The Circle of Lies

by Crystal Velasquez

  Her mother frowned at her. “That’s enough.”

  Dad sighed. “Putting aside Kiah’s rudeness for the moment”—he aimed a look of warning her way, and she wiped the smirk off her face—“she and Sonia are right. It was your actions that forced you to meet them this way. Your mother told me that you were finally doing well at Temple Academy before this incident. None of us expected that you would do anything to get expelled.”

  Kiah laughed out loud then. “Why not? Isn’t this the eighth school to kick her out?”

  Fourth, I thought miserably. But I didn’t think that sounded any better than “eight.”

  “I said that’s enough, Kiah!” Sonia said firmly.

  My new stepsister held up her hands in surrender, but she was clearly amused by my suffering. Usually I had a quick comeback ready for people like her. Living with Nicole for a semester had really honed my skills. But as I looked around the table at all of their faces, I saw myself the way they must have seen me—as a troublemaker, a loser, a budding felon. Not exactly anyone’s idea of an ideal family member.

  I stared down at my plate, shoving the potatoes and almonds from one side of my plate to the other. This was one of my favorite dishes, and usually I would have devoured it in less than five minutes. But my appetite had shriveled up and died—sort of like any hopes I’d had for the future.

  “Can I be excused?” I asked at last. “I just want to go to my room and lie down.”

  “You mean my room,” Kiah said. “You’re just visiting.”

  “The room belongs to both of you for now,” Dad corrected with a sigh, “and no, you may not be excused. In this house we all have chores. Tonight you’ll wash dishes. There are no free rides here.”

  I sighed, wondering if there was an app that would make everyone forget how badly I’d screwed up.

  Even though the apartment had a dishwasher right next to the sink, they never used it. Sonia explained that they had the money to afford a few luxuries, but they believed that doing things for themselves kept them humble and gave them character. All it seemed to be giving me was pruny fingers.

  “Can I help?” Dad asked, joining me at the sink.

  “It’s a free country,” I said, shifting to make room for him. “Right? I keep forgetting I’m not in America anymore.”

  “Yes,” he said. “India is a democracy. As soon as I have some time off from work, I’ll show you around so you can see what a beautiful country it is.” He rolled up his sleeves and picked up a dish, running it under the faucet. Then he grabbed a soapy sponge and moved his hand in a circle around the plate. I did the same, and for a few seconds we were in sync.

  “I’m sorry about springing all of this on you, Shani,” he said suddenly. “I am. But you have to understand. In my day, people didn’t tell their families important news over e-mail or even by phone. You went around and told everyone in person out of respect. I wanted to show you the same respect.”

  I nodded, glad to be hearing him out for the first time without anyone else listening in. “Okay. I get that,” I said. “But why didn’t you come to see me sooner?”

  He gave me a rueful smile. “I know you think I’m rich, Shani, but that simply isn’t the case. Especially now with your sister Solaj in college, and Rana heading to Yale in the fall. Don’t you know that if I could, I’d come see you every month? I would have loved for all three of my daughters to be a part of the wedding too. But I didn’t want any of you to miss time from school, and flying to see you on a moment’s notice just wasn’t possible. That’s why I was so looking forward to next month. I couldn’t wait to tell you everything.”

  I sneaked a quick peek at my dad, noting how much younger he looked than most of my friends’ fathers, even though they were the same age. He still had his diplomat ID clipped to his shirt pocket, which reminded me that he spent most of his day trying to make life better for other people. “Dad, can I ask you something?”

  “Anything,” he said.

  I hesitated. “Well, I didn’t even know you were . . . I mean, when did you start dating again?”

  He glanced at me, as if trying to gauge how much he should tell me. He seemed to decide I was old enough to hear it all.

  “Do you know how your mother and I met?” he asked. When I shook my head, he said, “We met through a matchmaker in Cairo. The first time I saw your mother was in her living room, surrounded by her entire family. We met there twice more and decided to get married a few months later.”

