She raises an eyebrow, like she actually doubts me. “You’ll chicken out.”
“I won’t chicken out. I promise, I’ll tell her. I just need to … prepare. Let’s just go to dinner, yeah?”
Ishu still doesn’t look like she believes I’ll actually tell Amma, but she follows me downstairs silently anyway.
chapter ten
ishu
THE BUS RIDE HOME FEELS STRANGELY PEACEFUL, EVEN though agreeing to do this whole fake dating thing should be making me panic. After all, it’s a big lie. And it’s going to take a lot to spend all that time with Hum—Hani and her friends.
Still—there was something peaceful about having dinner in her house. Aditi Aunty made chicken curry, and it was the best chicken I’ve ever had. Even better than Ammu’s—though I’ll obviously never tell her that. I can see myself getting used to Aditi Aunty’s cooking … to sitting at that dinner table opposite Hani, who gave me the warmest smile when I complimented her Mom’s cooking… .
I’m still thinking about the chicken curry when I get off the bus. On the horizon, I can see the dipping sun. The sky is a cascade of colors, slowly getting darker and darker the closer I get to my house.
I spot Nik when I’m still a few minutes away. Suddenly, I feel like I’ve been transported back in time to Friday afternoon. Except there’s none of that impatient air about her today.
“Did you call me?” I ask as I approach her, slipping my phone out of my pocket to check. Just in case. But Nik shakes her head.
“I was just around the neighborhood …”
“How long have you been waiting?”
She sighs. “A little while. I just wanted to see how Abbu and Ammu are doing.”
I push past her and open the front door. She steps into the house after me, and there’s such a marked difference between how she enters today and how she entered on Friday, that I feel a pang of worry in my chest. On Friday, Nik just felt like Nik, my older sister who has been outshining me my entire life. Today, Nik seems small. Defeated. Like someone I don’t even know.
“Do you think they’ll be up for meeting my fiancé?” she asks. “We’re supposed to go back to London next week, so—”
“They’re still mad,” I interrupt her. “I don’t think that’s just going to go away … Nik, I don’t understand. Why don’t you just go back to university and put off your marriage to this guy until you finish your degree? You don’t have long to go.”
“Two more years is a long way to go, Ishu.” Nik’s voice is heavy. Her decision is finalized, I know. There’s nothing I can do here to change her mind. “I already handed in my paperwork anyway. I can’t change my mind. Not until a year later, at least.”
“If he loved you, would he not wait until—”
“Ishita.” Her voice is somber. Reprimanding.
I hold my palms up to show that I mean no harm. “I’m just trying to understand your logic. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it.”
“Have you even talked to Ammu and Abbu about me and Rakesh?”
“It’s been difficult,” I say. Still, I feel guilt wrap around me. I’ve been so concerned with myself that I haven’t really thought about Nik. Then again, should I really feel guilty about it? Nik has been my sister for my whole life, and in all that time she has never put me over herself. So I don’t know why she expects me to put her and her fiancé over me. “Ammu and Abbu have been taking out their frustrations on me, you know. Like they think if they don’t give me enough attention I’ll become a fuckup too.” I pause, catching Nik’s eyes. “I mean—”
“They think I’m a fuckup, huh? Or is that you?”
“Not me,” I say in too much of a rush.
Nik shakes her head. “Ishu, one day you’ll realize that … that living up to Abbu and Ammu’s wild expectations of us is not all that it’s cracked up to be.”
“What the hell does that mean?” The more she talks, the less Nik seems like my sister. If someone told me that the real Nik was abducted by aliens and replaced with this version, I would fully believe them. Or maybe it could even be a clone situation. Anything other than this really being Nik. These words really coming out of her lips. So different from the sister I have known for my whole life.
“It means that …” She sighs and shakes her head like I’m not worth sharing her thoughts with. “Don’t worry about it. I should go.”
“You’re not going to wait to talk to Ammu and Abbu?” I check my watch—it’s seven o’clock, which means at least one of them should be home soon. The South Asian grocery shop we own in town usually closes at six on the weekdays.
