Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating(30)

“Well … just brushing it and putting oil in it and special shampoos and conditioners … and sometimes I put mehndi in it … but … I think everybody does that?”

This time, I have to spin around in my chair to see if she really is that naive.

“Hani, you know Aisling and Deirdre are not doing that to their hair.” Aisling used to have chestnut brown hair once upon a time, and even then it was wispy. Now, she has bleached it a peroxide-blonde that makes her look even more obnoxious than before. It was never as thick as Hani’s—not even close. Deirdre’s hair, though untouched by bleach or dye, is shoulder length and fine. Irish hair just isn’t the same as Bengali hair.

“Maybe there are some differences,” Hani says, like she’s really not willing to concede defeat here. She spins me back and begins to tug at my hair once more with her brush. “But trust me, their hair comes with a lot of work as well. We’re not the only ones having to go through hair care.”

“I just hate all of it,” I mumble. “Having to spend so much time brushing it every morning, after school, before bed. Tying it up, different hairstyles. Putting oil in it and all of that shampoo and conditioner.”

“Well …” Hani says. “Short hair suits you.”

“You can hardly say short hair makes me look ugly,” I point out. She smiles and grabs a few clips from her desk. She begins to slide them into my hair so that it’s a little less messy than usual. It actually looks kind of sophisticated by the time she’s done.

“If your hair made you look ugly, I would say it,” Hani says once she’s finished. “I don’t really have anything to lose by telling you things as they are. So … you should believe me when I say you look very pretty with short hair.”

I can’t help that my cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment. I can’t remember the last time someone called me pretty. Maybe no one ever has; maybe this is the first time someone has ever called me pretty.

All I can manage to do is avoid Hani’s eyes and stutter out a thank you.





chapter seventeen


hani


ISHU’S LEGS GO UP AND DOWN AND UP AND DOWN FOR the entire car journey to Dee’s house. Dee only lives twenty-five minutes away, so it’s not exactly unbearable. Actually, it’s still kind of sweet to see Ishu nervous about something. With her hair and makeup done, and her black dress on, Ishu could almost pass for any cute girl nervous about her first party.

“Call me when the party is over?” Amma asks. “Unless you’re planning to sleep over?”

“We’re not planning to sleep over, Aunty,” Ishu says before I can even open my mouth. “We’ll call you. Thank you for the lift.”

“Have fun—tell Deirdre happy birthday from me!” With that, Amma backs out of the driveway. We watch her car disappear down the road, before turning toward the house. Ishu looks a little green, like she might just throw up into the bushes.

“Just stick with me, yeah?” I give her fingers a little squeeze before knocking on the door.

It only takes a minute for Dee to swing the door open. She throws herself at me as soon as she does, squealing, “Hey, you’re here!”

“Happy birthday!” I mumble, while trying spit out tufts of her auburn hair. When she pulls away, she fixes me with a bright smile before turning to Ishu with a tighter one. She invited Ishu. I remember it clear as day. I didn’t even ask her to.

“Hey, Ishita,” she says flatly.

“Hey, happy birthday.” Ishu tries a smile of her own, but it’s too much teeth and not enough eyes.

“Is everyone already here?” I change the subject, slipping inside and waving Ishu in behind me. “I don’t hear a lot of noise.”

“Most of us, yeah,” Dee says. “It’s actually a little more low-key than originally planned.”

“And Aisling was okay with that?” Aisling has never been low-key about anything in her life. She tried to hire a limo for her last birthday party and only decided not to because another girl in our class did it first and Aisling didn’t want to be a follower.

“It is my birthday.” Dee smiles.

“You look really nice,” I say. She does. She has her hair all done up, and her dress is sparkling and pink like a princess’s. That’s kind of Dee’s brand though. With her round face and sparkling eyes, she could pass for any Disney princess—especially Ariel with her auburn hair.

“Thank you!” Dee’s grin widens. “You look nice too. And you as well, Ishita.”

Ishu actually smiles for real this time. “Thanks … Hani helped me get ready.”

“Hani?”

“Oh, that’s just my nickname,” I say.

“Oh, like a pet name?” Dee asks.

“Not exactly …” I trail off. I’m not sure how to explain the concept of Bengali dak nams and bhalo nams to people. “It’s just a nickname Bengali people have for me.”

“But your nickname is Maira.” Dee frowns, like the concept of two nicknames is a bit difficult for her to grasp.

“We should go in,” I say to change the topic. Thankfully, Dee’s face brightens at that.

“Yes, into the sitting room, come on!” Even from the hall, we can hear the sound of rumblings coming from the sitting room.