My door cracks open and Dadu comes inside, sitting on my bed and wrapping her arms around me. “I’m sorry, my dear,” she whispers, holding me tightly. “I wish they weren’t so hard on you.”
I can’t manage a reply, my cries muffled against her shoulder.
“It’s not your fault, Myra,” she says, stroking my hair. “I’ll talk to your dad when they get back. I know you’re just trying to help Alistair. If I thought he was a bad influence, I wouldn’t have let you go with him today, but he’s very sweet and he’s a good friend to you.”
“Dadu, I—I don’t know what to do,” I say, nearly choking on the words. “I don’t know how to do this anymore. I can’t—I’m not the daughter they want. I’m never going to be.”
“Oh, my darling,” Dadu murmurs, holding me even closer. There’s a pained expression on her face. “Don’t ever think that. You’re perfect as you are.”
“Not to them,” I say and burst into another round of tears. Dadu murmurs comforting words against my hair and keeps holding me until my sobs subside.
“Myra,” Dadu says, using her saree to wipe the remaining tears off my face. “No matter what, I want you to know I’m proud of you. You are enough. You are more than enough.”
However, she looks even more pained than before and it makes my own chest hurt. “Are you upset with me, too?”
“No,” Dadu says quickly, her expression fierce, but it subsides into something more melancholy. “I just wish I wasn’t failing you. Failing our family.”
“What? You could never,” I say, roughly scrubbing my face. “This isn’t your fault.”
Dadu’s mouth twists and she looks away. “Your Dada would be so sad to see this current state of affairs. All of you are going through so much, and there’s nothing I can do.”
“Dadu, it’s not your fault,” I say more firmly. She’s been my rock through this whole thing. I throw my arms around her and hug her tightly to get my point further across. My heart still throbs like an aching bruise, but this is more important. “I love you. Thank you.”
She kisses the side of my head, but her voice is somber when she says, “I love you, too.”
33
T-MINUS 14 DAYS
When I wake up at noon, I have multiple texts from Ace. Instead of reading them, I get out of bed, make Wudu, and complete the Dhuhr prayer. Once I’m finished, I start a group FaceTime with Nandini and Cora.
Neither hesitates to pick up, even though Nandini has to slip into the bathroom of her cousin’s home and Cora has to duck into an alcove of the mall in order to hear me.
Cora takes one look at my face and says, “We’re coming over tomorrow.”
I laugh weakly, throwing my head back against my pillow. “Please do.”
“Are you okay?” Nandini asks, voice low with concern.
I shake my head and swipe hastily at my eyes when tears begin to spill. I tell them everything my parents said the night before, and by the time I’m done, I feel lighter. Like a weight has lifted off my chest.
I’m so grateful to my friends for listening.
“I can’t stand your parents,” Cora says, her teeth grinding together. “Why do they always prioritize their own wants and needs before yours?”
“They’re not bad people.” I sink deeper in my blankets. “They just grew up differently, so they have different expectations for me. I don’t like letting them down.”
“I know. I get it. We’re second-generation Americans, and they want us to succeed in the ways that they couldn’t,” Nandini says. “I get it, Karina. I really do. My parents are the same. But that doesn’t mean I have to live my life for them. You can respect your parents’ wishes without becoming a puppet.”
“They’re projecting onto you, and it isn’t fair,” Cora adds. “They’ve restricted every part of your life. They don’t give you any freedom. It’s not right. Ace is just one of a million things they won’t let you have. What about wanting to be an English major? You should be allowed to study what you want. It’s your life. Not theirs!”
“This isn’t a fairy tale,” I say. I wish it was. I wish with all my heart this was a fairy tale with a guaranteed happy ending. “I can’t miraculously claim back my freedom and then ride off into the sunset with the prince charming of my choice. You know it’s not that easy.”
“You’ve never even tried!” Cora says, throwing her hands up, her shopping bags rustling on her arms. “Karina, you can’t let them make all your choices for you.”
“Cora, calm down,” Nandini says, shaking her head. “Yelling at Karina isn’t going to help.” She looks back at me. “I know it’s hard, babe. You love your parents. But sometimes, it’s okay to put yourself first.”
“You know I can’t,” I say, my throat tight. “They’ll never talk to me again. They’ll take away all my freedom. I’ll never see you guys outside school, I’ll never be able to call or text you, I’ll never be able to do anything I want. The little independence I have will be taken from me, and they’ll never trust me again. They’ll be so disappointed, and I—” This conversation is making me nauseated. “Can we talk about literally anything else?”
“You can’t always just change the subject whenever—”
“Cora,” Nandini says pointedly. There are some things that Cora pushes that we wouldn’t. Things she does that we couldn’t. Nandini’s brown parents are more lenient than mine, but Cora’s father is a white guy from France. He met her mother, who’s Chinese, when she was studying abroad, and they fell in love. Both of her parents are super modern and liberal and support her in almost all her decisions.
She still has it hard in other ways, especially with her sexuality, but for the most part, her parents have never restrained her the way mine have. It makes conversations like this difficult, because even though Cora tries to understand and be empathetic, there’s only so much that fits with her own experiences.
