“Really?” I couldn’t believe it. Did that mean I was naturally beautiful?
“Yep, the old Qajar dynasty has paintings of women with unibrows.” She held up her phone with a photo of a classical illustration featuring a woman with one thick eyebrow across her forehead. “I’ve stopped plucking my eyebrows, so you can kind of see mine growing back in.” Hanna pointed to her forehead, and sure enough, I could see the black fuzz that met in the middle of her eyebrows. I hadn’t even noticed it. It actually looked, well, kind of cool.
“Just think about it, okay?” Hanna said, patting my back. She turned to the box of Sara’s stuff while I mulled over what she said. I’d always thought body hair was something you got rid of, but I never knew there were cultures that thought it was beautiful, or something to be desired.
“And you already know how to use this, right?” Hanna held up a bottle full of what looked like oil.
“Like . . . for cooking?” I shrugged. I didn’t know how to use oil, much less cook with it.
Hanna’s eyes went wide. “No, Parvin! This is for your hair. To make your curls less frizzy.”
I stared at her blankly. “Do I comb it in?”
Hanna gasped. “Parvin! You have curly hair! You never brush it dry. EVER.”
Hanna took away the hair oil and said, “This is more serious than I thought. Homecoming is this weekend, right? I’ll come over beforehand and help you get ready.”
“But I—” I started.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll help you pick a dress,” Hanna said, packing up her things.
“But what about—”
“It’s fine, our school’s Homecoming already happened.” Hanna waved me away.
“So—” I said, trying hard to get a word in edgewise. Hanna cut me off again, cupping my chin in her hand and staring straight into my eyes.
“Parvin, worrying is bad for your face. Now I’m going to go before your mom tries to make me eat that thing for dinner. I will see you Saturday.”
She sauntered out of my room and closed the door with a snap. I flopped back onto my bed, clutching my new bottles of beauty product.
I had a lot to learn.
Saturday HOME 5:45 P.M.
I didn’t have much time before I had to leave tonight, but I knew Ameh Sara would want to see how I looked. She picked up on the first ring.
“Parvin joon, you look amazing!”
I grinned, walking backward in my bedroom so she could see my full outfit for Homecoming. Hanna had helped me pick a dress that was a cross between orange and salmon, and it made my tan skin glow.
“Thanks, Ameh.”
“I knew Hanna would do a great job. Look at you!”
I twirled. I couldn’t help it. I felt like a vibrant, radiant orb of shiny clothing and pretty skin. Even trying not to smile was a struggle, that’s how giddy I was.
“I wish you could be here, Ameh,” I said, my little bubble of happiness deflating a bit. I still couldn’t believe my aunt wasn’t going to be able to see me off for one of the biggest dances of my life. It wasn’t fair, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to forgive this country for taking her away from me.
“I wish I could be there, too, joonam.” Even through the computer screen, her eyes looked wet. I had to remind myself not to cry or I’d ruin my makeup.
“Do you have a date to the dance?” she asked. I swallowed.
“Sort of?” I replied.
Sara didn’t say anything, she just chewed on the ends of the laces that ran through her sweatshirt’s hood.
“I ruined it, Ameh. I thought . . . I thought I had to be someone different to get a date. And I ignored the people who already liked me the way I am.”
Sara took the laces out of her mouth and moved closer to the computer screen.
“Oh, ameh! You are so great the way you are. I wish I could be there to tell you that in person. But you are enough, okay? You don’t need to be anything else.”
I tipped my eyes up. This mascara was not waterproof.
“Thanks, Ameh. I needed to hear that,” I sniffed.
She smiled. “Just be yourself. I know people always say that, but only you get to decide what that means.”
I smiled back, my eyes still watery.
“I will,” I promised.
“Parvin! Time to go!” Mom called up the stairs.
“I still need to set your makeup!” Hanna shouted after her. She was downstairs with my parents, sipping chai.
“Go, go!” Ameh Sara shooed me away from the computer.
“I’ll call you tomorrow after Farsi class, okay?”
“Okay, azizam.” Sara waved and hung up.
I took one last look in the mirror and headed downstairs.
■ ■ ■ FRONT PORCH 6:00 P.M.
“Stand back and close your eyes,” Hanna commanded from our porch swing. She got out a big bottle of makeup- setting spray, and I closed my eyes just before she doused me with it.
“Now your makeup won’t move all night!” She grinned. I tried to grin back, but my face was frozen in place from the spray.
The limo pulled up. It had been Mom’s idea to rent one. I gave her a big hug, trying not to smudge my makeup.
“I love you, Mom.”
She squeezed me back. “I love you, too, sweetie. But let me grab a photo before you leave! You look so beautiful. Mahmoud! We’re taking photos!”
“Yeah, I need a photo for the ‘after’ picture,” Hanna piped up. I didn’t even realize Hanna had taken a “before” photo. Soon, Mom, Dad, Hanna, and I were all assembled on our porch, and I couldn’t remember the last time our house felt so loud.
Dad got out his nerdy Polaroid camera and snapped some photos while Mom went in with her smartphone. Meanwhile, Hanna got photos from every angle, instructing me to put my arm on my hip
