Ishu actually looks pretty calm for someone who has to spend the day sucking up to people she obviously detests.
“I just don’t want us to mess this up,” I say. “They’re the key to you becoming Head Girl. Everybody listens to Aisling … she would be Head Girl, you know. If her grades weren’t so awful.”
“Right.” Ishu sighs. “Well, I’ve been brushing up on my knowledge of royals. Did you know that the royal family member with the highest net worth is Princess Charlotte? Five billion dollars.”
“Are you planning on kidnapping her?” I ask.
Ishu heaves a sigh. “Five billion dollars wouldn’t even be enough for reparations considering all the colonization and war and genocide. And the fact that most of us are still suffering from the results of colonization and—” Ishu shuts up when she sees my sharp gaze. “I’ve … also been working on keeping my mouth shut.” She doesn’t look happy about it. And obviously she hasn’t worked that hard on it.
“Do you want me to meet you in town or do you want me to pick you up?” I ask, changing the subject.
“By ‘pick me up,’ you mean getting the bus to my house so we can get the Luas into town together?” There’s a hint of a smile on her lips. “Isn’t that a little bit of a roundabout trip for you?”
I shrug. “I don’t mind. This is important.” I’m also deathly afraid of her being stuck with Aisling, Dee, Barry, and Colm without me. I’m even afraid of her being with them when I’m there. I can’t even imagine how things would go if I leave her alone with them.
“Then … sure. Five o’clock?”
I nod. “See you then. Don’t study too much.”
Not that that’s possible for Ishu.
Ishu’s dad opens the door when I ring the doorbell. His face breaks out into a smile at the sight of me.
“Kemon acho, Babu?” he asks. “Porer shapta amader bashai tomra ashcho, na?”
“Good, Uncle. Yeah … we’ll be here next week.” I shuffle inside, wondering why Bengali parents are so bad at making conversation.
“Tomar school kemon cholche?” he asks, as I will Ishu to come downstairs and rescue me from this conversation.
“Pretty good,” I say.
“Exam to er porer bochor taina?” he asks. “Ishu to shara din raat khali pore. Tar iccha shey Cambridge theke graduate korbe. Daktari porbe.”
Ishu never mentioned that particular goal to me, but it sounds like her. The way Ishu studies, her absolute determination to be Head Girl, I guess this is where it’s all leading up to. I don’t know why I feel my stomach clench at the thought. Maybe because I can’t imagine myself going anywhere other than universities in Dublin, like DCU, UCD, or Trinity. And I haven’t even figured out what I want to do.
Ishu and I are just now becoming friends … kind of. The thought of her moving to a whole other country to obsess over her studies is the kind of thing I don’t want to think about. The kind of thing that shouldn’t make me feel like somebody has pulled the rug out from under me. But it does.
I try to shake it off and smile at Uncle. “I’m sure she’ll get in … she’s like the smartest person in our entire school.”
Uncle smiles proudly at that. Thankfully, before he can start interrogating me about where I rank in terms of my results, we hear Ishu’s quick steps on the stairs.
“Okay … pore dekha hobe.” Uncle waves his hand and disappears into the kitchen, just as Ishu appears in my line of sight.
She’s wearing a dress. No leggings. I don’t know if it’s that she’s trying to look more malleable for Aisling and Dee or what. All I know is that she looks amazing. She even has her hair neatly parted to one side and clipped away from her face.
“Hey …” She pulls down at the bottom of her dress—it almost comes up to her knees, but not quite—clearly not feeling particularly comfortable in that getup.
“You look nice.” I offer, even though it’s kind of an understatement. She looks amazing. She also looks not quite like herself. The easy confidence that Ishu normally exudes seems to have disappeared. And I don’t know if it’s because of the dress, the situation, or because of our current relationship … whatever that is.
“This is my sister’s dress,” Ishu explains, taking a seat at the bottom of the stairs and pulling on her shoes: heels that will actually make her slightly taller than me for once. “It’s … itchy.”