The Henna Wars(37)

“You do know there is another group with a similar idea to yours?” She asks when she’s finally finished reading.

“I do.”

“And they’re a larger group, so it might be more difficult for you to compete against them.”

“I know.”

“But you still want to stick with this? Alone?” She doesn’t say it like she disapproves, or thinks that I should change my mind, but like she just wants to confirm that this is really what I want. That I won’t have regrets later.

“I do.” I give her the most confident smile that I can muster.

“Well, I’m excited to see what you can do.” She doesn’t say it with any malice, or hope. More like she is excited to see what I can achieve on my own with this idea.

She slips off to the next table. I let out a breath, running my fingers through my notes and sketches.

Monday.

One week. Barely.

I can do it. Especially now that I’ve successfully lost all of my friends.





15

“WHY DO YOU LOOK SO GRUMPY?” PRITI ASKS ME WHEN we’re on the bus on the way home.

“I’m not grumpy,” I contest, even though I don’t think I can pull my lips into a smile even if I try my hardest. “I just have a lot to do this week.”

“That’s not your stressed face, it’s your grumpy face.”

I cross my arms over my chest. Priti and I don’t keep secrets from each other. Ever since we were kids, we’ve stuck together and spilled our hearts to each other like nobody else mattered. Like there was nobody else to spill our hearts to.

The only secret I kept from her was my sexuality, and that only for a short time while anxiety gnawed away at me. I remember spending several nights restlessly tossing and turning because I was afraid of losing my sister. But like always, Priti came through for me.

She listened aptly while I mumbled the words about who I was, avoiding looking at her because I was afraid of who would be staring back. Even before I had finished, she was hugging me tight and telling me she loved me.

But the thought of telling Priti what happened with Chaewon and Jess makes me feel a little nauseous. How do I tell Priti that I might have lost my only friends to this competition? A competition that hasn’t even started yet? And what if she doesn’t understand how important it is, either?

So I stare out the window of the bus while Priti casts curious glances at me every once in a while. When my phone pings with a new message, we’re both startled out of our thoughts.

I frown before unlocking my phone. Priti’s already scooting closer, trying—unsubtly—to peer at the screen over my shoulder. I push her back, and shoot her a glare.

“What are you doing?”

“I just wanna see. Include me!”

I hold the phone away from her prying eyes. “Mind your business.”

She huffs but picks up her own phone and begins to scroll through her Instagram feed.

One new text, my phone’s notification center declares.

Flávia: just wanted to let you know your plan didn’t work

I frown before quickly typing back, what plan?

The three dots that indicate she’s typing appear almost instantly. I say to my heart, stop beating so loudly! We don’t like her! But as always, my heart refuses to listen, so I wait for her reply with an increased pulse.

Flávia: contacted the guy at the shop and there’ll be new henna tubes by the end of the week!! Will pick up first thing Monday and be ready for business

“Ugh.”

Priti looks over with a haughty smile that does nothing to make my mood better. “Trouble in paradise?”

“My plan didn’t work. Flávia says Raj Uncle will have the henna tubes in by the end of the week, and we’re supposed to be showcasing our businesses to the school for the first time next Monday.”

“She’s texting you?” Priti doesn’t sound too happy about that. “How does she have your phone number?”

“Chyna, I guess.” I shrug. “Anyway, the point is … I have to think of something else. She’s already got so much interest, and wherever Chyna goes a huge crowd of people follow, so …”

“So you need to find a way to delay the shipment.” Priti taps her chin, thoughtfully.

“I don’t think I have the means to do something that big. You need to think smaller.”

“Apujan.” Priti gasps dramatically. “Who, in the history of the world, has achieved greatness by saying that we need to think smaller?”

“Hopefully me,” I say, as I quickly type out a response to Flávia. There’s no way she’s going to have the last word. And there’s no way I’m going to let her think she’s won. Even if she has. So I write, great, super happy for you :) :) :), hoping that the sarcasm is obvious enough to bother her.

“You could buy out Raj Uncle again?” Priti offers when I look up from my phone.

“I can’t, unless I want to take a major loss.”

“You could steal the henna tubes from her!”

I don’t think Priti’s being serious, because she’s still tapping her chin thoughtfully, but that idea somehow seems totally perfect.

“I could do that,” I say. “I think …”