“Not today,” Nik says. For a moment, as she hovers by the front door, taking her leave, I notice that Nik looks aged. Like the past few days, telling Ammu and Abbu about her plans, have made her older than her years. Like they’ve taken something from her.
I wonder for a moment if I’ve contributed to it too. By focusing on myself instead of trying to help her. I wonder if I should tell her that I will—somehow—find a way to make Ammu and Abbu come around. If I should promise to keep my word this time.
Instead, I say, “Okay … see you, I guess.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment. Then, mumbling, “See you, Ishu,” she disappears out the door.
chapter eleven
hani
We should go on a date
Like … a fake one …
I wake up the next morning to Ishu’s message brightly glaring at me from my phone screen.
It’s six o’clock, a whole hour before I usually get up for school, so I’m a little cranky as I sit up and hit the video chat button on Instagram.
“Hey!” Ishu looks ready for the day, with her school uniform on and her hair perfectly brushed. “Good morning.” She smiles that half-pained smile, and it looks better than it did yesterday—so that’s … something.
“You know it’s six o’clock, right?” I try to fix my hair. “Like … dawn.”
Ishu’s smile widens. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. You have bed head.”
I click the camera off and crawl out of bed. “What do you mean we should go on a date? When?”
“Like … today? After school? People have to know that we’re together, right?”
“And how will they know if we go on a date?” I prop the phone up on the top of my sink as I begin brushing my teeth.
“I mean, we would have to show them. Photos and stuff.” She shrugs. “Isn’t that what people do?” She seems like she’s genuinely asking, like Ishu doesn’t really know what people do.
“Aa-gesh,” I say through a mouth full of toothpaste. Somehow, Ishu seems to understand me, even though she rolls her eyes.
“So …? We could go to a fancy restaurant or something?”
“And you’re going to pay for me?” I ask.
“I said a fake date, Hum—Hani.” She catches herself at the last minute. “If I’m paying for it, then we’re going to McDonalds.”
I sigh. “Sure, we can go somewhere ‘fancy,’ but like … within a limit and with some vegetarian options, please.”
“Are you … vegetarian?” Ishu narrows her eyes, like vegetarianism is something unheard of.
“Not … exactly, no.” I don’t remember the last time anyone questioned me about this. I’ve gotten used to just saying I’m vegetarian because it’s much easier than having to have a discussion about halal and haram. When I mentioned it to Aisling, she started going on about animal cruelty and how religion wasn’t a good reason for killing animals in such cruel ways. She wouldn’t listen to me, no matter how many times I tried to explain that the way Muslims kill animals for halal meat is no more cruel than the way non-Muslims do it.
“I eat halal.” I finally spit it out. “That’s like—”
“I know what halal is,” Ishu says. “I’m Bengali, remember?”
“Yeah, but you’re not Muslim.”
“I’m also not ignorant,” Ishu retorts. “You could have just
said we should go somewhere that’s halal.”
“There aren’t a lot of halal options in Dublin.”
Ishu shrugs. “I don’t mind … I don’t want us to go somewhere that you don’t like …”
“Right …”
“I mean,” Ishu adds. “I’m trying to look like a nice person. Caring that your girlfriend can eat the food at the restaurant you’re going to is like … compassionate, right?”
I have to bite back a smile. “I would definitely say that falls into the category of compassion.”
“Good!” Ishu smiles, sitting straight with her shoulders back like she’s proud of herself for managing this very minimal form of compassion all by herself. “So … I can research some places we can go and … I’ll see you at your locker at three o’clock. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Have you told Aditi Aunty yet?” I knew this was going to come up. I meant to tell Amma last night, after Ishu had left and she had curiosity plastered all over her face. Since she didn’t ask me any questions I decided to just leave it be for the moment. But if Ishu and I are going to make it official all over our social media profiles, then I definitely need to tell Amma before that happens.
“I’ll tell her today.”
“Don’t chicken out.” Her voice is firm, like she’s a teacher scolding me.
