The Henna Wars(34)

Flávia: I thought you were the kind of person who would play fair but I guess I misjudged you.

Flávia: Game on

It feels like someone has lodged a rock in my throat. She misjudged me? How can you misjudge someone who you barely know?

My fingers type out a reply almost of their own accord. My words are more confident than I’m feeling.

May the best woman win.





14

ON MONDAY MORNING I HAVE A RENEWED PURPOSE. IF Ammu and Abbu aren’t going to accept me, that’s fine. If the girl I have a crush on is going to compete against me using my own culture, that’s fine too. But I’m tired of being ashamed. My choice is clearly laid out in front of me. I’m going to choose me. And I’m going to beat Flávia.

I walk from the bus stop to the school with a renewed fervor. If Priti notices it, she doesn’t say anything, but she does look at me skeptically before waving goodbye and heading off toward her locker.

“I have a plan for how to beat Flávia and Chyna.” It’s the first thing I say to Jess and Chaewon, who are huddled together by our lockers, speaking in hushed whispers.

“Well, good morning to you too.” Jess turns to me with a smile.

“And what are you talking about?” Chaewon adds.

“You didn’t see?” I’m already slipping my phone out of my bag and flicking to Flávia’s Instagram page. I thrust it in front of their faces. The page is filled with pictures of henna. Different designs, different people. How does she already know so many people at this school?

“Oh.” Jess peers closer at the photos, like she’s trying to take in all of the intricacies of the henna designs, every pixel of the pictures. “Did you know?”

“Of course I didn’t know. If I had known, I would have said something.”

“Well, I thought she was your friend?” Chaewon says, unhelpfully.

“I knew her in primary school, but barely. I don’t know her.”

“Well …”

Jess and Chaewon share a look that is full of … something. Some meaning or some history. The kind of look Priti and I share sometimes. Or Ammu and Abbu share all the time.

“We’ve been talking this weekend, you know? About the business project,” Jess says.

“Competition.” I correct her.

“The business competition, right. And we were thinking … maybe the henna thing isn’t the best way to go. And with this, Flávia or whatever, doing the same thing, I think it means we should try something else.”

I take a step back and study them. Chaewon is fidgeting with the collar of her shirt and Jess is looking everywhere but in my eyes. They must have been discussing this for some time. They just decided not to clue me in.

“What’s wrong with the henna business?”

“It’s just …” Jess looks to Chaewon as if asking for help. “We don’t really feel involved. Your sister set up the Instagram page over the weekend when we weren’t there to help. And you even named the business after yourself. This feels like your thing, not ours.”

“It can be all of our thing,” I insist.

“But it isn’t, is it?”

“And we don’t want to do the same thing as someone else,” Chaewon chimes in with a smile. Classic Chaewon, but for once her sweetness rubs me the wrong way. Like she’s being fake and charming to get her way, not just because of who she is. “We should try and work together to find something we’re all interested in. That nobody else has done. Jess and I have a few ideas.”

I laugh. I can’t help it, it just bursts out of me. But it’s not humorous or light-hearted. It’s harsh and not like a laugh at all.

“Of course you’ve already talked about it. I’m sure you already know exactly what business idea you want for the competition, and no matter what I say or think, the two of you will get your way anyway.”

Jess frowns. “That’s not fair. We’re a democracy.”

“Except, you two are basically the same person.” I wave my hands over them as if there could be any mistake who exactly I’m talking about.

“We’re not—” Chaewon starts, but she’s cut off by the loud sound of the bell going off. It’s the warning bell, which indicates that we still have a few minutes to make our way to class.

“We can talk about this later,” Jess says. Before I have a chance to respond, she grabs hold of Chaewon’s hand and drags her away. They steal one last glance at me, like I’m someone they’ve never seen before.

I spend the whole day trying to decide what I want to tell Chaewon and Jess. Or rather, how I can convince them that we need to beat Flávia. That we need to run a henna business. That I need this.

But how can I do all of that without telling them why? How can I convince them that right now, the business competition, the henna, the urge to win, is the only thing keeping me going? That it’s the only solid thing in my life right now? When everything else feels up in the air, out of control?

I can’t say any of those things. So at lunch I settle for approaching them with my brightest (fakest) smile and two of the finest chocolate bars you can purchase at the school’s tuck shop.

“Hey.” I sit down, offering them the bars. They accept, sharing a bewildered look but peeling the wrappers off and beginning to nibble at the ends anyway.