I don’t blame her for it. I know she wants the best for me and that she loves me. It’s just hard to take her advice when our parents would react wildly different to us doing the exact same thing.
Cora looks between us and sighs. “Yes, we can change the subject. So what exactly did you and Ace do yesterday on your double date?”
I offer a small smile in thanks for not pursuing the subject, even though I can see she wants to. “It wasn’t a double date.”
“It was definitely a double date,” Nandini says. “This, I’ll let Cora grill you about all she wants. He invited you to go bowling with his sister and her girlfriend, Karina. That’s a double date.”
“Samir was there!”
“Yeah, and he was the strange fifth wheel.”
“Oh my God, you two are horrible,” I say, but the urge to hug them is stronger than ever.
At the top of my screen, another notification flashes. Another text from Ace.
I swipe up without looking and continue talking to Nandini and Cora late into the night. Before we hang up, we make solid plans for them to come over the next day since Ma has yet to revoke permission.
When I finally end the call, I have five missed texts from Ace.
I bite my lip, debating whether to click into them, before admitting defeat.
Alistair Clyde:
watching the great gatsby (aren’t u proud) and maybe I am rich...
Alistair Clyde:
also what are ur plans for today?
Alistair Clyde:
karina are u feeling ok?
Alistair Clyde:
did I do smth wrong?
Alistair Clyde:
hey. sorry if I did anything to make you upset or uncomfortable. pls at least let me know ur alright when u can
I groan loudly and shove my face into my pillow.
Dadu happens to walk by my door then, cracked open from when she brought me dinner. She stops and loo
ks at me with raised eyebrows.
I shake my head, not having an answer to explain my predicament.
“Do you want to watch Beauty and the Beast?” she asks. She knows it’s my favorite childhood movie. “You don’t have school tomorrow since it’s spring break, right? So it’s okay to stay up late?”
Maybe my parents are making my life a psychological horror film, but at least my grandma is here.
“Yeah, Dadu, I’d love that,” I say, throwing my blanket off.
She smiles. “I just have to make one call and I’ll join you.”
I nod my agreement and head toward the living room to put on the movie. I make the active choice to leave my phone behind.
As I’m walking down the stairs, Samir climbs up them, and I avert my gaze. In the corner of my eye, I see a bewildered expression on his face, but I keep going without a word.
I’ve been avoiding Samir since yesterday. I don’t know what to say to him, how to explain this rising resentment. At the end of the day, I know most of the blame lies on my parents, but he still told them. I don’t know how to get past it.
When Dadu comes back, her expression is exhausted.
I falter. “Who were you talking to?”
She sighs. “Nabila. She’s having a rough time.”
Of course. I’m not even remotely surprised Dadu still reaches out to my estranged cousin, even though the whole family was supposed to cut her off.
I never doubted Dadu for a moment, but knowing she’s willing to put aside traditional beliefs in order to support Nabila is a huge relief. I’m glad Nabila has that.
Selfishly, I’m also glad to know all of us, no matter what happens, will always have Dadu in our corner.
Dadu and I curl up together on the couch, and she counts off beads on her misbaha as she hums along to some of the songs.
Halfway through the film, when Belle and Beast are in the library, Dadu glances at me. “You know, back in Bangladesh, I used to have shelves overflowing with books, too.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
“Yes,” Dadu says. “I remember wishing I could read forever. Your Dada and I would read to your dad and your uncles when they were younger. It was the only way we could get them to fall asleep. They’d always ask for more. Stories are such beautiful things.”
“They are,” I say in agreement, leaning my head against her bony shoulder. “I love them. Sometimes I wish I could read Bengali so I could read your books, too.”
Dadu squeezes my hand. “You remind me so much of myself when I was younger.”
“No way,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re way too cool.”
Dadu laughs but it’s a dismal sound. She must still feel bad from yesterday. I wish she wouldn’t. “You’re cool, Myra. And you’re so smart. You have so many books, I’m worried you’ll need a second room just to store them all.”
I nod seriously. “Let’s kick Samir out. His room can become a library.”
“Myra,” she says, exasperated. “We’re not kicking Samir out. I just wanted you to know I’m so proud of you. You’re becoming such an amazing woman.”
“Dadu, stop,” I say, cheeks warming. “You’re too nice.”
“I’m being serious. Every day, I grow more proud of you. You work so hard.”
It’s near midnight, but hearing her praise makes me feel like I’m basking in sunlight. “I don’t know about all that.”
“I do,” Dadu says. “You’re like Belle. Brave, beautiful, and smart. I’m lucky to have you as my granddaughter.”
“You have to say that,” I say, ducking my head. “You’re my grandma.”
“I’d be proud of you even if I wasn’t your grandma. I hope you know I’ll always support you no matter what.”
I look at her and think about the conversation we had last night. I think about the conversation we had just a little earlier, about Nabila. I think about all the conversations I’ve been having with my friends. I think about all the conversations I’ve had with Ace. About my past and my future.
Maybe...maybe if Dadu supports me, there’s hope. Maybe she can talk to my dad and he can talk to my mom, maybe, maybe, maybe. Just maybe.
