Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating(45)

Amma studies me for a moment. “Everything okay? How was your date last night?”

“It was fine. It was … nice,” I say. “It started raining at the end of the night and I got soaked and now I feel a little sickly, so … I just want to watch a movie with my Amma now.”

She doesn’t look convinced. Still, she nods. “Okay … but it will definitely be a Bollywood movie. What’s new on Netflix?”

“I can check!” I’m already pulling out my phone.

“I can make lunch … your favorite: akhni.” She closes her laptop and stands up, ready to go to the kitchen.

“Amma, if you start making akhni, how will we watch the movie?”

“After the akhni,” she says, like it’s obvious. “It won’t take a long time.”

“Akhni takes a long time,” I insist. “How about we just order biryani from Suraj Uncle’s restaurant?”

“It’s not the same as akhni,” Amma says. Akhni is Sylheti biryani, which is why everyone in my family thinks it’s the superior form of biryani.

“I know, but it’s biryani, and you won’t have to spend the day in the kitchen,” I say. “We can have akhni another time. For my birthday, or something.”

Amma hates getting takeout when she can cook a better meal for cheaper at home, but she concedes.

An hour later, it’s just Amma and me, our plates full of really good biryani—which is not as great as akhni—and Sonam Kapoor and Fawad Khan in Khoobsurat. For a little while, at least, I manage to pretend that my problems don’t exist.





chapter twenty-six


ishu


HANI DOESN’T ANSWER MY PHONE CALLS OR REPLY TO any of my messages Saturday night and just sends me a thumbs up emoji on Sunday morning. I’m pretty sure I’ve royally screwed everything up with my ridiculous feelings. Now Hani doesn’t even want to talk to me. This was one of the things I predicted would happen if I confessed any of my feelings, except it’s worse because I haven’t even confessed anything—not really. I’ve just scared her off.

I try to ignore the gnawing feeling of hurt and betrayal in my stomach, but I barely get any sleep on Saturday night. Hani didn’t even message to let me know that she got home okay. I keep opening our guide, because it feels like a history of us. Hani always updates it with all of the pictures she takes, and until yesterday she was filling up the latest pages with information I should know about Aisling and Deirdre. But since our triple date Hani hasn’t added anything. That makes me feel even worse.

I throw myself into my studies on Sunday since I spent Saturday dawdling around, doing basically nothing productive. Because I’m sure that Aisling and Deirdre will not be my friends if Hani isn’t even talking to me.

I have to keep control of what I can control: my results and my future. Whether that contains becoming Head Girl or not. We have another biology test on Monday and I’m determined to get as close to a perfect result as I can get.




“Hey.” Aisling slides right next to me in biology class. “Did you have a good weekend?” She smiles at me like we’re friends, which obviously means that Hani hasn’t told her friends about whatever is going with her and me. There are a few people who glance over their shoulders at the two of us—trying to be discreet but failing horribly at it.

“Yeah, it was good. Quiet Sunday.” I shrug.

Hani strolls in and gives us both a wave before taking her place in the seat in front of us. At least she’s not straight out ignoring me, I guess.

“Did you study for the test?” Aisling asks, taking her biology book and copies out of her backpack.

“I did, yeah,” I say.

“I bet you’re going to get another A.” She grins.

I shrug. “Here’s hoping.”

Ms. Taylor interrupts our conversation just then by entering the classroom. A quick hush falls over everyone as she click-clacks her way to the front of the room.

“Okay, today’s the big test. Your summer exams are coming up so this is good practice,” she says. As if she doesn’t give us a test every week. “I hope everyone studied.” She barely gives people time to register her words before passing the tests back row by row.

Hani whispers a “good luck” to both of us as she passes the bundle of tests down.

I write my name at the top of the test paper and open it up. It’s a long test—it’s supposed to last for the entire class. It has most of the things that we’ve studied this whole year. Still, it’s not difficult. The last thing I studied yesterday—ecology—is the first thing on the exam. And it’s just definitions, which is easy. It’s just having to memorize a bunch of stuff.

I’m scribbling down what a biosphere is when I feel a slight nudge on my ribs. I look up, but everybody’s head is bent down over their own test. Even Aisling—who is the only person who could have nudged me—is staring down at her test with furrowed eyebrows. Maybe it was a mistake?

I’m about to go back to my test when Aisling slides a note across the narrow space between us.

Let me take a peek?

I can only stare at the words for a moment. I should have known this was why Aisling decided to sit right next to me in class today. Why she has been so friendly. Maybe why she agreed to hang out with me on Saturday, and probably why she invited me to sit with them at lunch.