  I nearly dropped the plate I was holding. “You mean—you barely knew Mom when you married her?”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Our marriage was arranged, or what they sometimes call a ‘salon marriage.’ We were both so young, but both of our families were pressuring us to marry, so we agreed to it. For the most part, we were happy too, especially when you girls came along. But in many ways we remained strangers to each other. With that distance eventually came resentment. After we divorced, I didn’t see anyone. Not for a long time. I didn’t even know how to go about dating, since I had never really done it.”

  “So how did you end up with Sonia?”

  He smiled. “In the best way. We were friends first. When I moved to Mumbai, I decided I needed to get familiar with the city as quickly as possible. So I signed up for a tour. Sonia was my guide. We hit it off right away and started spending time together as friends. We’d both been divorced and had children, so we had that in common. We talked for hours and made each other laugh. I never knew it could be that way. Soon I realized that without even noticing, I had fallen in love.”

  “And she did too?” I asked.

  “I hope so,” he said, laughing. “Otherwise, agreeing to marry me was a big mistake.”

  I laughed too, then said, “In that case I’m happy for you. I just wish you had told me.”

  “I know, sweetheart. But like I said, I thought I was going to see you soon and my news could wait until then. There’s no way I could have known that you would be expelled again.”

  I winced.

  “I know that must be a sore subject,” he continued. “Are you ready to talk about it yet? I’d love to hear your side.”

  I shook my head. I hadn’t figured out what I was going to tell him. I didn’t want to lie, but the truth would land me on a psychiatrist’s couch. “Not tonight, okay?” I begged.

  “All right,” he said. “We’ll leave it alone. For now. Are there any other questions you want to ask me?”

  “Only about a million,” I replied. “But let’s start with what school I’ll go to now. Not that I’d mind a little vacation, but I don’t want to fall too far behind.”

  Dad picked up a kitchen towel and started drying the wet dishes and stacking them in the cupboard. “Actually,” he said, “I’ve hired a private tutor so you can be homeschooled for the rest of the semester.”

  “Homeschooled?” I dropped the sponge into the soapy water and faced him. “Is that your way of punishing me?”

  Dad raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. “Punishing you? I thought you would love it. I thought you could use a break, some time to regroup . . .”

  “A break, sure, but homeschooling is like being grounded all the time. I’d never get to leave this apartment, and the only people I’d talk to all day would be the tutor and the doorman. You really can’t see how lonely I would be?”

  Dad breathed out hard and rolled his sleeves back down. “The truth is,” he started, “I did try to get you into Kiah’s school, but they wouldn’t take you. They took one look at the disciplinary actions in your file and . . .” He spread his hands in front of him as if the rest were self-explanatory. “Maybe next term will be different. Once your grades are up and you’ve shown that you can handle being in a school setting again, maybe they’ll give you another chance. But for now this is the best I could do. I’m sorry.”

  I hung my head in shame, feeling my stomach churn unpleasantly. I was a total embarrassment to him. I couldn’t even imagine what it mu
st have felt like for him to beg schools to let me in, only to be told that his daughter was a reject. Of course Kiah’s school hadn’t wanted me. What did I expect?

  “Okay,” I said, feeling tears building up behind my eyes. “Thank you for trying. May I be excused now?”

  “Yes,” he said. “But first, how about a hug for your old dad?”

  I ran into his arms and pressed my face against his chest, careful to turn my damaged ear away from him. Then I sobbed into his shirt, clinging to him for dear life. I had needed this hug ever since I’d been kicked out of Temple Academy.

  “Shh, shh.” He kissed the top of my head. “I know there have been a lot of surprises for you today, and I’m sorry about that, but everything’s going to be okay now. Do you believe me?”

  I nodded against his chest. I wanted to believe him, anyway. But for now, pretending would have to do.

  After I pulled away and wiped my face, I asked the really important question, the answer to which really would make me feel at home and like maybe one day things would go back to normal.

  “Dad . . . will you give me your Wi-Fi password?”