“I won’t chicken out!” I exclaim. “Why are you up so early in the morning anyway? Nightmares about not making Head Girl?”
“This is when I’m normally up,” Ishu says. “I wake up early to study. Mornings are like … the time when I focus the best.”
“Oh.” I wonder for a moment if Ishu does anything other than study, because that’s all I’ve ever heard her talk about. She must have some hobbies, right? Some interests other than constantly studying? Even if she’s lacking in the whole friendship department …
Before I can ask—before I can even formulate a question—Ishu looks at the watch on her wrist and declares, “I should get to that. Tell Aunty. And I’ll see you later. Bye!” And then the screen is blank.
“You woke up early today,” Amma says as soon as I descend the stairs. There’s a question in her voice, though she doesn’t ask it.
“Yeah.” I pick my words slowly, because I’m not sure how to say this. Lying to Amma is definitely not something that comes easy to me. “Ishita called me and woke me up.”
“Oh … I didn’t know you were that kind of friends,” Amma says with a raised eyebrow.
I take a deep breath and admit, “Actually, we’re not. We’re not really friends at all. I mean … we are, but like … not friends like … like …” Amma is staring at me as if she knows exactly what I’m about to say. So I just say it. “Ishita and I are kind of seeing each other.” The words come out in a rush. Somehow, Amma seems to understand me, because she looks taken aback. So maybe she didn’t know what I was about to say at all.
“Oh,” she says after a moment of hesitation. “That’s … not what I expected but … I’m glad. I’m happy for you!” She sounds happy—but in a clipped, fake way. I look down, instead of at the fake smile on her lips.
“It’s just, like … new,” I explain. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I was just … figuring things out?”
“Hani.” Suddenly, Amma’s arms are wrapped around me in an embrace. I can smell the scent of her coconut shampoo and sweet, rose-tinted perfume. “I’m happy for you. Really happy for you.” She sounds sincere this time. She sighs once we’ve parted and says,” It’s just that Ishita is … well, really interesting. Very intense.”
“She’s … nice.” I flinch once the words are out, because of all the words that anybody could use to describe Ishu, nice is not one of them. Even Amma knows that. “I mean, she is intense. But … I like that. And, you know, she gets me. And she’s like … um … a good influence? With her intense need to study and everything.”
“You know I don’t think you need to throw yourself into your academics in the Dey style,” Amma says. “I don’t want her to convince you that that unhealthy attitude to academics is aspirational.”
“She won’t,” I say. “But … I … like her.” I don’t know if I sound convincing. I must because Amma nods firmly.
“Well, good. I’m happy for you. You can tell Ishita that she’s welcome at our place any time.”
“Oh, but she’s not out to Aunty and Uncle,” I add quickly, as I begin to pour my cereal. “So we should keep it on the down low, you know.”
“Okay, got it,” Amma says. Just like that.
Sometimes, I feel astonished at how easy Amma and Abba have made things for me. How easily I can be myself with them. How easily they’ll accept everything about me and their willingness to talk things out.
Today is one of those days for sure.
And for that reason, the guilt clenching my guts is just that much stronger.
Aisling and Dee don’t bring up Ishu at all for the whole school day, but there’s a kind of tension hanging over us. There has been since Ishu called me away at lunch yesterday. Like something unspoken in the shape of Ishu is standing between me and the two of them.
Still, Aisling goes on about how she failed her biology test like everything is normal. And Dee spends most of the day fawning over how Colm bought her tickets to her favorite band’s concert for her birthday. She goes on and on about it, like Colm singlehandedly invented romance or something.
At the end of the day, as the three of us are gathering our books by our lockers, Ishu comes up to us tentatively. Aisling and Dee immediately stiffen, and silence washes over us. It’s like just Ishu’s presence is enough to make them both uncomfortable.
“Hey.” I can tell Ishu is trying to be pleasant, even through her clipped tone. “Aisling, Deirdre …” She gives them both a nod of acknowledgment that’s too serious to be considered friendly. Then, she turns to me and says, “Ready, Humaira?”
