by Sara Farizan
“Nasrin?” I call to her gently. “Reza tells me you haven’t talked to him for a few days. He’s worried about you. I’m here now. Let me in. Please.”
She opens the door, and she has tears smearing her cheeks. It must be bad. She isn’t wearing any makeup. She walks back to her bed and curls into a fetal position, making herself very small and turning her back to me. The lights are off, and crumpled tissues are strewn all over her nightstand.
“What are you doing here?” she mumbles.
“Reza. He brought me.”
“He fetched you to fix me? How stupid of him.” She says that last bit in disbelief. I don’t blame her. I sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at her curled-up form. Seeing her so helpless makes me sick to my stomach. “I haven’t seen you in months,” she says. It was something we had decided together. It would make the change easier, for both of us. “Did you miss me?” Her voice sounds desperate. I lie down next to her and hold her in my arms, her back against my chest, her frayed and unkempt hair brushing my face.
“I miss you every moment of every day, you spoiled brat.”
She makes a noise that I think is a laugh. I will accept any noise she is willing to utter.
“Does it go away?” she asks. “Missing each other?”
I think about how much I missed Maman. I still do, though it isn’t as acute as it once was. “A little bit,” I whisper. “Enough so that life continues. In a year you won’t even think about me.” She turns around in my arms and looks up at me, tugging at a strand of my hair.
“Don’t say stupid things, Sahar. You’re smarter than that.” She curls my hair around one finger and unravels it just as quickly. Don’t kiss her. Those days are over. She’s your friend now. Be her friend.
“I’m pregnant.” She starts crying. I hold still for a moment, making absolutely sure I don’t cringe or vomit.
“Does Reza know?” I ask shakily. She shakes her head no. He’s going to be thrilled and she’s not ready for that. “Isn’t this what you wanted? A family of your own?” She starts sobbing now, guttural sobs that make her whole body quake. I try to soothe her the best I can by holding her close and patting her hair. Eventually she calms enough to get words out.
“When the doctor told me, I wished you were there with me. I love this baby already, whether it’s a boy or a girl, but he or she won’t know what you mean to me. The best person I know won’t be around anymore. And suddenly everything seemed like a huge mistake. You’re the one I should grow old with. And I can’t.”
We’re both crying now. My tears roll down, quickly and quietly—no sobs. She always has to outshine me in the dramatics department.
She is in this now, and there is no way Reza will ever let her take the baby away from him. If they divorced, custody would go to him. I am not worth that. I would feel guilt for the rest of my life, and anyway, Nasrin would never give up her child.
I hope it’s a girl. God, she’ll be beautiful.
I wipe my tears with one hand and pull away from Nasrin. She will be fine once the baby arrives, the love for her child overshadowing anything else. I have to be the strong one. Just like when we were kids.
“You’re always going to be a part of me, Nasrin.” She tries to catch her breath between gasps and stares at me with longing. I shake my head. “Not like we were, but it can be enough. It has to be enough.” I don’t flinch, I don’t stammer, I don’t feel I am saying the wrong thing. It doesn’t matter anymore. I shouldn’t matter anymore.
Nasrin frowns. I smile a little and tell her, “You’re looking at me the way I looked at you.” She grimaces when she hears looked, past tense. I pretend that I don’t notice, for both our sakes.
“I’m sorry,” she says. So she has finally apologized. It’s not as satisfying as I thought it would be.
I take her hand in mine. “Don’t be,” I say. “I’m looking forward to being an aunt. Under Reza’s supervision, anyway.” She laughs. We both know he’ll do whatever she wants, and I’ll be able to visit them whenever I please. She stares at our hands clasped together. I would hold her hand forever if I could.
But I can’t. So I let go. I love her, and I have to let go.
Acknowledgments
Chris Lynch for being the Mr. Miyagi to my Daniel-san and believing in me; Elise Howard for changing my life and being a generally awesome human being; Chris Crutcher, Tony Abbott, Amy Downing for being so generous; my agent Leigh Feldman at Writer’s House and Ken Wright for introducing us; Emily Parliman and Jean Garnett for all of their work; Algonquin Books for taking on this story; Lesley University’s MFA program; every teacher I have ever had (even the math teachers); and my friends and family.
Meet Sahar . . .
Her only worry as a seventeen-year-old should be whether or not she gets into university. However, being desperately in love with her best friend, Nasrin, in the Islamic Republic of Iran, complicates everything. Sahar is willing to go to great lengths to stop Nasrin from marrying a man, even if it means becoming a man herself. Sahar is brave, intelligent, innocent, slightly naive, devoted to her widower father, and quietly brimming with anger.
To be a doctor and be with Nasrin by any means necessary.
and her best friend, Nasrin . . .
Spoiled, wealthy, gorgeous and, searching for her parents’ approval, Nasrin is willing to marry handsome, successful Reza even though her heart belongs to Sahar. More concerned with current fashions than the feelings of others, she is adorably (to Sahar) self-centered, as a high school senior should be, and believes she is entitled to everything she wants. The only time she is truly herself—rather than what society expects her to be—is when she is around Sahar.
To be loved unconditionally.
and her cousin, Ali . . .
Sometime university student and all-the-time party boy, Ali shows his younger cousin Sahar the underground gay social scene in Tehran. His dealings are vague, illegal, and dangerous, but Ali continues living on the edge with a wolfish grin on his well- groomed face. Ali uses humor as an escape from the restrictions and oppression of the country he grows tired of calling home.