  He laughed. “I can’t believe it took you this long to ask.” He pulled out his wallet and dug around before handing me a slip of paper. “I had a feeling you’d need one, so I set up an account just for you. Here’s your username and password. Feel free to change it to whatever you’d like.” For the third time that day, I hugged my father. Room and board were great, but nothing says you care like giving a girl her own Wi-Fi account. Just before I left the room, I stopped in the doorway and turned back. “Dad, one more question.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Are you happy? I mean, with Sonia?”

  He smiled, his eyes no longer droopy or sad. “Very.”

  “All right,” I said. “Then I am too.”

  Back in the room, I looked around at the posters and pictures Kiah had plastered all over the walls. There were some from Bollywood movies I’d never heard of, and some American ones, like the Twilight poster that featured Jacob and his pack of wolves. Then there were collages of Kiah and her friends mugging for the camera, and a few of Kiah in a beautiful red sari that she must have worn to the wedding. She had covered nearly every surface. The only part of the room that was clearly mine was the twin bed that had been shoved into the corner farthest from the window. Kiah had left a note on it that said, This one’s yours. Don’t even THINK of sitting on mine.

  Yeah, this roommate situation was going to work out just great.

  I sat on my bed and turned on my phone for the first time since arriving. Dad must have already switched me to an international plan, because as soon as the screen loaded, I saw that I had at least ten texts and twice as many e-mails from my friends back at Temple.

  How are you? Are you okay? Sorry about all the blubbering yesterday. (Ana)

  OMG come back! Ferris wants to give me a new roommate. NO! (Doli)

  I miss you. Tell anybody, and I’ll deny it. (Lin)

  Morning assembly was boring without you. (Ana)

  Your haircut started a trend. They’re calling it the Shani. Saw three already today. (Doli)

  Any cute boys in India? Details, please. (Lin)

  I knew I should write back and tell them about everything that had happened. But I didn’t know where to start. Plus, I didn’t want to start crying again. I settled for sending out a group text:

  Don’t worry. Made it to Mumbai in one piece. I MISS U GUYS SOOO MUCH!!! TTYL

  That would have to be enough for tonight. I pulled my pajamas out of my suitcase and changed, then put my regular clothes back in the case. No surprise, Kiah hadn’t left me any room in the closet or in her dresser. I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes, hoping that Lin’s words from the other night would be true for me too: Everything will look better in the morning.

  I really hope so, I thought, and fell asleep.

  chapter 7

  Shani

  I GROANED AND SLOWLY OPENED one eye. I knew I should have gone to the bathroom before I fell asleep. But my internal clock was all thrown off. The clock on the nightstand next to Kiah’s bed said that it was 2:17 a.m., but that meant it was 1:47 p.m. in New Mexico. Was I half a day ahead or half a day behind? All I knew was that here it was the middle of the night, and I had to go . . . bad. The last thing I wanted to do was drag myself out of bed, but I refused to add “wet the bed” to my list of accomplishments this year.

  I sat up, still half-asleep. Thankfully, the bathroom was just down the hall on the right. I made it there and back to my room—excuse me, our room—without bumping into any walls, but before I climbed into bed, I noticed that Kiah wasn’t in hers. That’s weird, I thought. Had she been there when I’d gotten out of bed? I hadn’t noticed.

  I stepped toward her bed to check on her. Maybe she had fallen on the floor?

  That was when something grabbed me from behind and pulled me down with a thud.

  My heart leaped into my throat, and icy panic shot down my spine. “Gah!” My head bounced off the hardwood floor, and everything went black for a few moments. When I came to, my vision was blurred and my stomach heaved. I felt dizzy and confused.

  “What’s going—” But before I could get the whole question out, something clamped down on both my arms and started dragging me down the hall toward the living room.

  “Hey!” I yelled, flailing my legs and trying to yank my arms out of the vise grip they were in, but it was no use. Whatever had me continued to jerk me along. My pajama top had crept up, and my bare back scraped along the hardwood floor, the friction burning my skin. My neck grew slick with sweat, and my heart thumped out of control. What is happening?