“Dadu,” I say slowly, focusing on her lap, rather than her face. “What if I don’t want to be a doctor?”
She stops counting her beads. “You don’t want to be a doctor?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m not good at science.”
“But do you like it? You don’t have to be good at it. Practice makes perfect.”
I shake my head. “I don’t.”
There’s a beat of silence and I tense, waiting for her to tell me I’m being immature and ridiculous. Except, all she says is, “What do you want to do then, Myra?”
“I don’t know,” I say again. “I really love English. Maybe I could be a teacher or something.”
“Oh. English. That makes sense,” Dadu says, her tone thoughtful. I chance a glance at her and find her staring at me in consideration. “Have you talked to your parents?”
I grimace. “I brought it up briefly, months ago. It didn’t go well.”
“Are you set on your decision?” Dadu pauses the movie to give me her full attention.
Set on my decision? I haven’t made a decision. “I don’t know,” I say, once again. I sound like an indecisive airhead, but thankfully Dadu is still looking at me seriously. “I...don’t want to be a doctor.”
Dadu looks at me for a long time before taking a deep breath, as if she’s bracing herself. “Okay. Do you want to tell your parents? We can figure it out together.”
The painful relief that hits me is the best punch to the stomach I’ve ever felt. I would happily let someone hit me over and over if it felt like this. “You’re not mad?”
“I could never be mad at you, Myra,” Dadu says, patting my cheek. “If you killed someone, I would help you bury the body. If this is what you want, then I’ll help you. Life is so short... You shouldn’t have to spend it being unhappy. None of us should.”
“I know but I thought—they... I don’t know,” I finish weakly.
“The older I am, the more I realize it’s not worth it to prioritize things that make you miserable,” Dadu says. “I don’t want that for you. We’re going to figure this out, okay? One day at a time.”
I turn my face into her hand, nodding. This is the most comforted I’ve felt about this subject in a long time. Maybe ever. I don’t know if I’m going to tell my parents, if I can ever be that selfish, but it’s good to know that if I do, Dadu will help me. “One day at a time.”
PART 3
Inferno
34
T-MINUS 13 DAYS
“Wait, but do you really think it’d work?” Cora asks, her mouth stuffed with popcorn.
“You’re the one who came up with the idea,” Nandini says, raising a pointed eyebrow.
Cora shrugs. “Yeah, but I don’t even know my own name half the time.”
I laugh, nudging her foot with mine. It’s the first day of our break and we’re sitting together in my living room, Netflix on the television and snacks littered on the floor.
We had plans to see the new Marvel movie later in the evening, but we decided to forego the theater to stay in and spend time together. Mostly because Nandini’s manager has gotten worse, and she can barely stand being under the same roof as her.
Cora and I are nothing if not supportive.
“I just don’t know if the luggage approach is viable,” I say. “I feel like you’ll need something bigger if you’re going to illegally sneak me into junior prom.”
“What if we just stuff you in a car trunk?” Cora says with a grin and offers me the bowl of popcorn. I take a handful and pass it back.
“I sincerely hope the FBI doesn’t actually monitor our phones,” Nandini says, shaking he
r head. “Otherwise all three of us are about to go to jail for attempted kidnapping.”
“Is it really kidnapping if I consent to being taken?” I ask, stroking an imaginary beard.
We’re all still laughing when Dadu wanders through the living room on her way to the kitchen, her expression somber, still carrying the weight of yesterday on her shoulders. When she sees us, she pastes on a smile. “Do you need anything?”
“No,” I say, offering a dismal smile back. “But thank you.”
“Of course. If any of you beautiful girls need anything, I’m just upstairs. Let me know.”
Then Dadu looks at Nandini and says something in Hindi, which she’s fluent in. Nandini grins and says something in return.
When Dadu leaves, Nandini says, “Your grandma is honestly the best.”
“I agree,” Cora says. “But what did she say?”
“She just told me she liked my hair.” Nandini pets her short curls. “I love her.”
I smile faintly. “Me too.”
“She really is the best.” Cora reclines against the couch. “Anyway, where were we? Oh, yeah. So, I kind of want to ask Holly Harrison to junior prom. It’s three months away, so there’s still time. I know we said it was going to be a solo affair, but since Ace took the plunge, I thought maybe...”
“Don’t mention Ace,” I say halfheartedly.
Cora offers me an apologetic grin, tapping my knee. “Sorry, K.”
“Holly is the cute girl from our chemistry class last year who shaved her head, right?” Nandini asks, moving the conversation along. “Is she into girls?”
“I have no idea,” Cora says, her lips pursed. “I want to say yes. My gaydar is going off.”
“I think I’ve seen her on the GSA Instagram,” I say, reaching for my phone to verify it. “That’s not a guarantee, but it definitely raises the possibility.”
“She’s so pretty,” Cora says, flopping into my lap. I smile down at her as I continue to scroll through our school’s GSA Instagram page. “I just want to kiss her face.”
Nandini snorts. “You’re so weird.”
Counting Down with You Page 22
