Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating(44)

It’s just then that the automated Luas announcement clicks on, and it’s as if it breaks our trance. Our strange moment when we were almost … something. And I’m not sure what that something was.

“Milltown,” says the electronic voice. “Báile an Mhuilinn.”

“Shit. That’s us.” I jump out of my seat, and I’m halfway out the door when I notice that Hani isn’t following behind. “Hani?”

She doesn’t get up. Doesn’t even meet my eyes. “I’m just going to go to the next stop and get my bus.”

“Oh … okay.” There’s so much more I want to say, but there’s a beep, indicating the doors are about to close, and I step outside. It’s only as the Luas starts up once more and begins moving that I catch Hani’s eyes through the window.

I have no idea what she’s thinking.





chapter twenty-five


hani


WHEN I STEP OUTSIDE THE LUAS FIVE MINUTES LATER, it’s raining. And not the usual Irish drizzle that barely gets your hair wet—it’s a downpour.

I guess that’s what I get for skipping out on my promise to walk Ishu home. That’s the thought swimming around in my head as I leg it all the way to the bus stop. Not that it makes any kind of a difference because a) the other thoughts, the ones I’m not doing such a great job of suppressing, are still trying to push their way to the surface, and b) it’s raining so hard that just taking the few minutes to run gets me absolutely soaked.

What is it about Ishu that being with her always leads to me getting drenched?

I shake my head, slip onto the bus and settle down in my seat. When I glance at my phone, I find three missed calls from Ishu. And six messages in my group chat with Dee and Aisling. I slide my finger over both the notifications so that they disappear. I turn on Spotify, hit shuffle, and turn the music up the loudest it will go.

I drown out the world—and, most importantly, my thoughts—and just stare out the window, focusing on the rain against the glass, the hazy cars passing, and the music.




Aisling: actually had a lot of fun tonight

Dee: Ishita is really different from how she usually is in school!

Aisling: she’s kind of fun?

Dee: right??

Aisling: maybe we can do something together tomorrow??

Dee: yeah I’d be up for that

Aisling: movie at mine??

Dee: Maira????

Aisling: hellooooo?

I wake up to all of these messages in my inbox and heave a sigh. The last thing I want to do is spend the day watching a movie with Dee, Aisling, and Ishu. I’m pretty sure Ishu doesn’t want to do that either. So I send them back a quick reply:

Hey, sorry … was asleep. No can do on the movie today, sorry. Maybe next weekend?

There’s another message from Ishu. All it says is, are we good? and I’m not sure how to respond to that. Because I don’t know if we are good, but I don’t want her to know that. So I just send a thumbs up emoji and hope she leaves me alone.

What I want to do more than anything is talk to someone about what happened yesterday, because I still can’t wrap my head around it.

The way Ishu was looking at me … the question she asked …

I lie back in bed and stare up at the beige ceiling, wishing that feelings and relationships made any kind of sense. But of course they don’t. That would be too easy.

Under normal circumstances, this is the kind of thing that Amma would be able to help me with. She always gives the best advice about everything. It’s like she’s already experienced everything I’ve experienced, so I can avoid making the exact same mistakes as her with her stellar advice. But I’m pretty sure Amma has never fake dated a girl and then discovered that actually, she might be developing real feelings for her. And—because the whole thing is a big fat lie—I can’t tell Amma about it anyway. She’ll tell me to come clean to everyone about everything. We can’t do that. Not now that my friends actually like Ishu, and might be getting on board with who I am. And Ishu is on track to become Head Girl.

Still, there’s comfort in just knowing that Amma is there if I need her. Yes, she’ll make me come clean, but she’ll probably at least let me cry on her shoulder first.

So, after grabbing breakfast, I peek into Amma’s room. She’s at her desk, typing away on her laptop.

“Amma? You busy?”

She looks up and flashes me a smile. “Not really. What’s up? Did you eat breakfast?”

“Yeah, I just ate,” I say. “Where’s Abba?”

“He has some meetings today,” she says. “Won’t be home all day.”

“He’s been really busy lately, huh?”

She just shrugs, like she’s used to it. Ever since he started running in the county council elections, it’s been pretty difficult to get ahold of him. The only time I see him is when I’m helping him out with something, because he’s always in different meetings. Even when he is home, he’s hard to talk to because he’s answering emails or on the phone. I don’t know how Amma deals with it, when it even annoys me sometimes.

“Do you want to watch a movie together today?” I ask. “You can pick the movie … I won’t even complain if it’s a Bollywood one.”