Milan and Petruchio were talking in the corner, still costumed, the other cast members dancing and being loud, a whirlwind of adrenaline and excitement.
I ran up and threw my arms around her. “You talented genius!”
“Ew, stop, I stink.”
I handed her the slightly crushed carnations then turned to the man who played Petruchio. “You were great too.”
“Well, I had the best sparring partner a guy could ask for. Great job, Mi.”
Milan smiled at him. I wondered if I’d intruded on something.
Ryen poked his head through the curtain with several bouquets, expensive ones that made my grocery-bought selection look gaudy. I stepped aside while he kissed Milan, her arms cradling the bouquets like newborns.
When Ryen pulled back, we exchanged a look. I forced a smile too big for my mouth. He turned away from me, wrapping his big arms around Milan, lifting her into the air.
Chapter 69
It was the first week of May, but it felt like high summer. The train stalled in the tunnel’s belly, making me late for class. Men in button-downs strangled the Metro poles, pit stains blooming on their shirts. A man did backflips in the car, forcing everyone into a painful collective witnessing. I looked at my phone. Anwar was describing another dream where he was climbing a tree that grew every time he reached up, how at some point he stopped being able to see the ground. I told him his dreams followed a pattern of things never ending, the falling through floors, now this tree that grew into the sky in perpetuity.
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That’s what Yusuf says! That I am afraid of being trapped in cycles and of endless repetition.
How did you like the soap?
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I liked it! My dad thought it was a block of cheese though
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Ahaaahaha what??? I don’t understand. It looks nothing like cheese.And it was in your bathroom, yes? I could hear my dad if I had food in the bathroom. “Habibi! What’s food doing on the toilet? Come clean this. Who taught you to eat on the toilet? Are you sick?”
I told him maybe one day I could see his family’s farm in person even though I could barely make it to California—how was I going to get to the West Bank?
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Maybe! They’re making it harder for foreigners to visit but you have an American passport I’m guessing so you can get anywhere.
I looked up travel to the West Bank just to see. The State Department basically said don’t go there because a terrorist might attack you. Anwar explained the areas, who controlled what. I thought I understood until I looked at a map online and was confused again. Why was the geography so patchy? It looked like a skin condition, something breaking out in hives. It seemed like most of the actual land was Israeli-controlled, but more people lived in Palestinian-controlled areas? How was there supposed to be Palestinian statehood if Gaza and the West Bank weren’t even connected?
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I findyoursituation confusing. You’re not a state? Or you’re a city but not inside a state? I don’t see how your thing isn’t as confusing.
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