The Henna Wars(77)

Finally, after scrolling through my Spotify for too long and battling away awful suggestions from my whole family, I put on a Bollywood song that everyone—including Priti—complains about. I roll my eyes and sigh, leaning against Ammu’s shoulder as she puts oil in Priti’s hair. But really, inside I am bubbling over with happiness.





32

TWO WEEKS OF APPLYING HENNA, OF HARD WORK, OF accounting and of business plans pass. Despite my trashed stall, I manage to pull things together. It helps that Jess and Chaewon make me a brand-new poster with the colors of the lesbian flag. They even laminate it for good measure, so that nobody can rip it up.

But at the end of the two weeks our final presentations are due.

Ms. Montgomery told us about it the week before, calling us into her classroom at the end of the day on Friday. We all took seats as she stood at the top. She gave me a secret smile, like I’m her favorite to win; maybe that means something? That I have a chance? I seriously doubt it though.

“Next Friday is the last day of the competition,” she said in a booming voice that immediately shut everyone up. I caught sight of Flávia in one corner of the room. She was sitting beside Chyna, but she didn’t look happy about it. She shot me a weak smile.

“We’ll have your stalls set up all day, but because the judges will be coming around, you’ll also need to have your portfolios to present to them when the time comes,” Ms. Montgomery continued. “You’ll have to show them your accounts, your business plans, everything you’ve been keeping a record of. It’s not just the business with the most profit that’ll win, they’ll also be looking for the most innovative, the most eye-catching ideas. There are a lot of different criteria that go into the judging, so make sure your portfolios are up-to-date and ready.”

She went around to each group, going through what we had prepared so far and what we still needed to do. It didn’t sound too difficult. I had everything all set up, basically, since I’ve been keeping up with everything since the very beginning. I’m the daughter of a business owner, and I’ve been using Abbu’s work as an example every step of the way, and I’m Priti’s sister, which means she’s micromanaged everything. I’m kind of thankful for that now.

When presentation day comes I am fully prepared, but I still feel butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

Chaewon: TODAY IS THE DAY!!!!!

Jess: ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I keep typing and erasing, typing and erasing. I’m not sure what I can say, and I’m not sure what I feel. I’m excited, but also relieved. Today is the day all of this stops. The whole mess of me and Flávia and Chyna started with this henna business, after all. Maybe some semblance of normalcy will return to my life after today. Though after everything that’s happened, I seriously doubt it.

Jess: meet you guys at my locker before school?

Chaewon: yes!!

Nishat: see you there

We gather at our lockers with excited grins. It feels like Christmas has come early for everybody involved in the competition. We’ve been working so hard—each and every one of us—and today is the day we get to show the world what we’ve accomplished. We get to claim the fruits of our labor—or try to, anyway. We spend the first class setting everything up once again, all of our stalls and banners and posters. I put up the poster Jess made me—the lesbian flag with all of its different shades of pinks and whites and reds. I can feel the others in the hall eyeing me with disdain, but I don’t care.

Flávia catches my eye from the other end of the hall as I put it up. I smile and she smiles back, waving at me. I feel my heart speed up and I take a deep breath. I have to keep my feelings in check.

My phone vibrates in the pocket of my shirt. Two messages. From Flávia. I glance around, trying to catch her eye again, but she’s in an animated conversation with Chyna.

Flávia: good luck

Flávia: hope you win :)

My stomach plummets. I have no idea what to say back.

Me: thank you, good luck to you too

It’s the only thing that feels sincere. I want to tack on an I miss you, because I desperately do; I even type in a heart before deleting it.

Chaewon and Jess come up beside me as I slip the phone back into my pocket. Chaewon hooks her elbow with one of mine, and Jess takes the other. They both smile.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”



After the judges have had a chance to speak to all the contestants, fake smiles and clipboards in place, they take their spots on the stage that’s been set up at the top of the hall. The rest of us gather around. An excited chatter builds in the hallway, broken only by a loud shriek from the microphone as Ms. Montgomery takes hold of it.

“Oh, sorry,” she mumbles, holding the mic up to her lips and smiling down at all of us. “Um. Welcome everyone. And a very special thank you to our judges, Mr. Kelly and Ms. Walsh, for joining us today. We’re so delighted that we got the chance to participate in this competition this year. It brought out so much dedication in our young Transition Year students, and I’m sure in a few years we’ll be seeing some of them up here on stage with us.”

As she hands the mic over to Mr. Kelly, I feel a presence a little too close to me. When I turn around, I find Flávia smiling down at me. She slips her hand into mine and leans close.