The Henna Wars(54)

“I don’t care.” Flávia shrugs her shoulder. “It’s not a big deal, Chyna. We’re not telling Principal Murphy.”

“Flá.” Chyna growls out through gritted teeth.

“Chyna, please.” For a moment, they hold each other’s gaze. I’m sure Chyna will argue. Will refuse to listen to Flávia. Will do something. Chyna always gets her way, after all. But she doesn’t. Instead, she spins around and stomps away wordlessly. She doesn’t even throw me a nasty look, like she usually would.

Flávia stares at her retreating form before turning back to me.

“Nishat—”

“I’m not apologizing.” I zip my bag closed and swing it over my shoulder. And I’m not thanking her, either. Though I don’t say that out loud.

“Okay.” She breathes. “Just … did you really think that would work?”

“Whatever.”

“Really? If I hadn’t stepped in, you would probably be getting suspended right now.” There’s a throb of anger in Flávia’s voice now. Somehow, it’s the exact same pitch as before, but I can feel the anger resonating through it.

“Wow, thank you so much for saving me from getting suspended.”

Flávia shakes her head again. Slower, this time.

“Look, I know you’re angry about what happened, but you’re too caught up in … whatever this is. Victimizing yourself. You don’t even realize what a brat you’re being.”

I almost have to laugh at that. Whatever happened to me, like somebody didn’t make it happen.

“I don’t care Flávia, okay? Report me, don’t report me. Do whatever you want.” With that, I turn around and walk away. My footsteps echo a little too loudly in the empty hallway. My heartbeat is still trying to find its normal pace as I search for Priti.

She’s not where I left her, and not in any of the surrounding hallways either. Finally, I hear the sound of her voice coming from one of the classrooms farther away; it’s choked, like she’s trying to keep in her tears.

“Were you just going to pretend?”

Ali’s voice doesn’t sound much better, but her voice is a mix of anger and sadness. “It was a mistake!”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Priti’s voice comes angrier than I’ve ever heard it before. “I can’t believe you. It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“I came clean to you, isn’t that worth something?”

There’s a cold, hard edge to Priti’s voice as she says, “That’s worth absolutely nothing. You’ve already done the damage. You can’t take that back. Nobody can take that back. You don’t even get what you did, do you?”

“Priti, I—”

But the next moment the door to the classroom is clicking open and Priti comes rushing out, her eyes rimmed red. She stops in her tracks when she sees me.

“Apujan,” she says, blinking at me like this is the first time she’s seen me.

“Are you okay?” I ask, even though it doesn’t feel like enough. From her broken voice, her blotchy face, I know that she isn’t okay.

Priti rubs at her eyes as Ali appears from the classroom behind her. She looks at us both warily before dashing away to the other side of the hallway.

Priti watches her for a moment before shaking her head. “I’m fine. I’m …” she pauses, looking up at me with wide eyes. “The henna tubes. Did you get them? I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry about that,” I cut her off. Priti obviously has bigger things to worry about, and here I was getting her involved in something that could potentially get her into trouble. I should never have asked her to help me. “Come on, let’s go get some food, yeah?”

I take her hand in mine and begin to lead her toward her locker, where I know she has stuffed away her lunch box.

Priti sniffles, wiping away the last of her tears with the hand that I’m not holding. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice comes out a lot more definitive than just a moment ago.

“Okay,” I say. “We don’t have to talk. Just … the food?”

She nods, and the two of us settle into a corner of the hallway, lunch boxes open. I try to ignore the pang of guilt in my stomach from forgetting about Priti’s problems with Ali because of what happened to me. For putting her at risk, when I should have known better. The henna competition is important, and I want to beat Flávia and Chyna. But the cost of it can’t be my sister.





22

MS. MONTGOMERY FINDS ME FIRST THING THE NEXT morning, before I’ve even had the chance to go to my locker. My stomach drops at the sight of her because for a moment I’m afraid that Flávia and Chyna decided to report me after all. Priti awkwardly hovers beside me, clearly trying to eavesdrop on the conversation. I shoot her a glare, but she doesn’t get the message.

“Nishat, I’ve been informed that the text sent about you might have something to do with this business competition. Do you know anything about that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not a big deal.” I train my eyes on my shoes instead of her.

“Nishat, this is serious. It can be good to be competitive, but this is not healthy competitiveness. It’s harassment, and whoever did this will face serious consequences. If it’s someone participating in the competition, I will find out and disqualify them, at best. At worst, Ms. Murphy will ensure that they face a long suspension.” When I look up, she looks determined. Like she really believes she’ll get to the bottom of this.