“Ishu.” There’s a strange waver in Nik’s voice. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she was on the verge of tears, but she’s the last person who should be upset here. I’m not the one holding information hostage over her.
“I saw the document, yeah. Your … guide to fake dating or whatever it is,” she says. “I didn’t even read it all the way through. I figured, yeah, you sent it to me by accident. And I don’t know what it means or why you’d pretend to be in a fake relationship with Hani, but … I meant what I said last time we saw each other. We’re not kids anymore. I’m not trying to hold things over you, to win over Ammu and Abbu by screwing you over. Ishu … you can always come to me. About anything. Okay?”
I don’t know why there’s suddenly a lump in my throat, but I gulp it down. “Okay.”
“Okay …” There’s another pause filled with silence, but it doesn’t feel as uncomfortable anymore. “So … is there something you want to talk about?” she asks.
“Um, yeah, actually. I was wondering … why didn’t you become Head Girl in your final year of secondary school?”
Nik lets out a chuckle. I guess this wasn’t the question she was expecting. “Ishu … you never change, do you?”
“It’s a valid question. I have the interview tomorrow so …”
“You’ll be fine,” Nik says. “You’ll be great. Just … remember that Head Girls are there in a leadership capacity. Try to show that you’re good at working with people. You’re not just your results—you’re a person with likes and dislikes and positive qualities.”
“So … what kind of questions will they ask?” I say.
“Probably stuff about how you’d solve certain problems, you know? How you’d handle debs stuff? Conflicts between students … things like that. Be confident and be assertive. Which are basically your two best qualities. So … you’ll be great.”
“Okay, thanks,” I say. Confident and assertive. I can definitely do that.
“Is that all?” Nik’s voice suggests that she thinks it isn’t. “Or … did you call to talk about something else? Something about—”
“Nope, nothing else.” I cut her off. Before she can bring Hani up. I definitely don’t want to hash out the fake dating guide and my feelings with Nik. “Thanks for answering my questions. Enjoy your party. Bye!”
“Wait, Ish—” Before she can say anything else, I tap the button to end the call. I breathe a sigh of relief as I shift back to my desk.
I don’t think Nik’s going to tell anyone.
I send the text off to Hani. From her fast reply, I know that she’s been waiting by her phone, worrying.
Are you sure?
Am I sure? Nik sounded so sincere, like she really believed what she was saying. Sure, my sister and I don’t have the best track record in the world, but maybe things have changed in the past few years. Nik is definitely far from the ambition-driven person she was in secondary school.
So, I text Hani back with the best I’ve got:
I want to believe her.
chapter thirty-three
ishu
THERE’S A KNOCK ON MY BEDROOM DOOR THE NEXT morning as I’m changing into my uniform. There are only two people it could be—Ammu or Abbu. But it’s still strange for them to knock on my bedroom door this early in the morning.
I pull on my jumper and swing the door open to Abbu’s grim face. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, like he hasn’t slept in a while, and his usually clean-shaven face has bits of stubble all over it. I wonder if it’s to do with the Nik situation—or if it’s something else entirely.
“Morning, Abbu.” I try not to let confusion seep into my voice, even though that’s really all I’m feeling.
His lips stretch out into something that only slightly resembles a smile—it’s more of a grimace. “They’re choosing the prefects and Head Girl in school soon.” It’s not a question. I wonder how he found out, when I haven’t told him anything.
“Yep …” I trail off, going back and forth in my head about whether to tell him about the interview or not. On the one hand, I’ve already lost enough sleep about it because I’m a nervous wreck. I don’t know if I can deal with Ammu and Abbu putting pressure on me about it right now as well.
“This time two years ago, Nikhita was preparing too.” His face softens at Nik’s name, and I try not to let it bother me. “She made me do mock interviews with her.” There’s fondness and regret mixed together in his voice. “And she was so disappointed when she didn’t get it. Didn’t even want to talk to us about it.”