And then I walked away, noticing how all the cars parked in Teighan’s driveway had square red stickers on them, telling us to Make America Great Again.
“Who’s your friend?” I overheard someone ask as I walked away from the barbecue.
“No one,” Wesley replied.
■ ■ ■ HASTY RETREAT 6:05 P.M.
EMERGENCY! I texted Ruth and Fabián. CODE RED. 911.
6:07 PM FABIÁN: what? what is it?
6:08 PM RUTH: Did you eat too much dairy again?
6:08 PM PARVIN: I just ran into Wesley and his new girlfriend! And . . . I told them I already had a date to Homecoming!
6:08 PM FABIÁN: yOU WhAT?
6:08 PM RUTH: Why would you do that?
6:09 PM PARVIN: I don’t know! I panicked!
6:09 PM FABIÁN: now you have to get a date, you fool!
6:10 PM RUTH: But who’ll go with her?
6:10 PM PARVIN: Ruth! I’m right here!
Why did I say I had a date to Homecoming? Could Wesley tell I was lying? He seemed pretty upset, though.
Homecoming at Polk was a real step up from the sad Fall Ball we had in middle school, where the gym was decorated with a maximum of two streamers and there were no slow songs so as to discourage any “close proximity.” I’d spent most of our middle school functions next to the soda table, watching Fabián dance so well that circles formed around him while shy boys asked Ruth if she wanted to dance.
But still—this lie would seriously backfire if I didn’t show up to Homecoming with someone impressive. Someone cool, who would make Wesley feel like dumping me was a mistake. I needed a date to prove I was different from Middle School Parvin, and that I could wake up in the morning and have that amazing feeling again—the feeling of knowing someone liked me.
I walked home in a daze. How could I find someone like that? And even more important, how could I con them into being my date? Because chances were someone that awesome would want nothing to do with me. I thought I had lucked out with Wesley because he liked me just the way I was, but the second he got to school, it was like he was embarrassed to be seen with me. Something about me was just too much for public consumption. If I wanted a date who didn’t dump me the second we were in front of his friends, I’d need to have a serious personality change.
But what should I change it to?
By the time I got home, I still had no clue.
Clearly, I needed a plan.
■ ■ ■ MY HOUSE 8:00 P.M.
Emergency sleepover. Tonight, Ruth and I were going to paint our nails and basically apply everything from my bathroom onto our bodies at the same time while hopefully brainstorming ways to get me a Homecoming date.
Ruth also suggested we watch some of our favorite movies to cheer me up. I’ll try anything at this point. She queued up The Little Mermaid, The Princess Bride, and My Big Fat Greek Wedding. She even brought over sheet masks for us to swap out between films, and Mom and Dad actually provided sustenance in the form of takeout kabob, complete with crunchy rice and Iranian desserts. We were getting our Labor Day BBQ after all.
Before I started the first movie, I called Fabián, just to see if he was still busy.
“Parvin, just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to come to girls’ night. I’m still a dude,” he explained patiently to me.
“It’s not girls’ night, Fabián. It’s just a movie night to help me feel better, because I am in the throes of heartbreak. So, you don’t want to watch films and eat kabob with us?”
“Yes,” Fabián explained. “Exactly.”
“Or do face masks,” I confirmed.
“Wait.” He paused.
“Yes?”
“Are they Korean face masks? The fancy ones?”
“Yep.”
“Give me ten minutes.”
I knew it.
■ ■ ■ MY ROOM 10:00 P.M.
We have consumed three orders of chelo kabob, a Styrofoam thingie of baklava, and an entire packet of Swedish Fish. Fabián nursed a cup of black tea my dad made him, sipping it with his pinkie up like an adult. Who was he even?
Ruth moaned, clutching her stomach. She didn’t know that the secret to eating kabob was not to fill up too much on rice, but now her stomach was stuffed beyond reason. I couldn’t blame her, though—it was sneaky rice, filled with sour cherries and pistachios, and too delicious not to eat. Meanwhile, Fabián inhaled a handful of peanut butter cups and reached for more. Where did it go? He was thin as a rail and could probably win one of those eating competitions and then grab a milkshake on the way home.
I adjusted my sheet mask, my first one of the night. It was already drying out. “Should I use a peach one afterward? Or one that smells like coconut?”
“You should use the peach one,” Fabián explained. “It promotes elasticity.” Whatever that was. I put on the new mask and cuddled up next to him.
“Get your own blanket,” he said, snatching it back.
I cuddled up next to Ruth instead. “Ruthie, are you okay?”
She nodded meekly, taking a sip of water.
I tried rubbing her tummy but she batted my arm away. She must have hit a food coma.
We were getting near the end of The Little Mermaid, one of Ruth’s favorite animated movies. She used to dress up as Ariel every year for Halloween and comb her hair with a fork and everything.
When the movie finished, I pressed play on The Princess Bride. We watched as Buttercup ordered Farm Boy around in what was the weirdest kind of flirting ever.
“Hey, isn’t Farm Boy’s name Wesley?” Ruth asked.
“It’s Westley,” Fabián corrected.
My body froze up. Just the mention of Wesley’s name made me clammy all over again. I could feel the memory of him from that night at the beach dragging me under like dark waves. The glint of his braces loomed closer, leaning in for a kiss. I could practically taste the orange lip gloss I’d worn.
“Parvin? Parvin?” Ruth was shaking me. I resurfaced, blinking back through
