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Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating(16)

Author:Adiba Jaigirdar

“Okay, whatever.” I roll my eyes, before remembering that I’m trying to be popular so I probably shouldn’t do that. “Um. Maybe another day?” I smile, even though I hate how desperate my voice sounds.

“Yeah, maybe,” Yasmin says in a voice that tells me there will definitely not be a day when I’m sitting next to them for lunch.

I turn away and look over the rest of the classroom, broken up into cliques: I belong in none of them, and I can’t see that changing in the future either.

I’m about to turn around and go back to my usual lunch spot at a dark corner by the lockers when I spot the group at the back of the room: Humaira, Aisling, and Deirdre are joined in a hushed discussion.

My strange conversation with Humaira from Saturday morning had almost completely dissipated from my mind, despite the strangeness of her request. Now it comes to me again. Humaira’s desperation.

Maybe Humaira’s desperation is exactly what I need right now. Usually, I would write a pro/con list before making a decision like this, but seeing the three of them right there, deep in conversation, I know I don’t have the time for my carefully curated decision-making process.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m strolling to the end of the room, hoping against hope that Humaira hasn’t come clean to her friends yet.

“Hey, Humaira.” The three of them blink up at me. “Um … do you think I could talk to you for a sec? Uh, privately?”

“Oh …” For a moment, Humaira’s eyes travel to her two friends, before she turns to me with a smile that takes up her whole face. “Sure!” She’s up in a flash, almost like she was expecting to see me. “Be right back!”

chapter eight

hani

ISHITA LEADS ME AWAY FROM THE CLASSROOM AND TO a deserted corner of the hallway lined with lockers.

“So …” She folds her arms over her chest, like I’m the one who dragged her here and not the other way around.

“So …”

“Did you tell your friends the truth?”

“Not yet.” I sigh. “Sorry … I mean. I was just going to.” That probably doesn’t make me sound any better, considering I leapt out of my seat as soon as Ishita appeared.

“Don’t.” Ishita’s voice is stern. “I mean, look. I was thinking, and maybe we should give your plan a try.” She shrugs, her voice sounding so casual that it makes me suspicious.

“And what made you change your mind?”

“I just had a change of heart. I want to help you out.” She looks at me like she’s doing me a huge favor.

If it was anyone else, I would believe that they were doing it out of the goodness of their heart. But Ishita?

“Right.” I scoff. “Cough up the real reason. Come on. What’s in it for you?”

She finally drops her arms to her sides and says, “I need to be Head Girl.”

It’s so unexpected that I can only blink at her for a full minute. “What?”

“Head Girl. I want to be Head Girl.”

“Since when? You’ve never cared about that stuff.”

“Yeah, well. I care now. And … people … like you.” She frowns at me, like she doesn’t quite understand why they do but she’s willing to entertain it. “You’re like, friends with everyone. So if we pretended to date and you put in a good word for me …?”

“And you would play along with my friends?”

“Yes.” Ishita nods. “Totally. Like, whatever you—well.” She stops herself before she can finish her sentence. “Not whatever you want. Within reason, obviously.”

“You know you’re going to have to pretend to like me, right?” I ask. “And … if you want to be Head Girl, you’ll also have to pretend that you like other people.”

Ishita scrunches up her face as if she’s in pain. “Yeah,” she grunts. “I know.”

I want to ask her more, but I doubt Ishita will answer. She looks like she barely wants to be having this conversation with me now.

“Should I … come over after school? We can figure out all the logistics, and—”

“No.” Ishita cuts me off. “I mean … maybe I should come over to yours? You said you’re out to your parents, right?”

“You know we’re just going to talk, right? Figure this out? Not—”

“Just give me your address.” Ishita is already taking her phone out of the pocket of her shirt. She looks up at me expectantly.

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