To be free. And party whenever he sees fit.
and her mentor, Parveen . . .
Compassionate, beautiful, and a lady in every way, Parveen teaches Sahar what it means to live as a transsexual in Tehran. She takes her identity as a woman very seriously. Parveen is a law-abiding citizen who always wears a head scarf and is a role model in the trans community. She has suffered, she has triumphed, and she is comfortable in her own skin, a trait that Sahar envies.
To be seen and treated as a lady, forever and always.
and Reza, Nasrin’s betrothed . . .
To Sahar, Reza is like Superman. He is a handsome, kind physician who seems to have no faults when Sahar wishes he did. Reza will make a wonderful husband, but he is under the impression that Nasrin will be a perfect wife. He is well meaning but is painfully unaware of his betrothed’s secret girlfriend.
To be a family man.
Meet Sahar’s father, Baba . . .
A widower who has never gotten over the death of his wife, Baba is more like a child Sahar has to take care of than a father. As despondent as he seems, Baba also makes keen observations and unconditionally cares for Sahar, even if she feels he doesn’t always show it.
To have his family back the way it used to be.
and Nasrin’s mother, Mrs. Mehdi . . .
Nasrin’s mother and the catalyst for Nasrin’s pending marriage, Mrs. Mehdi is all about appearances and has always spoiled her children with material things. Though she seems preoccupied with worrying about what others think and is sometimes calculating, she wants what she believes is best for her daughter.
For her children to be safe and well taken care of.
If You Could Be Mine
By Sara Farizan
ALGONQUIN YOUNG READERS
Questions for Discussion
“Tehran isn’t exactly safe for two girls in love
with each other,” says Sahar on page 2. In what ways is Iran dangerous for gay people? What are the consequences of discovery?
Seventeen-year-old Sahar says she has been in love with Nasrin since she was six years old. She is very different from Nasrin—for one thing, she wants to be a doctor, while Nasrin dreams of going to India to be a Bollywood actress. What are some other differences between the two young women? Can you see what attracts Sahar to Nasrin? Do you think they would make a good couple if they were allowed to be together? Why or why not?
Was there any point in the novel when you were nervous that Sahar and Nasrin’s romantic relationship would be discovered? Were there any clues that Nasrin’s mother had an idea of what was going on between the girls before she revealed to Sahar that she knew about them?
Photographs of the late leader Ayatollah Khomeini and the current leader Ayatollah Khamenei are posted all over Iran. On page 12, Sahar says, “Sometimes when Nasrin and I kiss, Ayatollah Khomeini’s and Ayatollah Khamenei’s faces pop into my head.” She thinks of Khomeini as “Angry Grandpa” and of Khamenei as “Disappointed Grandpa.” What does this say about how Sahar perceives the role of government in her personal life? Do any disapproving faces enter your thoughts at awkward moments?
Sahar’s references often reflect American popular culture—Julia Roberts, Cat Stevens, Madonna, Lady Gaga—despite the fact that many Western CDs and DVDs are censored or banned in Iran. Her cousin Ali seems to have no trouble getting his hands on these banned materials. What other “workarounds” for strict governmental policies do Sahar and her friends witness or take part in?
Sahar is devastated on page 20 to discover that Nasrin will be marrying a nice doctor named Reza—“the Superman of suitors.” She knew an arranged marriage for Nasrin was inevitable—why does it still come as such a surprise to Sahar? Does it seem out of character for Nasrin to agree to a traditional marriage? Why or why not?
When Sahar’s gay older cousin Ali says to her on page 30, “Sahar, it takes one to know one,” she is furious. She responds, “What you do is wrong, and I’m not like you.” What does Sahar see as the differences between Ali’s choices and behavior and her own?
How does Sahar’s angry reaction mirror both Nasrin’s and Katayoun’s responses when Sahar takes them to the gay underground scene at Restaurant Javan? How do Sahar’s judgments of Ali—and others—evolve during the course of the novel?
On page 102, Sahar daydreams about what it would be like to be a man in Iran. When she’s thinking about her father, whom she calls Baba, who “can’t even boil water,” she thinks she could leave him in the dust if she were a man. Despite her daydreams of male privilege, she never indicated that she felt like a man trapped in a woman’s body. Were you shocked when Sahar began to seriously contemplate getting a sex change to be with Nasrin? Why or why not?
In this novel, readers see the effects of gender-reassignment surgery on several different people, including Parveen, Maryam, Katayoun, and Jamshid. Sahar’s cousin Ali tells her on page 156, “A male version of you would be perverse. It would frighten [Nasrin].” What ultimately persuades Sahar that a sex-change operation is not the right choice for her?
Since Sahar’s mother died, her father has been “sleeping through life.” What finally prompts Sahar to confront Baba about his withdrawal? Do you think Sahar’s decision to stay with her father is the right one, even though he admits he is asking her to stay for selfish purposes?
When the story ends, it’s still illegal and potentially dangerous to be gay in Iran. What do you think the future holds for Nasrin? For Sahar? For their relationship?
Questions for Discussion by Karin Snelson
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Published by
Algonquin Young Readers
an imprint of Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill
P.O. Box 2225
Chapel Hill, NC 27514
a division of
Workman Publishing
225 Varick Street
New York, New York 10014
© 2013 by Sara Farizan.
All rights reserved.
eISBN 978-1-61620-310-8