“I’m going to need a couple more minutes,” I say. I brought my P.E. bag with a simple change of clothes—a dress and a pair of leggings. I even brought over my makeup bag, though I’m not sure exactly what the protocol is supposed to be here. All I know is that I definitely don’t want to go to any fancy restaurant wearing my puke green school uniform.
“All right …” Ishu mumbles, still hovering by our lockers. She’s dressed in faded blue jeans and a baby pink hoodie with a doodle of a cat on it. So I guess we’re dressing down. “I’ll see you outside in ten?”
“Sounds good.”
With a curt nod, Ishu turns away, and disappears around the corner of the corridor.
“You guys aren’t really together,” Aisling says. It’s a statement, not a question. “I mean … you can’t be.”
“Why would I say we were if we weren’t?” I swing my P.E. bag out of my locker, avoiding eye contact.
“You’re not even—I mean—”
“I like Ishita.” Dee’s statement has both Aisling and me swinging around so fast that I’m pretty sure I get whiplash.
“You do?” Aisling makes it sound as if liking Ishita is as unthinkable as eternal life or visiting the sun.
“She’s interesting!” Dee exclaims, like Ishu is something to marvel at. “I’ve never really met someone like her before. I mean … I don’t know her very well, but …” She shrugs her shoulders. “She’s my chemistry lab partner and she has such laser focus. It’s amazing.”
“I didn’t know you knew her at all,” I say. Ishu is not in any of my classes except biology. She takes some of the hardest classes you can take because I guess that’s how she plans to enroll in the best university that’ll take her. Plus, I know that she takes an extra subject outside of school as well. To make herself look even more impressive than she already is, I guess.
Dee shrugs again. “You know, you should bring her to my birthday party on Saturday.”
“I will!” The words tumble out of me in a rush. I had been trying to figure out how I could suggest bringing Ishu without Aisling ge
tting mad about it. Aisling still looks mad at the idea that Ishu might be coming, but since it’s Dee’s birthday and she made the invite unprompted, Aisling can’t really say anything about it, can she?
Ishita is waiting by the gates of the school when I finally leave. I’m wearing a forest green dress that Aisling got for me for my last birthday. It has white flowers sketched all over it. I even managed to dab on some eyeliner. All of it is lost on Ishu though, because she barely glances at what I’m wearing.
“Come on, we’ll take the Luas.” She turns and begins walking, her runners squeaking against the damp pavement. I have to jog to keep up with her.
We get the Luas into town together, an awkward silence hanging over us for the whole journey. I feel like I’m actually on a first date, rather than just a pretend one.
“Where are we going?” I ask when Ishu begins to lead me past streets I’m familiar with, and into alleys that I’ve never been in.
“Trust me, I know this really cool place that’s halal,” she says. “You’ll love it.”
I wonder how she knows that I’ll love it when we barely know each other. I guess just the place being halal is a good start.
We weave past a few more alleys, and I’m glad that we’re close enough to the summer months that daylight lasts until eight o’clock. I definitely wouldn’t want to be in these dodgy alleys after it’s gone dark.
Finally, Ishu comes to a stop in front of a tiny restaurant, squeezed between a pub and a newsagent’s. The name of it is written in fancy cursive writing at the top: Seven Wonders.
“This place is tiny,” I say.
“But nice,” Ishu counters. “Come on. I made a booking, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
I take a quick picture for my Instagram story, even though it feels wrong. But we’re here to document our “date” more than anything else.
The place must be kind of a rare find. Maybe that’s why it’s called Seven Wonders, because it seems to be a wonder of its own. Only a dozen or so seats are squeezed into the tiny space, brimming with beautiful decorations. There are pictures of wonders of the world all over the walls: gushing waterfalls, lush rainforests and jungles, ancient buildings brimming with history. Each of the booths is parted from the others with a curtain of beads that clink together almost harmoniously. The music—Arabic from the sounds of it—is somehow both melodious and calming.
Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating Page 6
