What should I wear?
What are you bringing?
Do you think my gift is boring?
Did you tell Catherine that you’re bringing me?
Are you sure it’s okay for me to come?
She only responded to about five of my texts, but I couldn’t really blame her for that.
Chyna was already at the front door when I arrived, ringing the bell and waving at Ammu while she backed out of the driveway with one eye on me the entire time.
“Hey,” Catherine said after flinging open the door. She was smiling at me tight-lipped, and I immediately knew the answer to half of my texts. Chyna hadn’t told Catherine she was bringing me. It wasn’t okay for me to come.
But I was there already, my hands full of bags, my Ammu already halfway home, and there was nothing I could do. So I swallowed my pride and stepped inside, mumbling a half-hearted, “happy birthday!” and thrusting a present into Catherine’s hands.
Chyna fit into the party like the final piece in a puzzle. I fit into the party like somebody really bad at puzzles had tried to super glue a piece in out of frustration.
For a while I hovered around the edges of the party, watching Chyna be the life of it.
I texted Priti, pretending that my phone was the most interesting thing to ever exist.
This party is awful, I want to leave!!!
Priti texted back,you have to stick it out, it’s your first party with those girls!! YOU’LL BE OKAY!
I squeezed in next to Chyna mid-conversation.
“Hi!” I tried to be bright and bubbly like I’d seen Chyna be with other people. On her, it was charming. On me? Pathetic, maybe. That’s what I gauged from the way everyone in that room looked at me, with smiles that didn’t reach their eyes.
“Oh, this is … Nishat.” Chyna was smiling the exact same sort of smile as the others. She waved a hand at me as if everybody couldn’t see me clearly. As if my brown skin didn’t set me apart like a question mark in a sea of full stops.
“Nesha, hi, I’m Paulie,” a girl with bright red hair said, sticking out her hand like we were middle-aged moms and not twelve- and thirteen-year-olds.
“Uh, hi. It’s Ni-shat.”
“Neesha.”
“Nishat.” I tried again.
A wrinkle appeared on her forehead, like pronouncing my name was a difficult math problem she couldn’t quite get right.
“Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” Chyna was already pulling me up and away from the crowd of girls before I managed to reply to her. She pulled me into a corner of the hall, right by the door. I remember seeing a reflection of the sunset on Chyna’s face—gold and orange and red.
“I think you should go.”
I frowned. “You invited me here.”
“It was a mistake. I thought it’d be okay but I think Catherine just said I could bring a friend to be nice.”
“But I’m already here.”
“Yeah, well, you can make up an excuse and leave. Tell Catherine you’re feeling sick, I’m sure she’ll get it.”
“What about you?” I asked. I didn’t think both of us could pretend to be sick and get away with it. “You’ll tell her you need to go with me, to make sure I’m okay?”
Something passed over Chyna’s face. A shadow, or maybe just the sunlight on its way down. But there was a shift. Not just in her expression, but in the air around us.
