Not the Girls You're Looking For

by Aminah Mae Safi

  Emma didn’t look appeased. If possible, she looked more insulted. Lo kept right on painting Emma’s nails.

  “True.” Lulu was trying to hedge her bets. She could see Emma getting further agitated, but she wasn’t sure why. Maybe Emma was caught up in a point of honor. But that didn’t seem too like Emma.

  But Audrey was, as ever, heedless and unobservant. “And a slutty freshman at that.”

  Emma’s face went completely slack.

  Lulu only had an instant to make a recovery. “Hey! There I’ll take offense. One of your best friends was a slutty freshman. Remember Lo, the early years?”

  Lulu finished with a puckish wink. Lo laughed high and wide.

  “It’s true. Only because Lulu didn’t have the cojones to be slutty until she was a sophomore. Poor little Lulu-cat, you missed a whole year of fun.” Lo, looking up from Emma’s nails, winked back.

  “No, you forget. I didn’t have fun and was still a slutty freshman. Doesn’t take much.” Lulu shrugged. “See, you can’t attack slutty freshmen, Audrey. You’re among the juniors they grew up to be. It won’t do.”

  And for the moment, the peace was restored.

  * * *

  A listlessness settled over the slumber party. All the nails had been painted. All the hair had been braided, then unbraided and placed back up into slack ponytails. The sleeping bags were in disarray across the floor, scattered and clumped thoughtlessly, despite having been set into a neat row earlier in the evening. The girls were tired, but not so tired as to want to fall asleep. Or so they thought. They were fading, in and out. Audrey dropped off to sleep first, followed by Emma, her phone still in hand. Lo got up and headed upstairs to lay claim to Audrey’s bed. Lo had a light snore that would particularly wake Audrey.

  Lulu was a little bit sleepy, but, more important, she was full—properly so—for the first time in ages. All it had taken were nachos, queso, Spanish rice, flour tortillas, chicken fajitas, guacamole, sour cream, cheese, and salsa. Not to mention some funfetti cake and iced brownies. And a chocolate chip cookie. Slumber parties meant lots of time after dark, mostly spent eating. During Ramadan, this was the best kind of party Lulu could imagine.

  No one else was left awake. Lulu ought to have been conked out, but there were still problems left niggling at her conscience, keeping her up. She didn’t know what was wrong with Emma. She couldn’t keep Audrey from making it worse. But there was one problem she could solve. One piece of the rattling in her mind that she could take charge of. She got out her phone and began typing.

  I left something w you last time I saw you. Lulu hit send. Considering it was one in the morning, she didn’t expect an immediate response. She at least expected a “who’s this.” Her expectations were unmet on both counts.

  James responded right away. What was it

  Here Lulu preemptively smiled. She was about to be clever. My dignity

  Did you lose a bet again?

  Lulu didn’t give up. No

  Are you drunk?

  Lulu should have expected that, given the hour. But the comment still stung. No just wanted to thank you

  What for? James wrote back.

  And that was the crux of her crisis of conscience. She wasn’t quite sure. He could have pressed his advantage on Halloween. Not necessarily physically, though he probably could have done that as well. She barely cried in front of friends, much less acquaintances. She had wanted to reach out and connect to someone, quickly. If she was a performer on the high wire that night, she’d slipped on one foot, and balanced on the other—one falling shoe marked the distance downward while the other held her precarious balance. He could have done anything—it wouldn’t have taken much—to get her to tumble over. To have the satisfaction of watching a rival fall. But he hadn’t. And in his situation, Lulu might have. She sat, stumped, for far too long, before she could come up with any kind of response to the question.

  For being so decent on Halloween There. She’d said it. It felt like a good deal less than she ought to have said, but it also seemed to reveal a good deal more than she intended.

  James, apparently, wasn’t buying it. Praise indeed.

  If he wouldn’t see the pains she went through to make these kinds of admissions, then Lulu wouldn’t take care to make them any further. Shut up

  After seven minutes, she messaged again, the suspense making her anxious and energetic. How could he take her so literally? don’t shut up, shut up

  Her phone buzzed. Which is it?

