I try not to think about it because it’s making me feel something that I don’t want to feel.
“I’ve never heard of any of these places. Are they even any good?” Aisling barely glances at the phone. “Will we like the food? Maira isn’t the only person here, you know.”
“I’m sure you can venture a little out of your comfort zone of low-price greasy pizza,” Ishu says. She’s smiling—she’s gotten much better at that—but her voice contains so much venom that it’s pretty much just passive aggression. Or really just pure aggression. I’m not sure if I’m touched by Ishu’s support of me or annoyed at how much she’s pushing this.
Thankfully, before any of us can say anything else, Dee and Colm appear.
“Hey, you guys made it.” Dee grins. “So, are we off to get food? I’m starved.”
“We were thinking Captain America’s,” Aisling says, like the previous conversation never happened.
Something dangerous flashes in Ishu’s eyes. I reach over and place my hand over her clenched fingers, afraid that she’s going to say—or worse, do—something that’s going to jeopardize everything. Ishu’s face softens at the touch—whether this is because she’s deeply confused about it or what, I’m not sure. Because the whole thing is sending goosebumps along my body in a way that I definitely do not enjoy. Or, don’t want to enjoy.
“You guys go ahead. Ishita and I will join you in a bit,” I say.
Aisling and Barry are already standing up. Barry looks at us over his sunglasses like he’s only just noticed our presence.
Aisling dusts off her dress and says, “Okay, but hurry. We’re hungry.”
As soon as they’re out of sight, I pull my hand away and settle Ishu with the best glare I can work up under the circumstances. “What are you doing?”
“Um, making sure you can actually eat at the place we’re going to?”
“Well. While I appreciate your concern, it’s not going to get you any Head Girl voters.”
“Right.” Ishu blinks like she had forgotten about the Head Girl thing—the entire reason she’s here and we’re doing this. “I just thought …” She shakes her head.
“Just remember everything I told you. Remember Riverdale.” I look her right in the eye as if I can transfer all of my knowledge and love of Aisling and Dee through eye contact. If only.
“Riverdale,” Ishu whispers. “KJ Apa and Cole Sprout.”
“Sprouse. Cole Sprouse.”
“Cole Sprouse.” Ishu smiles. “I got it. By the end of the night, I’ll be Aisling and Deirdre’s new best friend.”
chapter twenty-four
ishu
IT’S SAFE TO SAY THAT BY THE END OF THE NIGHT, I DO not become best friends with Deirdre or Aisling. But I also don’t become mortal enemies with them.
In fact, I spend our date laughing at all of their bad jokes and pretending that all of the basic white boys they find attractive are actually attractive. I even pretend that dating Barry and Colm—like making the decision to date them—makes any kind of sense.
We decide to part ways at the Luas stop. Hani declares she’s going to drop me home like we’re some antiquated heterosexual couple and not two queer teens who don’t even have access to a car. Aisling and Dee are catching a bus home, and Barry and Colm are getting two separate buses.
Aisling actually flashes me a smile as we say goodbye—and it’s not the kind of smile that suggests she wants to destroy me.
“You know, you should come hang out with us during lunchtime at school,” she says.
Hani nudges my shoulder with hers like I’ve just received an invitation to visit the Queen at Buckingham Palace, and Dee nods her head up and down a little too fast, like a bobblehead.
“Sure, that might be nice,” I say, with a smile of my own.
“Great, see you later!” With that, Aisling, Dee, Colm, and Barry turn and begin to make their way home.
“She likes you!” Hani exclaims, turning to me with delight etched into every inch of her face.
“I guess I should have tried to date her, not you.” I smile.
Hani slaps me lightly on the wrist. “Shut up. Like you could have achieved any of that without my help.”
We pile onto the Luas and, surprisingly, manage to find seats together. Hani is still smiling so brightly that I’m surprised her cheeks don’t collapse from the effort.
“A lunch invite doesn’t mean we’re friends,” I point out. “Or that she’s going to support me as Head Girl.”