A Very Large Expanse of Sea(24)

“So who’s the different guy?” Navid asked. “Does he have a name?”

I opened my eyes. Stared at him. “No.”

Navid’s mouth dropped open. He was half smiling, half surprised. “Wow,” he said. “Wow. You must really like him.”

“I don’t like him,” I snapped. “I just don’t want you bothering him.”

“Why would we bother him?” My brother was still smiling.

“Can we just get started on practice? Please?”

“Not until you tell me his name.”

I sighed. I knew my evasiveness would only make the situation worse, so I gave in. “His name is Ocean.”

Navid frowned. “What the hell kind of a name is Ocean?”

“You know, people wonder the same thing about you.”

“Whatever,” he said. “My name is awesome.”

“Anyway,” I said, “Ocean is my lab partner in another class. He just felt bad that Mr. Jordan was being a jerk.”

My brother still seemed skeptical, but he didn’t push it. I could feel him begin to pull away, to lose interest in the conversation, and it made me suddenly anxious. There was something I still wanted to say. Something that had been bothering me all day. I’d been deliberating for hours whether or not to ask the question—even how to ask the question—and, finally, I just gave in and made a mess of it.

“Hey, Navid?” I said quietly.

He’d just turned to grab something out of his bag, and he looked back at me. “Yeah?”

“Do you—” I hesitated. Reconsidered.

“Do I what?”

I took a deep breath. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

Navid’s reaction to my question was so absurd I almost don’t even know how to describe it. He looked somehow shocked and confused and hysterical all at the same time. Eventually, he laughed. Hard. It sounded strange.

I was mortified.

“Oh my God, never mind,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry I even asked. That was so stupid.”

I was halfway across the room when Navid jogged—slowly, dragging his sneakers—after me, and said, “Wait, wait, I’m sorry—”

“Forget it,” I said angrily. I was blushing past my hairline. I was now standing way too close to Bijan, Carlos, and Jacobi, and I did not want them to hear this conversation. I tried desperately to convey this with my eyes, but Navid seemed incapable of picking up my signals. “I don’t want to talk about this, okay? Forget I said anything.”

“Hey, listen,” Navid said, “I was just surprised. I wasn’t expecting you to say something like that.”

“Say something like what?” This, from Bijan.

I wanted to die.

“Nothing,” I said to Bijan. I glared at Navid. “Nothing, okay?”

Navid looked over at the guys and sighed. “Shirin wants to know if I think she’s pretty. But, listen,” he said, looking at me again, “I don’t think I should be answering that question. That feels like a really weird question for a sister to ask her brother, you know? Maybe you should be asking these guys,” he said, nodding at the rest of the group.

“Oh my God,” I said, half whispering the words. I really thought I might murder my brother. I wanted to close my hands around his throat. “What is wrong with you?” I shouted.

And then—

“I think you’re pretty,” Carlos said. He was retying his shoelaces. He’d said the statement like he was talking about the weather.

I looked at him. I felt slightly stunned.

“I mean, I think you’re scary as hell,” he said, and shrugged. “But, yeah. I mean, yeah. Very cute.”

“You think I’m scary?” I said, and frowned.

Carlos nodded. He wouldn’t even look at me.

“Do you think I’m scary?” I said to Bijan.

“Oh,” he said, and raised his eyebrows. “Definitely.”

I actually took a step back, I was so surprised. “Are you serious? Do you all feel this way?”

And they all nodded. Even Navid.

“I think you’re beautiful, though,” Bijan said. “If that helps.”

My mouth fell open. “Why do you all think I’m so scary?”

They collectively shrugged.

“People think you’re mean,” Navid finally said to me.

“People are assholes,” I snapped.

“See?” Navid pointed at me. “This is the thing you do.”

“What thing?” I said, frustrated again. “People are flaming pieces of shit to me, like, all day long, and I’m not supposed to be mad about it?”

“You can be mad about it,” Jacobi said, and the sound of his voice startled me. He seemed, suddenly, very serious. “But, like, you seem to think everyone is horrible.”

“That’s because everyone is horrible.”

Jacobi shook his head. “Listen,” he said, “I know what it’s like to be angry all the time, okay? I do. Your shit—the shit you have to deal with—it’s hard, yeah. But you just—you can’t do this. You can’t be angry all the time. Trust me,” he said. “I’ve tried that. It’ll kill you.”