  Lulu typed furiously. Don’t be literal

  You want me to figuratively shut up? He was teasing.

  Are you always this infuriating?

  Do you always have this bad a temper?

  Lulu had an immediate response for that, at least. Yes

  Then.

  Well.

  Lulu waited. Her patience was rewarded.

  I think you wanted to thank me not yell at me.

  She waited some more.

  Your thanks are duly noted.

  Lulu smirked. Duly noted?

  Indeed.

  Indubitably. She’d hit send then followed up quickly. Undoubtedly. Positively. Smatteringly.

  Are you flirting with me?

  Yes. No

  You’re definitely flirting. I asked Matt. He says you’re flirting.

  youre so irritating.

  Should I figuratively shut up or literally?

  Lulu couldn’t click enough keys to convey her frustration. She sent the message prematurely, to prevent typing for the whole next millennium. Ughhhhhhhhhhhh

  Youre cleverer than that. I’ll give you a minute to come up with a response.

  She needed some way to turn this conversation back right-side up. She felt her control slipping. This Matt hes writing your responses isnt he?

  Could be.

  maybe I should meet this guy

  You can’t. He’s busy.

  Lulu grinned, holding the screen close to her eyes under the sleeping bag. She flopped over onto her stomach from her back. With what?

  Not hanging out with you. I’m free though.

  Lulu absentmindedly bit at her thumbnail, tapping it lightly between her teeth without doing lasting damage to her fresh coat of paint. Youre shameless

  Sure. But is it working?

  Yes. Possibly

  All right.

  Id have to compare you both to know for sure

  Name the date and I’ll drag him along.

  I will so call your bluff

  Good. I dare you to.

  Saturday? Lulu held her breath for a response.

  Right now is technically Saturday.

  Dammit. fine

  Lunch?

  Lulu held back the emotions of that. She hadn’t told him she was fasting.

  Lulu gave the details of her whereabouts and then closed her phone. For a moment she froze, recognizing the giddy smile on her face; this might be a problem. Lulu didn’t much care for problems. She tucked that thought away as she drifted off to sleep.

  11

  Ben Saad’s Little Sister

  Lulu closed her eyes in the sunlight the next morning as she stood outside. She relaxed under the two degrees of warmth those rays provided. The days were getting too cold to wait in the shade. As the November air burst across her face, Lulu nearly abandoned her idea of waiting for the boys outside. She looked at the house—an enticing retreat to the warmth—when she heard a car approaching. A whomping, thrumming sound that could be heard before the lines of the car could be seen. A beat-up, tangerine-orange Datsun pulled up alongside her.

  A shaggy-looking boy who Lulu hadn’t seen before stepped out of the passenger side of the vehicle. “It is so damn early,” he said, stepping aside, nearly resembling the kind of southern gentlemen who open car doors for their dates. But there was nothing of the gentleman about him. He spoke gruffly and overly loud. The personal satisfaction of having a topic about which to complain radiated across his body. He possessed a stooping post
ure and cranky demeanor.

  Lulu liked him immediately.

  “Why am I here again?” the boy asked.

  “Lulu only asks me out when she’s dared to. And I dared her to ask us both,” James said, calm as you please. He smiled at Lulu.

  Lulu blinked. She was being teased. Again. She didn’t know James was capable of it, not in the pleasant sort of way.

  “Fair enough,” the disheveled boy responded. “But I don’t see how we’re gonna fit.”

  James leaned across the front seat. “Lulu, this is Matt.”

  Lulu held out her hand and Matt shook it. “Lulu Saad. Pleasure.”

  They released their hands. Lulu leaned around to inspect how much room there would be for her to sit in the car. Not much. Not much at all. Maybe Matt wasn’t a grouch so much as a realist.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Matt said.

  Lulu turned to face the direction of Matt’s gaze. Lo had bounded out of Audrey’s house. She headed rapidly toward them, in the clothes Lulu knew Lo had slept in—short-shorts and a camisole—no more, no less. Lulu stared. She was cold just looking at Lo. Plus, she didn’t know how to warn her new companions of what was to come. So she said nothing, standing uneasy and unsure. Noticing her behavior, James turned to the source of her and Matt’s attention. As though by instinct, both boys bore the expression of a character in a movie who looks up right before a truck barrels him over.

