Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating(20)

Before I can ask—before I can even formulate a question—Ishu looks at the watch on her wrist and declares, “I should get to that. Tell Aunty. And I’ll see you later. Bye!” And then the screen is blank.




“You woke up early today,” Amma says as soon as I descend the stairs. There’s a question in her voice, though she doesn’t ask it.

“Yeah.” I pick my words slowly, because I’m not sure how to say this. Lying to Amma is definitely not something that comes easy to me. “Ishita called me and woke me up.”

“Oh … I didn’t know you were that kind of friends,” Amma says with a raised eyebrow.

I take a deep breath and admit, “Actually, we’re not. We’re not really friends at all. I mean … we are, but like … not friends like … like …” Amma is staring at me as if she knows exactly what I’m about to say. So I just say it. “Ishita and I are kind of seeing each other.” The words come out in a rush. Somehow, Amma seems to understand me, because she looks taken aback. So maybe she didn’t know what I was about to say at all.

“Oh,” she says after a moment of hesitation. “That’s … not what I expected but … I’m glad. I’m happy for you!” She sounds happy—but in a clipped, fake way. I look down, instead of at the fake smile on her lips.

“It’s just, like … new,” I explain. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I was just … figuring things out?”

“Hani.” Suddenly, Amma’s arms are wrapped around me in an embrace. I can smell the scent of her coconut shampoo and sweet, rose-tinted perfume. “I’m happy for you. Really happy for you.” She sounds sincere this time. She sighs once we’ve parted and says,” It’s just that Ishita is … well, really interesting. Very intense.”

“She’s … nice.” I flinch once the words are out, because of all the words that anybody could use to describe Ishu, nice is not one of them. Even Amma knows that. “I mean, she is intense. But … I like that. And, you know, she gets me. And she’s like … um … a good influence? With her intense need to study and everything.”

“You know I don’t think you need to throw yourself into your academics in the Dey style,” Amma says. “I don’t want her to convince you that that unhealthy attitude to academics is aspirational.”

“She won’t,” I say. “But … I … like her.” I don’t know if I sound convincing. I must because Amma nods firmly.

“Well, good. I’m happy for you. You can tell Ishita that she’s welcome at our place any time.”

“Oh, but she’s not out to Aunty and Uncle,” I add quickly, as I begin to pour my cereal. “So we should keep it on the down low, you know.”

“Okay, got it,” Amma says. Just like that.

Sometimes, I feel astonished at how easy Amma and Abba have made things for me. How easily I can be myself with them. How easily they’ll accept everything about me and their willingness to talk things out.

Today is one of those days for sure.

And for that reason, the guilt clenching my guts is just that much stronger.




Aisling and Dee don’t bring up Ishu at all for the whole school day, but there’s a kind of tension hanging over us. There has been since Ishu called me away at lunch yesterday. Like something unspoken in the shape of Ishu is standing between me and the two of them.

Still, Aisling goes on about how she failed her biology test like everything is normal. And Dee spends most of the day fawning over how Colm bought her tickets to her favorite band’s concert for her birthday. She goes on and on about it, like Colm singlehandedly invented romance or something.

At the end of the day, as the three of us are gathering our books by our lockers, Ishu comes up to us tentatively. Aisling and Dee immediately stiffen, and silence washes over us. It’s like just Ishu’s presence is enough to make them both uncomfortable.

“Hey.” I can tell Ishu is trying to be pleasant, even through her clipped tone. “Aisling, Deirdre …” She gives them both a nod of acknowledgment that’s too serious to be considered friendly. Then, she turns to me and says, “Ready, Humaira?”

“I’m going to need a couple more minutes,” I say. I brought my P.E. bag with a simple change of clothes—a dress and a pair of leggings. I even brought over my makeup bag, though I’m not sure exactly what the protocol is supposed to be here. All I know is that I definitely don’t want to go to any fancy restaurant wearing my puke green school uniform.

“All right …” Ishu mumbles, still hovering by our lockers. She’s dressed in faded blue jeans and a baby pink hoodie with a doodle of a cat on it. So I guess we’re dressing down. “I’ll see you outside in ten?”

“Sounds good.”

With a curt nod, Ishu turns away, and disappears around the corner of the corridor.

“You guys aren’t really together,” Aisling says. It’s a statement, not a question. “I mean … you can’t be.”

“Why would I say we were if we weren’t?” I swing my P.E. bag out of my locker, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re not even—I mean—”