Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating(83)

“We should try crocheting!” Hani exclaims, like she’s figured out the solution to world peace. “Amma does it, and she says she finds it so calming. Plus, she always crochets me the best things.”

“I don’t think crocheting sounds … like me,” I say. For the past few weeks, Hani has been trying to cajole me into picking up a hobby. I agreed, mostly because Hani says whatever I agree to do, she’ll do with me too. But it’s definitely not going to be crocheting.

Hani lets out a gasp, like she’s suddenly gotten the best news of her life. She points toward the entrance of the park, where a group of musicians are setting up. “I wonder what they’ll play,” Hani whispers. There’s wonder in her eyes—as if there aren’t a bajillion buskers in Dublin at any given time, playing all kinds of music.

They set an empty guitar case in front and begin playing an upbeat, folksy tune. Hani bobs her head side-to-side, as if this is the best music she’s heard in her entire life.

I stifle a groan, and a roll of my eyes. I mean, the music isn’t terrible, I guess.

“What if we started our own band?” Hani asks.

“Can you play an instrument?” I ask.

Hani glances at me with a little frown. “No …”

“It’s kind of important to have musical talent to start a band.” I point out. “I mean … I can play the guitar, but—”

“Shut up!” Hani turns to me now, and her jaw is practically on the floor.

“I can play the guitar … badly,” I finish. “I learned a long time ago, when I was a kid. My sister and I wanted to start our own band. I don’t even know if I can play anymore. Plus … Nik was obviously a million times better than me.”

“So, you’ll start a band with your sister but not me?” Hani sounds mortally offended at the idea.

“Yeah, when I was a kid, Hani.” I sigh, leaning back to watch the band change into a new song. A woman with a mass of curls tosses them a coin as she passes by.

“Did you like it?” Hani asks.

“I guess …” I trail off, trying to remember what it felt like. It has been years and years. In that time, I’ve moved on from any fascination I had with the guitar, or music in general.

My phone buzzes with a text in my pocket. I slip it out and read Nik’s text, an automatic groan escaping my lips. “I have to tell her,” I tell Hani.

A smile flickers on Hani’s lips. “Well, you’ve been putting it off for a long time. It’s not going to get any easier—maybe harder, actually.”

I lie back on the grass, feeling the heat of the sun on my skin. Hani shifts beside me until she’s lying on the grass too. Even without turning sideways, I can see the way her long, black hair spreads out all around her.

“Imagine you tell Nik that you’ve picked up the guitar again …” Hani says after a long pause. “You’ll be better than her.”

I grin. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Hani threads our fingers together until I can feel the warmth of her skin against mine. “At least not until I figure out exactly how terrible you are.”




Ammu is in the kitchen preparing dinner when I get home. The aroma of what she’s cooking—chicken curry and rice—fills the entire house.

“Ammu …”

She glances up with a raised eyebrow. “You’re home. Out with Hani again?” She doesn’t sound angry exactly, but there’s an edge to her voice. I guess she doesn’t like me spending so much time with my “friend” when I could be studying. But I don’t let the edge in her voice bother me.

I take a deep breath, and dive right in. “Ammu, you know Nik is getting married in two weeks, right?”

Her eyebrows furrow together at the mention of Nik’s name. I don’t think they’ve spoken in months now. “Yes,” she says with a tone of finality in her voice. She goes back to her cooking.

“You’re really not going to go to her wedding?” I ask. “She’s your daughter … you’re going to regret it.”

She keeps stirring the chicken curry, though I’m not sure it even needs to be stirred. I chew on my lip, trying to figure out how to say the next thing, when Ammu stops and turns back to me.

“If I could go, I would,” she says slowly. “I can’t always do the things I want to. Your Abbu …” She shakes her head. “And anyway, he’s right. If we go now, if we support her in these ridiculous decisions, she’s going to think it’s all right. She’ll never go back to university to finish her degree.”

“She’s not going to go back because you decide to punish her for following her own path,” I say. “She’s just … doing what makes her happy.”

Ammu shakes her head. “We can’t always do what makes us happy. If we did, the world would not function. Do you think we came to this country because it made us happy?”

I sigh. “It’s different, Ammu … you know it’s different … and I’m going.”

Ammu turns to me with a glare. “No, you’re not.”

“Nik already bought me a ticket … and Hani. We’re going together,” I say. “You don’t want to go … okay. But I’m not going to miss my only sister’s wedding, Ammu. You shouldn’t ask me to.”