  “Lulu, did you take my flat iron with you?” asked Lo once she was close enough.

  “What?” Lulu looked around her. She didn’t have a purse with her—only house keys, her license, and a twenty burning a hole in her back pocket.

  Lo maintained direct eye contact with Lulu. Lulu ought to have melted into the pavement under such a gaze. The boys continued to stare. Lo ignored them.

  “My flat iron. You know I can’t make waves without my flat iron.” Lo might as well have been speaking Finnish, for all that Lulu seemed to understand her. Lo raised her eyebrows.

  “No,” Lulu said slowly. “No, I don’t have your flat iron.”

  “Hm. Okay,” Lo said, her voice bright and sunny.

  And then she turned. She elevator-looked the boys up and down. Lulu couldn’t believe how Lo could manage it, considering James still sat in the driver’s seat of the car. After Lo gave them each a once-over, she sniffed the air.

  “Who are you?” Lo trained her gaze on James. Her voice was still cloyingly sweet, but she didn’t ask; she demanded.

  “James Denair.”

  “Where are you taking her?” Another demand.

  “Lunch,” James shot back.

  “Lunch?” Lo asked, hardly waiting to take a breath.

  Matt’s eyes flitted back and forth between Lo and James.

  James, however, had had enough. “What are you, her mother?”

  Lo sniffed again. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Lo, you’re being ridiculous,” Lulu interjected. “I’m going to lunch. You don’t need to defend my honor. Lord.”

  Lo arched a sculpted eyebrow. “Lunch?”

  Lulu couldn’t answer that. She felt her stomach clench. Lo smirked. She turned to stare down James.

  “Lunch. Nothing else. I find her terrifying. Honest,” he said.

  Lo hummed for her little victory and leaned over Lulu to give a kiss on the cheek. “Enjoy your meal.” Lo’s eyes glittered. She eyed both boys once more and then vanished as quickly as she had appeared.

  “Fuck you, Lo,” Lulu shouted.

  But Lo either didn’t hear her or had chosen to ignore the comment. Lulu sighed. She looked over at James and Matt. She opened her mouth, but she wasn’t sure what she ought to say. She didn’t want to apologize for Lo. Nobody apologized for Lo.

  “Wow, she’s a…” But James seemed to have lost the word.

  “Don’t finish that,” Lulu said.

  James had the good sense to look chagrined. She climbed into the car. There wasn’t much of a back seat to speak of, so Lulu straddled the gearbox, one leg intruding into James’s driving space, the other taking up a bit of room in the passenger seat. There was no other seat where a third person could take up residence in the tiny car.

  “Abrasive?” Matt hopped into the passenger seat with ease. “Terrifying?”

  “Maybe,” Lulu said. “But when I was in seventh grade I didn’t realize I’d gotten my period and bled right through my skirt. Lo saw. She could have left me. She could have pointed and laughed and told everyone in the hallway. But she didn’t. She walked up right behind me and said, ‘I’ve got a sweater in my locker. Move.’ Then she tied it around my waist, after walking directly behind me the whole way. Doesn’t matter what she does or how she does it, I knew from then on she had my back.”

  Lulu didn’t know why she said it. Matt visibly tensed at the mention of periods. But Lulu didn’t care, and she couldn’t stop herself from telling that story. She felt defensive about Lo. People assumed so much, so quickly about her. She had such a tough, hard candy coating on the outside, they never checked to see what was at her core. They saw a bitch with a pretty face. Everyone always seemed to miss how much loyalty Lo had. Lulu didn’t.

  “Fair enough.” James looked over at where Lulu sat and grimaced. Exactly like Matt had, unfortunately.

  Then Lulu noticed the direction of his discomfort. The parking brake was nestled between her legs. Lulu held back a tiny smile. No wonder they hadn’t gone anywhere. And she thought he’d just been listening to her story attentively.

  “You don’t have a ton of crap for a girl who spent the night,” he said, still apparently doing the mental gymnastics of finding a tactful way to release the car from park.

