Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating

Sometimes I think that maybe I like guys more as a concept than a reality.

You made a mistake, and your Abba made a mistake too. It doesn’t make anybody the worst anything in the world. It just makes us human.

My point, dear sister, is that we all have people who we bend ourselves for the approval of. For you and me, it's Ammu and Abbu. For Hani, it's her friends. We all need to fit in, or need approval. You and Hani aren't that different, if you think about it.

Right now, all men seem overwhelmingly unattractive - except the ones on the Netflix shows I watch.

I want to ask her again, why. Why is she friends with people who don’t let her be who she is? Who make her feel uncomfortable and embarrassed of who she is?

Ishu smiles, and my breath hitches at the sight of it. She smiles so rarely that each one – the genuine ones that light up her entire being – feels like a gift. Like something private she has only reserved for me.

Family is complicated, Hani. Everyone has a different relationship with their family.

Gathered up in her arms with the beat of Bollywood music all around me, everything feels strangely right. Like none of the bad stuff even matters any more. Because as long as Hani and I are side-by-side, everything will be all right.

She smiles so rarely that each one—the genuine ones that light up her entire being—feels like a gift. Like something private she has only reserved for me.

they won’t know that you were never winning for them—you were doing it for yourself.

Can I at least talk about the racist British media attacking Meghan Markle?” I ask.

Aisling rolls her eyes again. “Why is this even a thing? Everyone knows that you’re going to be with a guy at the end of the day, and this whole bisexuality thing is your way of seeming interesting or whatever. Like you’re so Muslim you won’t even drink a drop of alcohol and you want us to think you’re for real gay?

Who studies biology and chemistry first thing on a Saturday morning?

I lie back in bed and stare up at the beige ceiling, wishing that feelings and relationships made any kind of sense. But of course they don't. That would be too easy.

Because as long as Hani and I are side-by-side, everything will be alright.

At least try shifting him before you make up your mind.

It’s a good thing I spent last night studying because Ms. Taylor springs a surprise test on us as soon as we walk into double biology in the afternoon.

I’ve been relegated to calling her Ishita, like someone who doesn’t know her, hasn’t spent time with her, hasn’t held her hand or thought about her until the late hours of night with butterflies in my stomach. Like we’re nothing to each other.

I slide my finger over both the notifications so that they disappear. I turn on Spotify, hit shuffle, and turn the music up the loudest it will go. I drown out the world—and, most importantly, my thoughts—and just stare out the window, focusing on the rain against the glass, the hazy cars passing, and the music.

Every time my phone rings these days I get goosebumps and I fucking hate it. Having a crush—and I've decided that is unfortunately what I'm afflicted with—is the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

How are lying and manipulating mistakes?

people think our culture must be why we act and say the things we do

you made a mistake, and your Abba made a mistake too,' she murmurs. 'It doesn't make anybody the worst anything in the world. It just makes us human.