Someone’s phone buzzed, but I was too busy having my realization to care.
“Oh my gosh,” Ruth wheezed as she checked her phone. She stared at it like she’d seen a ghost.
“What is it?” Fabián asked.
“Gah!” Suddenly, she threw her phone to the other side of the room, as if she’d seen a big spider on it. It bounced away in its giant glitter case. I jerked out of my shame spiral.
“Ruth, what is wrong with you?” Fabián demanded.
“N-nothing,” Ruth stuttered. “Absolutely nothing is wrong.”
Fabián narrowed his eyes, staring between Ruth and her far-flung phone. He scurried toward it, flipped it over, and gasped even louder than Ruth did.
“What? What?” I exclaimed.
The blood had drained out of Fabián’s face. “Just a white person wearing a sombrero. It was offensive, so I gasped,” he replied too quickly to be believable.
“Fabián,” I growled. “Show me the phone.”
“Fabián, don’t—!” Ruth shouted.
With a sigh, Fabián handed it over. And there, at the top of the #JamesKPolkHigh photo feed, was Wesley holding hands with a girl who looked vaguely familiar. HOMECOMING DATE! the caption read, followed by a bunch of heart emojis.
“WHAT?” I screamed, throwing Fabián’s new shoes across the room. “We’re broken up for less than twenty-four hours and he gets a new girlfriend?” Ever since that kiss, I’d been hoping I would be his Homecoming date, even if yesterday had quickly deflated that dream. Besides, Homecoming wasn’t until the beginning of October. Who had dates lined up already?
“I told you,” Ruth shot at Fabián. “She’s in a fragile state.”
I zoomed in on the photo and realized the girl was one of Wesley’s church friends from orientation who’d been completely quiet as Hudson made fun of my name. To top it off, she had the smallest, daintiest nose I’d ever seen—the complete opposite of the massive one I’d inherited from my dad.
“She’s so pale they look related,” Ruth said in awe, staring at the photo of her and Wesley in matching polos.
“They’re definitely having a plantation wedding,” Fabián said.
I clicked into her account, “Teighan_23,” and instantly wished I hadn’t. Her entire feed was perfectly curated, from photos of her with her friends to staged shots of her notebook and sunglasses collection.
“At least her brand is consistent,” Fabián observed.
“Oooh, look at her flower arrangements!” Ruth squealed.
“HELLO?” I howled, hurling Ruth’s phone into a PR box. “Whose side are you on?”
I thought I’d been done with the crying portion of this breakup, but it felt like a new pipe had burst. How could Wesley get over me so quickly? Was I that forgettable? Or had Wesley been so repulsed by me that he’d gone running into the arms of this other girl?
“Want to open another box, P?” Fabián asked, handing me a sparkly one with Fabián’s name embossed on top. “I think this one has Hot Cheetos in it,” he added, trying make me feel better.
This was an actual nightmare. I’d been dumped for a girl who was tall and hairless and knew how to take the perfect selfie. Basically, she was everything I was not.
I guess this was the kind of quiet, non-loud girl Wesley wanted in the end.
“I just want to go home.” And sob into my pillow.
“Want me to walk you?” Ruth asked. I shook my head, half-heartedly eating a Cheeto. We were supposed to help Fabián film a new dance routine so he’d have better camera angles than what he could get by just sticking his phone on a tripod. Ruth needed to stay and help, seeing as how I was useless. I’d swing by tomorrow when I felt better. Now that I was in high school, I didn’t have to go to the Farsi school my parents used to force me to attend anymore, which meant my Sundays were wide open.
“I just need to be by myself for a little bit.” I tried hard to smile but failed.
Ruth put a couple peanut butter cups into my pocket. “Just in case,” she whispered.
■ ■ ■ KICKED OUT OF MY OWN HOUSE 5:00 P.M.
My phone buzzed as I sulked around my neighborhood.
5:32 PM FABIÁN: parvin, how long are you going to mope for? it was just one kiss. it wasn’t like . . . a real relationship
5:33 PM RUTH: Let her mourn, Fabián! Remember how sad you were when the dance team lost nationals last year?
5:33 PM FABIÁN: ok, fine—you get one more day of mourning parvin!
5:40 PM PARVIN: So generous, Fabián. So kind.
5:41 PM FABIÁN: and then you have to help me pick out my first day of school outfit after we film! i only have two days to perfect it!
I put my phone away in the blinding afternoon sunlight and put on my headphones. Mom had forced me out of the house, saying she needed to fumigate my room for cockroaches because of all the food I had left in my bed. She could be so dramatic sometimes.
I walked past the old church in our neighborhood and through the park where the vines were so thick you couldn’t tell where one tree ended and another began. I’d been holed up with my air conditioner all day after Fabián’s and had forgotten how humidity made going for a walk feel like swimming in warm soup. My curly hair had probably frizzed out into oblivion, but who cared? Nobody was going to see me, and nobody was ever going to think of me as pretty or worth dating again. Better to begin my life as an old crone now.
There was nothing to do about the Wesley situation that could make me feel better. I had Fabián and Ruth, didn’t I? As long as I had my friends, I would be okay. Fabián was spending the rest of today editing the dance routine they’d filmed this morning, while
