincere, like she really believed what she was saying. Sure, my sister and I don’t have the best track record in the world, but maybe things have changed in the past few years. Nik is definitely far from the ambition-driven person she was in secondary school.
So, I text Hani back with the best I’ve got:
I want to believe her.
chapter thirty-three
ishu
THERE’S A KNOCK ON MY BEDROOM DOOR THE NEXT morning as I’m changing into my uniform. There are only two people it could be—Ammu or Abbu. But it’s still strange for them to knock on my bedroom door this early in the morning.
I pull on my jumper and swing the door open to Abbu’s grim face. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, like he hasn’t slept in a while, and his usually clean-shaven face has bits of stubble all over it. I wonder if it’s to do with the Nik situation—or if it’s something else entirely.
“Morning, Abbu.” I try not to let confusion seep into my voice, even though that’s really all I’m feeling.
His lips stretch out into something that only slightly resembles a smile—it’s more of a grimace. “They’re choosing the prefects and Head Girl in school soon.” It’s not a question. I wonder how he found out, when I haven’t told him anything.
“Yep …” I trail off, going back and forth in my head about whether to tell him about the interview or not. On the one hand, I’ve already lost enough sleep about it because I’m a nervous wreck. I don’t know if I can deal with Ammu and Abbu putting pressure on me about it right now as well.
“This time two years ago, Nikhita was preparing too.” His face softens at Nik’s name, and I try not to let it bother me. “She made me do mock interviews with her.” There’s fondness and regret mixed together in his voice. “And she was so disappointed when she didn’t get it. Didn’t even want to talk to us about it.”
“She’s very ambitious,” I offer.
“Was.” Abbu’s face darkens. “I know you’re on the right track, Ishu.” He places a hand on my shoulder and peers into my face, cracking a smile. As if this is the highest compliment he can give me. It kind of is, from Abbu.
“Thanks, Abbu,” I say. “I’m keeping my head down and staying focused.”
“You’ll tell us what happens with the Head Girl thing?” There’s hope in his voice, and I don’t want to give him more hope and then crush it. So I just nod my head.
When I become Head Girl, I tell myself. I’ll let them know then.
On the bus to school, I put in my headphones and hit shuffle on my Spotify. I want to avoid thinking about the upcoming interview, and somehow find myself on my Instagram page. It’s pretty bare—I’m hardly ever on it. But I’ve been tagged in so many pictures since I started hanging out with Hani. I scroll through the pictures of us on our first date, where we look happy, if a little uncomfortable with each other. Then there are pictures of all of us during our triple date at Captain America’s. I have such a forced smile on my lips that I have to stifle a giggle as I scroll past the photos.
I shake my head and click out of my picture tags. I definitely can’t let myself get distracted this morning, even though I’ve spent equal amounts of time thinking about Hani as I have about this interview.
I’m about to close out of my Instagram when I see a picture of my sister on my feed. I quickly scroll back up to it. The picture is of her and Rakesh, dressed up. She’s in a bright red dress that makes her brown skin glow; he’s in a suit and tie. They’re bot
h grinning with their arms wrapped around each other like this is the best day of their lives.
The caption reads:
thank you so much for the engagement party @gemmabakesscones, couldn’t have asked for a better night or a better bunch of friends to celebrate with. Lucky to be marrying the man of my dreams!
The picture is from last night and was only uploaded this morning. The more I look at, the more I feel a lump rising in my throat, and a prickling behind my eyes. Did Ammu and Abbu know about this? Were they invited? Or have we got to a point where we don’t even bother inviting each other to big life events like this?
Is Nik really going to get married without Ammu and Abbu? Without me?
This must have been why Abbu was reassuring me that I was on the right track. Ammu and Abbu have given up on Nik. The thought of it unsettles me. Fills me with a kind of dread I’ve never felt before. Sure, I knew that they were angry at her. I knew that she was frustrated with them. I know what Abbu and Ammu are like.
