Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating(36)

Hani catches my eye and shrugs. “Guess I came alive to the world? I should go … do you know if there’s a bus that goes from yours to mine?”

“My parents can drop you off. You should stay for breakfast, at least,” I say. If Hani leaves without eating something, that’ll be a huge offense. Hani should know that.

“I should really go.” She insists, not looking me in the eye. “I mean, I wasn’t home last night and I don’t want to go home super late this morning, you know.”

“It’s literally six thirty in the morning?”

Hani heaves a sigh. “Yeah, but …” She shrugs, like it is what it is.

“You know most buses haven’t even started running yet. It’s Sunday … what’s up with you?” There’s a weird restlessness to Hani this morning that I don’t think I’ve ever noticed with her before.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and finally meets my gaze.

“It’s just … I missed the night prayer yesterday. And if I go home now, I can pray the dawn prayer before time’s up.”

“Oh.” I have never heard Hani talk about prayer or praying before—not that I’m friends with her or anything. Still, I didn’t even know she was someone who prayed consistently. I doubt she shares that with her friends, considering her hesitancy in telling even me. “You can’t pray here? I mean, we don’t have a prayer rug, but …”

“Yeah, I could.” Hani nods. Abloom of pink tints her cheek like she’s embarrassed at having to ask. At having to occupy space to do this thing that makes her different from me.

“Well … you know what?” I ask, slowly edging away toward my bedroom door. “I’m going to go downstairs and make us breakfast and … you come down whenever you’re ready. You can take anything from my wardrobe and use the bathroom. Or you can … not do any of those things. Your choice.” I shrug. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” I don’t wait for her to speak before shutting the door behind me.




Hani comes downstairs fifteen minutes later, with embarrassment still written all over her face. I just shoot her a smile and ask her to take a seat.

“Your parents are still away?” she asks, looking around like Ammu and Abbu are just going to pop out from under the dinner table.

“No … they’re probably still asleep.” I shrug. “I usually wake up early on the weekends to … study.”

“Oh.” Hani regards me with some interest, before digging into her breakfast of porota and omelette. It’s the most I could do in just a few minutes.

“You know you could have just fed me cereal,” Hani comments, happily eating away. “I wouldn’t have minded. You didn’t have to go to all the trouble of making this.”

I shrug. “No big deal. Ammu and Abbu would have been annoyed if I just gave you cereal. You’re a guest.”

“Right.” She nods. There’s a minute of near silence, where it’s just the sound of the two of us chewing. Then, Hani pauses and looks me in the eye.

“You know, this is strange.”

“… Sorry? I’m not a great cook.”

“No.” She chuckles. “Being in your house and eating … porota and … praying in your bedroom. It’s strange. It’s … nice.”

So, she did end up praying in my room. That makes me feel warm for some reason, but I try to ignore it.

“Yeah, I guess,” I say. I’m not sure if I would call it nice, but it definitely is strange. If only because I would have never imagined this in a million years.

“Thank you.” She stares down at her plate. “I can’t really be like this with my friends.”

I want to ask her again, why. Why is she friends with people who don’t let her be who she is? Who make her feel uncomfortable and embarrassed of who she is? But I figure we’ve shared enough for the time being. Multiple deep conversations. A bed. Breakfast. That’s more than enough for an entire lifetime.

“Don’t mention it.” I shrug, getting back to my breakfast.

Ammu and Abbu still aren’t awake by the time we’re finished eating, but Hani pulls up the bus timetable on her phone.

“If you wait for a little while, they can give you a lift,” I say.

Hani shakes her head. “I don’t want to bother them; it’s the weekend.”

I see Hani to the door, and she hovers there for a moment. It’s like neither of us really knows how to say goodbye.

“Well … thanks,” Hani mumbles finally, not quite meeting my gaze. “I’ll see you at school on Monday, I guess.”

After Hani leaves, I come upstairs to find my room exactly how I like it. The pajamas I lent her have been put away, and the bed is perfectly made. The thing is, even though everything is exactly how it normally is, something feels distinctly different about my bedroom. Like something of Hani is lingering here that I can’t get out of my mind. I can almost smell her shampoo and her perfume. I don’t know if it’s because she’s been in my room or because she’s on my mind.

I shake my head and take out my school books.

Time to get back to normal.





chapter twenty-one