  Lulu found his expression endearing, now that she understood it. She grabbed for the brake and lowered it. James sighed a small relief.

  Lulu tilted her head. “Am I supposed to?”

  “My sister always has a bag of stuff. You’ve maybe got keys, and a wallet somewhere, I guess.” James checked his rearview mirror.

  Lulu grinned, pushing up her glasses. She’d thrown out her contacts the night before. “Your sister must still be early in her slumber party career. I use all of Audrey’s stuff. Plus, I’ve always got dibs on her spare sleeping bag. The only thing I need are my glasses and a ride home.”

  “Toothbrush?” James asked.

  “She lets me leave one in her bathroom. We’re fully committed,” Lulu said, nodding thoughtfully.

  “Congrats,” James said.

  Lulu laughed. “In Arabic, we say mabrook. Instead of congrats.”

  “I’ll remember that for next time.” James put the car in gear.

  Matt groaned. “I’m sitting too close for flirting. And you’ve already told a story about periods.”

  “Period, period, period period period. Period. Period,” Lulu said, the perfect, smiling portrait of a lady.

  Her words left a good deal to be desired for Matt. He groaned, managing to slump farther down in his seat. James remained unruffled. Maybe he was playing it cool in front of Matt. Maybe not.

  “Period,” Lulu said, simpering.

  “Fine, you win,” said Matt, turning on the radio.

  Lulu was triumphant, all grin and hardly any girl at all.

  * * *

  Lulu watched. James had three bites left of his burger. Two if he took bites as big as Matt had been taking. Matt’s burger had been laid to waste ages ago. Lulu’s stomach rumbled lightly; no one but herself heard. She turned to stare out the window; the boys’ reflections glimmered over her view of the parking lot. Matt grabbed some fries. It was torture, the smell wafting off them, particularly after they had been so thoughtlessly, wonderfully covered in ketchup. Lulu suppressed a groan. She watched concern grow across James’s face. Lulu turned to Matt.

  “How’re you doing there, killer?” she asked.

  “Better,” Matt said through a mouthful of french fries. “I missed breakfast.”

  “Me too,” Lulu said.

&
nbsp; James froze midchew at her words. For a moment Lulu was unsure whether he’d choked. He gulped down the food, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat. He turned and stared at her, wide-eyed with horror.

  The edges of her lips turned upward. He’d figured it out—what Lo had been insinuating earlier, that he’d taken a girl out for a meal she couldn’t eat. He looked so helpless Lulu nearly laughed. He was quicker than most people, she’d give him that. Matt, he continued right on, stuffing fries in his mouth at least ten at a time, with globs of ketchup. It was a murder of everything Lulu had ever been trained to do at a dinner table.

  She couldn’t look away—a mix of fascination and horror captivating her attention. “You eat like my brother.”

  “God, there’s a male version of you? He must be an unholy terror,” Matt said, as though he’d known her for ages instead of an hour.

  “More than one, actually.” Lulu laughed despite herself. “And Ben is an unholy terror.”

  At this, Matt threw up his arms in disbelief and protest. Matt turned to James and exclaimed, “Holy hell. Do you realize who this is?”

  James looked at Matt with a look of intense concern. “Lulu?”

  “No.” Matt waved over Lulu. “This is Ben Saad’s little sister.”

  She was glad he no longer had french fries in his hand. Lulu had a feeling Matt would have made the exact same move, regardless—exactly like Ben. No wonder they had found each other.

  As the moniker of Ben and Reza Saad’s little sister was so rarely forced upon her, Lulu took it up with the joy of novelty. “You know Ben?”

  “I do,” said Matt.

  “And Reza, too?”

  “The incomparable Reza Saad. Of course,” said Matt. “We all played soccer together. I mean I played with Ben. Rez would help us out sometimes, after practice, when we asked for pointers. Small fucking world.” Matt laughed. “He mentioned you a couple of times. You are exactly what I pictured in Ben Saad’s little sister.”

  “But not like what you’d imagine for Rez,” Lulu countered.

  “Not quite.” Matt smiled in a way he thought to be conspiratorial, though to the wrong viewer it might come across as suggestive.