But I didn’t think they were really going to go this far. How could they miss their eldest daughter’s wedding?
By the time Principal Gallagher calls me into her office for the interview, I’m a mess of emotions. My nervousness about the interview and becoming Head Girl has somehow combined with the sudden dread of Nik getting married without the rest of us. I try to take a deep breath and forget about the latter as I step inside the principal’s office and take in her plush maroon carpet and cream walls covered with all kinds of academic certificates. I can’t let my emotions sabotage my chances at Head Girl, even if it suddenly doesn’t feel that important anymore.
“Ishita.” Principal Gallagher gives me a tight smile as I sit down. Ms. Proudman, the guidance counselor, is supposed to be in here with us too, but there isn’t a chair for her. Instead, there are two chairs placed on either side of me, like they’re expecting more people to interview with me.
“Good morning, Ms. Gallagher,” I say hesitantly, trying to maintain my friendliness and politeness. “Um, are we expecting more people?”
Principal Gallagher maintains a tight smile as she takes me in.” Actually, we are … postponing the interview this morning.”
“Oh … then why—”
Before I can ask the question on my lips, the door to the office bursts open and Ammu and Abbu pour in.
“Is everything okay?” Ammu asks, at the same time that Abbu demands, “What happened?” in a gruff voice.
“Mr. and Mrs. Dey, please take a seat.” Principal Gallagher fixes them with that same tight smile and points to the two chairs on either side of me. I feel a sense of dread rising up within me. Something is wrong. Something must be gravely wrong for my parents to have been called in. There’s something sinister behind Principal Gallagher’s smile.
My parents sit down, Ammu on my left and Abbu on my right. But there’s no comfort in having them here. Actually, it feels kind of suffocating, and for some reason all I can think about is Nik and how quick they were to cast her out when she wasn’t exactly who they wanted her to be.
“One of our students has brought a serious matter before me, involving Ishita,” Ms. Gallagher says, looking from Ammu to Abbu but not glancing at me at all. She reaches under her desk and pulls out two sets of papers and sets them down side by side. The top of both say: Fifth Year Biology, Ms. Taylor.
The names at the top of the tests have been covered up with sticky notes, but I recognize my own messy handwriting on one, and Aisling’s loopy writing on the other.
“The student told Ms. Taylor, Ishita’s biology teacher, that she suspected Ishita had cheated off of her test. She didn’t want to say anything at the time because she was afraid of what Ishita might do, but … well, the evidence is right here.”
I can only blink at the tests in front of me, as the realization slowly dawns on me. How could I have been so ignorant? How could I have let Aisling manipulate me like this?
“I didn’t cheat,” I say, finally looking up and right at Ms. Gallagher. “I wouldn’t do that. Aisling is the one who cheated. She was looking at my test and copying off of it. You can look at my other results; I always get similar marks, because I study. Not because I cheat.”
“Well.” Ms. Gallagher sighs, like I’ve not consistently been the top student in all of my classes ever since I started school here. “You have had excellent results in all of your classes in the past, but we’ll have to open an investigation. We’re going to be conducting interviews with some of your peers—”
“That’s bullshit!” I stand so quickly that my chair almost topples over. “I have never cheated. I’ve never needed to. I study—”
“Ishita Dey, that’s enough.” Ms. Gallagher’s voice doesn’t rise. She just eyes me with an almost bored expression on her face. “We have to investigate this matter, as it’s been brought to our attention. That’s just the normal procedure when—”
“Is Aisling being investigated too?”
“The student who brought this case to our attention hasn’t—”
“You just have to look at her other results to know that this is unusual for her. That she’s the one who—”
“—been accused by anyone of cheating. For the time being, I’m afraid we can’t consider you for the position of Head Girl, as I’m sure you understand, Mr. and Mrs. Dey.” Ms. Gallagher looks at Ammu and Abbu like I’m not even there. Like they’re the ones who have spent five years working their asses off.
