“You know that I can’t.” My voice is low and I hate the way it sounds. Defeated. Sad. Sorry, almost.
“Why not?” Aisling pushes. I don’t know if she’s just an excellent actor or if she really doesn’t know.
“I’m Muslim … I don’t drink,” I say finally. There’s silence for a moment, as if this is the first time everyone in the room has realized that I’m Muslim.
“Yeah, but you’re not that kind of a Muslim,” Dee says after a beat of silence. “You don’t even wear like the …” She makes a circular motion around her head. To indicate a hijab, I guess.
“Well. I don’t know what kind of a Muslim I am, but I don’t drink,” I say, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat. “Sorry …”
Aisling smiles, and even though it’s friendly, there’s some cruelty hidden behind it. “That’s okay. We’ll find someone else for our team … Hannah? Can you swap seats with Maira?”
Changing seats with Hannah feels like something shameful. Like it’s supposed to be a punishment for not participating in the game. Everybody watches as we change seats, the silence in the room palpable. The whole time, I’m biting back tears.
Hannah was at the very edge of the room, and as everybody gathers to play the game, it feels like I’m even more left out. Like they’ve all entered into a circle, and I’m the only one on the outside looking in.
Everybody forgets about me the minute I change seats. Everybody … except Ishu.
She offers me a smile. Not the forced, awkward kind she offers people when she’s trying her hardest to be pleasant.
A real, genuine smile.
It’s the only thing that gets me through the next hour.
chapter eighteen
ishu
BY THE TIME THE GAME IS OVER, EVERYBODY BUT ME IS a little tipsy. More and more people filter in as we play Aisling’s ridiculous game. The music grows louder. The party grows bigger and wilder. All the while Hani sits on the edge of everything, looking absolutely miserable but trying her hardest to hide it.
Everybody breaks up into different rooms almost as soon as we finish. Deirdre calls Domino’s to order pizza, and Aisling turns up the music in the sitting room so loud that you can barely hear yourself think, driving out half the people in the room.
I weave through them, grab hold of Hani and slip out with the crowd until we find a secluded corner in the hallway. The music is still so loud we have to stand a little too close to hear each other.
“Are you okay?”
Hani shrugs. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” She gives me that smile, which is ridiculously fake.
“You know Aisling and Deirdre planned that, right?” Hani flinches and backs away, like hearing the truth is physically hurting her.
She shakes her head. “Why would they do that? They’re my friends.”
“Because they’re assholes?” I try.
Hani just shakes her head again. I don’t know who she’s trying to fool because we both know whatever happened earlier on is not how friends treat each other.
“We should get back to the party,” she says. “You’re not going to be Head Girl by standing around here talking to me.”
The last thing I want to do is go back inside and talk to people, or be in close proximity to Aisling. But Hani is right. I didn’t come here to try to get her to believe that she deserves better than her asshole friends. I came here to try and convince people that I should be Head Girl. To network. To make friends.
This is Hani’s problem, not mine.
I still feel a pang of guilt in my gut when I nod my head. “Yeah, you’re right … we should go and … talk to people.”
“Come on.” We veer away from the sitting room, where Aisling has cleared away the tables and pushed the couches to the walls to create a makeshift dance floor. In the kitchen, people are drinking and eating snacks. They’re waiting on the pizza, I guess. My stomach rumbles at the thought. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. I’m starving.
“Hey, guys!” Hani waves to a group of girls in one corner of the kitchen. I recognize them as people from our year: Gemma Young, Aoife Fallon, and Meg Hogan. They turn to us with static smiles.
“Hey, Maira,” they mumble in uncomfortable unison. Hani either doesn’t notice or doesn’t want to notice their discomfort.
“Enjoying the party?” Hani smiles.
“Sure. That game of Kings was really fun.” Gemma’s tone is pointed. Hani tucks a strand of hair back, but doesn’t let Gemma faze her.