“We can talk about this later,” Jess says. Before I have a chance to respond, she grabs hold of Chaewon’s hand and drags her away. They steal one last glance at me, like I’m someone they’ve never seen before.
I spend the whole day trying to decide what I want to tell Chaewon and Jess. Or rather, how I can convince them that weneedto beat Flávia. That weneedto run a henna business. ThatIneed this.
But how can I do all of that without telling them why? How can I convince them that right now, the business competition, the henna, the urge to win, is the only thing keeping me going? That it’s the only solid thing in my life right now? When everything else feels up in the air, out of control?
I can’t say any of those things. So at lunch I settle for approaching them with my brightest (fakest) smile and two of the finest chocolate bars you can purchase at the school’s tuck shop.
“Hey.” I sit down, offering them the bars. They accept, sharing a bewildered look but peeling the wrappers off and beginning to nibble at the ends anyway.
“Look, I’m sorry about earlier.” I say. “I was just … upset.”
“Clearly,” Jess says. Chaewon looks at her chidingly, before leaning forward, her face softening.
“Look, we understand why you were upset. We do.” I’m not sure she does. “But right now, itdoesfeel like we’re playing a very small part in all of this. And this project is supposed to be ours, you know?”
“And you’re bulldozing over us.”
“I’m not …” I begin a little too loudly. A little too angrily. I stop, take a deep breath, and begin again in a lower, hopefully calmer, voice. “I’m not trying to bulldoze over you guys. I’m sorry if I made decisions without really talking to you. But it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing.”
“How?” Jess scoffs.
“By trying to come up with the idea for the business with no input from me before? And secretly deciding between yourselves that you don’t really want to do this anymore? Talking about me behind my back?”
“Okay, first of all.” Jess’s voice rises a notch as she leans over the table between us. “You were part of the groupchat, and it’s not our fault you decided not to participate. And second, we weren’t talking behind your back.”
“Jess,” Chaewon’s voice is stern.
“We weren’t!”
“Maybe we were being a little unfair?” Chaewon asks, catching Jess’s eye. “We should hear Nishat out. She’s ourfriendand this is important to her.”
I love Chaewon so much at this moment that I could kiss her. It’s nice to know that she has my back a little bit.
Jess doesn’t look happy at being reprimanded, but she does shut up, giving me a chance to present my case. I’ve been practicing this all day, mostly in my head, but I also scribbled some notes into my phone when nobody was looking. I kind of wish I could whip them out now, but that would look weird.
“Chyna is racist,” I start.
Jess rolls her eyes, but Chaewon sits up straight in her chair. Like this is the declaration she was waiting for.
“You guys know she is. You know the things she says, about me and my sister. And … everyone else as well.”
“Yes, she says them abouteveryone.” Jess interrupts. “She’s not racist, she’s just a bitch. She’s a bad person but she isn’tspecificallybad to you because of your race.”
I shake my head, hoping that Chaewon will cut in again to back me up on this, but she doesn’t. I know she agrees with me, though. I’m not the only victim of her racist rumors.
“Well, regardless, she’s said some stuff and now she’s going around with henna on her hands. That’s cultural appropriation.”
Jess rolls her eyes again, and it takes everything in me to not reach across the table and punch her. I do have to ball my hands into fists so tight under the desk that my nails dig into my skin painfully. It helps. A little.
“Claiming cultural appropriation is a little ridiculous, don’t you think?” Jess asks. Chaewon doesn’t say anything, but her lips turn down in a frown.
“It’s not ridiculous, that’s what it is. Chyna and Flávia are making a profit off of my culture, and my culture is important to me. Henna is important to me. I’m not just going to let them walk all over me, and sell my culture like it’s some kind of product.”
“Butyoucan package and sell it like a product?”
“That’s different.”
“And how is it cultural appropriation when they have henna in ArabandAfrican countries? Flávia is …” She pauses, like she’s thinking very hard about what words she should say next. “… African-American.”