“This is fucking bullshit.” I clench my hands into fists. It’s all I can do to not reach over and break something on Ms. Gallagher’s desk.
“Ishita, we can’t tolerate outbursts like this in—”
“But you can tolerate false accusations and lies and—”
“Ishu.” I feel Ammu’s hand around mine. “Raga ragi kore kono lab nai, Ishu. Ekhon amra bashai choli.”
“Pore amra discuss korbo.” Abbu adds with a grim nod. “Thank you, Principal Gallagher.”
Ms. Gallagher gives Ammu and Abbu her tight smile and looks at me with pity written across her face.
The lump in my throat has returned, and it’s swiftly rising up. But I can’t say or do anything. It’s not like my words matter at this point. It’s not like everything I’ve been working for matters at this point.
Even though I still have an entire day of classes left, Ammu and Abbu tell me to grab my stuff so we can get home. It’s break time so everybody is milling around, and I don’t look like the odd one out—as long as I can keep my anger and tears at bay. When I get to my locker to pick up my bag and books, I catch sight of Hani. She’s standing by her own locker with Aisling and Dee. Crowded together and whispering. She doesn’t even see me watching them.
For a moment, I wonder if this has all been an act. Our fake dating, our friendship, all of those moments we’ve spent together where I was sure that we felt the exact same way about each other. I know the way she makes me feel is real. More real than I want it to be.
Can Hani be that good of an actor?
I shake the thought away, grab my bag, and leave the school.
With the way everything is going, now is not the time to mull over Hani and our relationship. My life is off-kilter and I have to get it back on track somehow. I have to prove that I haven’t been cheating, that Aisling is lying.
“What happened?” Abbu asks as soon as our car is on the road home. He catches my eye in the mirror for a moment, and Ammu wrings her fingers together on her lap.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “Aisling … the girl who accused me of cheating. She’s the one who cheated off of me, and now she’s lying because she obviously has something against me.”
Ammu and Abbu share a brief glance.
“I know things have been weird because of your sister,” Ammu says slowly. I guess she’s playing good cop. “But no university is going to accept you if they think you’ve been cheating. Forget about Head Girl.”
“I haven’t been cheating, Ammu,” I insist. “
I wouldn’t do that. Have I ever given you reason to believe I would? I’ve been going to that school for years! I’ve never come home with less than an A because I work my ass off. You’ve seen me study hard day and night. Why would you believe the word of someone you don’t even know over me?”
Ammu shakes her head. “Okay … so you say you didn’t cheat …”
I have to stop myself from groaning.
“Then … we have to find a way to prove that.”
“If we can do it quickly, you could still become Head Girl,” Abbu says. “And we’ll have to keep this whole thing under wraps. No word of it to anyone until we can clear everything up.”
I heave a sigh and stare out the window, at the buildings passing by. “Ammu, Abbu … did Nik invite you to her engagement party?”
They share another glance between them. “She did. She called us a while ago,” Ammu says. “The wedding, too. It’s over the summer. July.”
“That’s so soon.” I turn to them. “Where is it? In London?”
“Yes, I think so,” Ammu says.
“We’re going, right?” Ammu and Abbu don’t say anything. Abbu keeps driving, staring at the road ahead, and Ammu clenches her fingers on her lap, staring out the window.
“I want to go,” I try again. Louder. “She’s my only sister. She’s your oldest daughter.”
“We’re not going.” Abbu’s voice suggests that it’s already a done deal. That we’re not discussing this any further.
“Are you really going to cut her off because she’s dropping out of university?” I ask. “Because she’s not doing what you want her to do?”
“We’re not cutting her off,” Ammu says. “We just don’t support what she’s doing and we have to show her that, so that she can go back to the right path.”
“So … if I told you that I actually have been cheating all this time, you would cut me off too?” I ask. “Because I’m not going down the right path?”
“No, of course not,” Ammu says immediately. She turns to me with pleading eyes. “Can we just … talk about this later? We have to figure out a solution to your problem here.”
Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating Page 17