■ ■ ■ HOME 9:00 P.M.
9:03 PM UNKNOWN: Hey, Parvin, it’s Matty. Are you free this Saturday?
9:05 PM PARVIN: Hi, Matty. Yes I’m free.
My heart was hammering in my chest. Matty texted me! I sent him my response and screenshotted the text to my group chat. It felt good to be able to text them again.
9:06 PM FABIÁN: what? no emojis?
9:06 PM RUTH: Are you mad at him?
9:07 PM PARVIN: No, I just don’t know him well enough for emojis yet!
9:07 PM FABIÁN:
9:07 PM MATTY: Great. Want to see my improv group at the community center? We can grab dinner afterward.
9:09 PM PARVIN:
9:10 PM MATTY: What?
9:10 PM PARVIN: Sorry wrong text that sounds great.
I flopped back onto my bed. That was a close call. Was dating always going to be this exhausting? Was this what I had to look forward to? Having butterflies was fun, but it required a lot more deodorant than I anticipated. Still. It was nice to have my friends back.
In that moment, I thought back to Amir and how we still hadn’t really talked about what happened at the corn maze last weekend. I squirmed in front of my phone, wondering if I should text him, too. I settled for Ameh Sara.
9:15 PM PARVIN: I apologized to my friends, Ameh. We’re better now (hopefully)
9:18 PM SARA: See, azizam? You’re doing just fine
Friday BLEACHERS 3:00 P.M.
Amir was already waiting at the bleachers, our Farsi books spread out on his lap. It was pretty chilly out this afternoon. Soon it would be too cold for us to have our study sessions outside.
I sat down next to him, my curly hair flying all over my face in the wind. His cheeks looked red, and he had big bags under his eyes. He looked miserable, and I prayed I had no part in making him feel that way. Maybe he just had a rough day, I thought to myself. Yeah, that’s it.
“Hey,” he said, his voice different from the happy tone he used last week at the pumpkin patch. This voice sounded metallic, like Robot Amir.
“Hey,” I replied.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked. His voice cracked on the word better, but he didn’t look away.
“Um, yeah. Thanks.” I nodded. He smelled so good. And he looked really cute in his navy peacoat. Crap, despite my date with Matty, I could feel butterflies creep into my stomach with Amir, too. I had seriously underestimated how awkward today would be.
I took in Amir’s messy curly hair, huge eyelashes, and big nose, just like mine. On me, I thought those qualities held me back. But on Amir, they just made him look even more handsome. He thought I was cute just the way I was. If I allowed myself to like him, did that mean he was right? That I was fine just the way I was?
I sucked on a strand of my hair. Before my conversation with Wesley at the football game, I’d straightened my hair, plucked my eyebrows, and shaved my arms every day for school. Now I let my hair be curly, encouraged my eyebrows to grow out, and wore bright and colorful clothes. All that straightening and plucking took too long, anyway. I still had that painful ingrown hair on my thigh, though. But there was nothing I could do about that.
“So, about last Saturday . . . ,” Amir started. I stayed silent, letting him finish, like I had with Matty.
“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” he cut in.
“What do you want me to say?”
“You’re being weird,” Amir countered.
“I’m not being weird! You’re being weird,” I said, even though I knew I was definitely being weird.
Amir ran his hands through his hair, stretching out its waves. “This isn’t how I wanted today to go.”
I nodded. Me neither.
“Can we just go back to normal?” I asked. I didn’t know how to deal with all the emotions swirling around. And Amir dramatically sighing and tossing his hair wasn’t helping.
“I thought . . . ,” Amir began. “Is that what you want? To go back to how it was before?”
Now that I didn’t care about impressing Wesley, I could feel myself looking at Amir differently. He was cute, and smart, and easy to talk to. But what about Matty? I shrugged. I didn’t know what I wanted.
“Sure,” I said. Going back to normal was better than whatever this awkward conversation was.
Amir nodded, his jaw set. “Okay.” He turned back to the Farsi book and tried to find the page we needed. His eyebrows were still slanted down.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” he replied gruffly, his throat hoarse. I knew he was lying. It definitely didn’t feel like we were going back to the way things were.
He turned a page. “We finished the Nizami poem last class and switched to Rumi.” He tried to keep his voice normal. “These are the next stanzas we have to translate.”
My eyes scanned the page Amir held out. He sniffed, and I saw him dab at his eyes. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he announced suddenly, running off before I could say anything.
Had I just made Amir cry? The small sliver of guilt I felt over how I reacted to last weekend’s kiss grew. It had been almost a week since I’d seen him, and I hadn’t really bothered to text or call him after the corn maze. He must have been feeling really low right now. And after everything Wesley had done to me, I felt awful knowing I’d made
