More than anything, I wish I could speak to Amma about everything. She would know exactly what we should do about Nik. Exactly what I should say to Ishu. I even have a fleeting thought that if our secret is about to come out, why not just come clean to Amma?
But I know that I can’t do that. It would be betraying Ishu. And I’m just not ready for anyone to know yet. But I do wish I had someone who would tell me what I should do.
When Abba mentions his plans of canvassing during lunch on Sunday, I almost leap out of my chair with excitement.
“Can I help?”
Abba and Amma exchange a glance. I’m not sure what it means but I don’t think it’s anything positive.
“Are you okay, Hani?” Amma asks. “You’ve been acting … a little odd for the past few days.”
“I’m fine.” My voice comes out squeaky, suggesting that I’m not fine at all. I clear my throat and give Amma and Abba the biggest smile I can muster. “It’s just … the summer exams are almost here and … that’s … stressful.”
“And … you’re in a new relationship.”
I can almost feel my smile falter at that, but I try to keep it up. “Yeah … and that.” The thought of Ishu tugs at my stomach but I try to shake that odd feeling off of me. “But … I want to help canvass!” I turn to Abba. Getting out of the house and helping Abba with the election is exactly the thing I need to do. “I already know all your policies. Who better to help you?”
Abba doesn’t quite look convinced. “I don’t know, Hani. I don’t know how comfortable I feel with you going door-to-door—”
“I’ve done it before,” I remind him. “How many times have I gone door-to-door for the MS read-a-thon or the annual walk-a-thon?”
A smile flickers on Abba’s lips and I know that I’ve convinced him. “That was in this neighborhood.”
“So … I’ll canvass right here, close to home!” I gulp down the last of my sandwich and stand up. “I’ll be the best canvasser, Abba, I promise.”
Abba heaves a sigh. “Okay … but this is a big responsibility, and you need your friends to help you.”
All the enthusiasm I was feeling simmers out. “Why do I need them?”
“You’re not doing this on your own, Hani. Your friends can help. They came with you to my speech at the mosque, right? It won’t take long.”
“And afterwards, you guys can get pizza and watch a movie or something,” Amma chimes in. “Or I can even make them dinner.” She beams, like making dinner for my friends is her favorite thing to do. Every time Aisling and Dee come over, Amma has to make “white people food.” Not even “white people spicy” food as she would for other non-Bengalis, just white people food, because Aisling and Dee won’t eat any Bengali food—though they’ve never even tried it.
“Yeah, I’ll text them,” I say, though it’s really the last thing I want to do. At the mosque, they didn’t even want to stay until the end of Abba’s speech—they got fed up almost as soon as they got there. I’m not sure they’ll be much help here either, but at least they wouldn’t be able to accuse me of ditching them to hang out with Ishu for the weekend.
I throw on a pair of jeans and a campaign t-shirt that Abba had made ages ago. It’s bright blue and says VOTE KHAN #1! across the chest. The doorbell rings almost as soon as I’m dressed. It buzzes once, then twice, then one loud long buzz that lasts until I fling the door open. I try hard not to frown at Aisling and Dee standing in front of me, their arms crossed over their chests and looking like this is the last place they want to be.
In fact, they look like they’re about to go to a party instead of out campaigning for Abba’s election. They both have on full faces of makeup. Dee is wearing a crop top and a skirt that barely covers her thighs, while Aisling is wearing a black dress that reaches just above her knees.
“Hi …” I don’t mean the greeting to sound like a question, but it does. Because I have a lot of questions as I take the two of them in. I hold out the t-shirts that Abba has stashed in our store room. “These are my dad’s campaign t-shirts.”
Dee and Aisling exchange a glance. It makes discomfort settle in my stomach, but I try to shrug that feeling off of me.
“Cool, thanks.” Aisling reaches out and grabs both the t-shirts, cradling them in her hands awkwardly. Neither of them make any indication of wanting to come inside the house to get changed. They just … kind of stand there, looking odd and out of place outside my front door.