Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating(52)



“You don’t know Nik,” Ishu says. “And … you don’t know what our relationship is like.”

“Maybe we can talk to her and … explain the situation …”

Ishu is smiling now, as if I’ve said something really funny.

“What?”

“It’s just … nice that you think Nik will listen to reason,” she says. “And … I guess it’s nice that I’m not dealing with this on my own.”

“We can figure out a solution together,” I say, trying to ignore the fact that Ishu’s words are making me warm all over again. And that I’m distinctly aware of the fact that we’ve gone from sitting at opposite ends of the bed to being dangerously close to each other. But I don’t know how to put space between us again without going back to our awkwardness from before. Without making Ishu aware of how being close to her makes me feel things that I definitely do not want—or need—to be feeling.

“Maybe,” Ishu surprises me by saying. It seems she surprises herself, because she blinks slowly like she’s not sure she’s said those words herself. “I mean, since it’s not just going to be me dealing with it … maybe together we can find a solution.”

Ishu’s eyes are peering into mine, and somehow I’ve never noticed just how warm they are. The light of the sun pouring in through her window illuminates a hint of golden brown in them. Suddenly, all I can think of is the lack of space between us. The fact that if I inched my hands forward, I would reach her fingers. If I leaned my face forward, I would find hers. I guess Ishu must have been thinking the exact same thing, because she does inch her hand forward. Instead of my fingers, she finds a strand of hair and curls it around her fingers. Her touch sends a shiver down my spine. Before I know it, my body is leaning forward of its own accord. The bed creaks beneath me. I close my eyes, and—

“Ishu!” Aparna Aunty’s voice screeches from downstairs. Ishu bounces back from me. I nearly fall off the bed in my rush to get away from her, even though the bedroom door is locked and Aunty’s voice is ridiculously far away: “Niche eshe mishti khao.”

Ishu rolls her eyes at me. “Okay, Ammu. We’re coming.”

Whatever was happening between us, whatever emboldened us to make something happen between us, is broken by Aparna Aunty’s intrusion. I still can’t get my heart back to a regular pace. And I can’t look Ishu in the eye.

She shoots me a smile before getting off the bed. I don’t know what it means. “We should go downstairs. You like mishti, right?” She swings the door open and looks back at me.

“I only like some mishti.” I get up and follow her down the stairs. I’m not sure if we’ve made things between us better or infinitely worse.





chapter thirty


ishu


AFTER THE DAWAT IS FINISHED, AND EVERYONE HAS gone home, our house suddenly feels too empty. After being filled with Bengali chatter for the whole day, the silence seems to press into us.

I change out of my salwar kameez and strip my face of makeup. All the while, I can’t stop thinking about Hani. And I can’t stop thinking about Nik. Two people I definitely don’t want to be thinking about.

I crawl into bed and pull out my phone, scrolling to my text thread with Nik. The last messages we sent each other were that day she came home to surprise us. It feels like an eternity ago, though it’s only been a few weeks.

Hey Nik …

That’s all I type out before pausing. Because how do I ask my sister if she accidentally discovered the truth about my fake relationship? And how do I ask her what exactly she’s planning to do with that truth? Thinking about all of the possibilities, all of the ways that Nik can use this to get back into Abbu and Ammu’s good graces, makes me feel queasy.

Erasing my message, I click into my Instagram DM thread with Hani instead. I’m still trying wrap my mind around exactly what had happened in my bedroom earlier today. There was one inexplicable moment where I was sure that Hani and I were on the exact same page. That we wanted the same thing. But the moment was fleeting—it passed as quickly as it came. Maybe it was just a moment of weakness, spurred by the fact that someone knows our secret. That all of our plans might come undone if Nik decides to do something about our guide.

Should we talk about what happened today?

The unsent message glares up at me, and I erase it almost immediately. If Hani got a message like this, she would probably run for the hills. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about her, it’s that Hani’s not the kind of person who confronts things head on. Even coming to me about Nik seemed like it was killing her.

I click away from my message thread and end up on my Instagram timeline instead. The first photo that pops up is from the dawat today. It’s Hani’s, and it’s of the two of us sitting side by side. There are plastic white bowls of mishti balanced in our hands. We’re both half-smiling, Hani’s looking down and I’m staring straight into the camera. The awkwardness between us is almost palpable—just from looking at that picture.

I lie back in bed, and close my eyes. Maybe Hani uploading the picture is her roundabout way of saying something. Or maybe it isn’t—but it makes me happy all the same.




I had hoped that sleep would give me some clarity about both the Nik and Hani situations, but my thoughts are still a jumble when I wake up on Sunday morning. I spend the day helping Ammu clean the house up, my thoughts whirring around my head all the while.

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