  This has to be a dream, I thought frantically. Wake up, Shani! Wake up! But if it was a dream, it was the most vivid one I’d ever had. All the lights in the apartment were off, so I couldn’t see anything; I could only focus on the pain in my shoulders and the sharp objects tearing through my pajama sleeves and scratching at my skin.

  Suddenly I was dumped onto the area rug in the living room, my arms feeling like they had been stretched into noodles. I rubbed my sore head and tried to will my eyes to adjust to the dark. I craned my head to see who—or what—had dragged me in here, but I was completely alone. In my blindness I heard the front door open with a creak. And then I caught the unmistakable whiff of feral dogs.

  It was a common enough smell on the streets of Cairo, where I’d grown up. There were times when it seemed like there were more stray dogs than humans there, and some of them had been so wild, they were closer to wolves than dogs. Once that rank smell got into your nostrils, it was almost impossible to forget. That was what I smelled now—the stink of sewers and day-old meat rising up from hot breath near my face.

  I should have run, but fear had frozen my limbs in place.

  I lifted my head enough to make out several pairs of glowing yellow eyes circling around me, restless and primal. Before I could make myself move, the largest dog let out a terrifying growl, and they all attacked as one.

  I screamed at the top of my lungs and curled into a ball, trying to protect my head. I felt their fangs rip at my pajamas. Any minute they would find just the right spot on my throat and this fight would be over. I had to turn into a lion—right now—but I couldn’t concentrate. I had zoomed right by fear and arrived straight at abject terror.

  Come on, Shani, get it together! Show these mutts who they’re messing with. I pictured my heavy lion paws, my golden fur and powerful haunches. I opened my mouth to let out a roar, but all I heard was the scream of a scared teenage girl. Why wasn’t I changing? I felt sleepy and sluggish, like I’d been drugged. My body wouldn’t cooperate with me. All I could do was kick out wildly with my legs and fists. One of my feet connected with a wet snout, and the dog whimpered and backed away, lowering its head so I could see the ugly scar that snaked across the top of its skull, the skin around it balding and pale.

  But the others seemed even more determi
ned to tear me apart. The more I kicked, the more they grabbed at my arms, pulling at me with their glistening teeth, biting down on my thigh, ripping through the fabric . . .

  “NO!” I screamed, my throat on fire.

  “Shani?” I heard my father’s voice call from his bedroom, and a few seconds later a light clicked on in the hall. As if responding to a whistle only they could hear, the dogs broke off their attack and scrambled for the door.

  “Dad,” I croaked, struggling to sit up. I touched my arms and legs, wondering if the dogs had broken through the skin. Was I bleeding? I hugged myself, trying to get a grip on reality.

  Dad appeared in the doorway. He flicked on the light. “What’s going on here?” he said.

  I looked up, reaching out for him. But then I noticed that he wasn’t looking at me. I turned around to follow his gaze. There, sitting on the overstuffed chair at the edge of the rug, in blue silk pajamas, was Kiah. Where had she come from? Our eyes connected for a long moment, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Other than the three of us, the room was empty, and the front door was firmly locked. Nothing was out of place—not even Kiah’s hair.

  “That’s what I want to know,” Kiah said, standing up and edging around the area rug, giving me a wide berth, as if I were the dangerous animal. She turned to my father. “I was sound asleep when I heard Shani get out of bed. She was mumbling something about dogs and wasn’t making much sense, so I followed her. She must have been sleepwalking.”

  “Sleepwalking!” I exclaimed. Was she joking? I was all set to call her a liar, but then—was she lying, or had I really been asleep? I felt so groggy, like my head was full of cotton. Maybe she was telling the truth.

  “I tried to wake her up,” Kiah went on, “but whenever I went near her, she screamed. So I just sat here and watched over her to make sure she didn’t throw herself out a window or anything. She thrashed around a lot and yelled, and that’s when you came in.”