Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating(41)

“Tomar school kemon cholche?” he asks, as I will Ishu to come downstairs and rescue me from this conversation.

“Pretty good,” I say.

“Exam to er porer bochor taina?” he asks. “Ishu to shara din raat khali pore. Tar iccha shey Cambridge theke graduate korbe. Daktari porbe.”

Ishu never mentioned that particular goal to me, but it sounds like her. The way Ishu studies, her absolute determination to be Head Girl, I guess this is where it’s all leading up to. I don’t know why I feel my stomach clench at the thought. Maybe because I can’t imagine myself going anywhere other than universities in Dublin, like DCU, UCD, or Trinity. And I haven’t even figured out what I want to do.

Ishu and I are just now becoming friends … kind of. The thought of her moving to a whole other country to obsess over her studies is the kind of thing I don’t want to think about. The kind of thing that shouldn’t make me feel like somebody has pulled the rug out from under me. But it does.

I try to shake it off and smile at Uncle. “I’m sure she’ll get in … she’s like the smartest person in our entire school.”

Uncle smiles proudly at that. Thankfully, before he can start interrogating me about where I rank in terms of my results, we hear Ishu’s quick steps on the stairs.

“Okay … pore dekha hobe.” Uncle waves his hand and disappears into the kitchen, just as Ishu appears in my line of sight.

She’s wearing a dress. No leggings. I don’t know if it’s that she’s trying to look more malleable for Aisling and Dee or what. All I know is that she looks amazing. She even has her hair neatly parted to one side and clipped away from her face.

“Hey …” She pulls down at the bottom of her dress—it almost comes up to her knees, but not quite—clearly not feeling particularly comfortable in that getup.

“You look nice.” I offer, even though it’s kind of an understatement. She looks amazing. She also looks not quite like herself. The easy confidence that Ishu normally exudes seems to have disappeared. And I don’t know if it’s because of the dress, the situation, or because of our current relationship … whatever that is.

“This is my sister’s dress,” Ishu explains, taking a seat at the bottom of the stairs and pulling on her shoes: heels that will actually make her slightly taller than me for once. “It’s … itchy.”

I laugh. “Well, it suits you. But … you don’t look comfortable. Maybe you should change into something more … comfortable?”

Ishu raises an eyebrow in my direction. “If there was ever a time to wear something uncomfortable, it’s in this very uncomfortable situation I’m getting myself into.” She pulls the straps of her shoes on, before turning to me with a frown. “You don’t think I look like a clown, do you?”

“What? No!” I don’t even know where she’d get that idea.

“Just … you know how Aisling and Deirdre can be. I don’t want them to … make fun of me for … trying too hard,” she says. “This is a dress from House of Fraser.”

“Wow …”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure my sister got it during sales … she’s very thrifty,” Ishu says. I definitely can’t imagine House of Fraser being a regular shopping spot for them. Not just because it’s a posh shop, but because it doesn’t really seem like their thing anyway. Ishu is so down-to-earth. House of Fraser is not.

“I feel kind of underdressed compared to you, you know.” I comment. I’m wearing a pair of black jeans and a red polka dot blouse. I guess I should have dressed up a bit more, considering this is supposed to be a date.

Ishu looks at me with scrutinizing eyes for a minute. I shift around, balancing my weight on one leg, then the other.

“You always look good,” she says finally. “You don’t have to worry.” I know I shouldn’t take it to mean much, but I still feel heat rise up my cheeks. I want to say that she does too, but I don’t want to piggyback on her compliment.

“Should we get going?” I say instead, reaching out my hand. She takes it, pulling herself up off the last step.

Taking a deep breath, Ishu says, “I guess so.”




Since it’s May, the weather has started looking up. It’s actually warm, and the sun has decided to come out for a few days. We meet Aisling, Dee, Colm, and Barry at St. Stephen’s Green, which is full to bursting with people. People who are lying on their backs and sunbathing, people who have picnics laid down on the grass. And people who have snuck cans into the park and are trying to subtly drink without any gardaí seeing them.

“Took you guys long enough,” Aisling says, as Ishu and I walk up to them. She’s wearing sunglasses and sitting with her legs crossed. Barry has his head on her lap, his eyes closed. Colm and Dee are nowhere to be seen.

“Dee and Colm aren’t even here yet.” I sit down, crossing my legs. Ishu stands for an awkward moment, before slipping down right next to me.

“They are, they’ve just nipped down to the shop,” Aisling says. “We’ve been here for ages and ages. The park’s going to close soon, you know.”

“Well, I thought we were supposed to be going for dinner, not just hanging out in a park.”