“Okay, okay. Wow, let me breathe.” She lets me go and rubs at her eyes, like she’s trying really hard not to cry.
“Chaewon.” Jess rolls her eyes and pokes her until Chaewon does begin to sob a little bit, but also to laugh. And then we’re all giggling together and I’m not sure why, really. But it feels like a huge weight off my shoulders. It feels like the most normal thing to happen since Ali outed me to the entire school. Like at the end of the day, none of that really mattered. Not Ali, not Chyna, not even the business competition. Because I’m still here and I have my friends, my sister, my family. And things will be okay.
It feels odd to be stripping my stall. Like it’s the end of an era, even though the competition only lasted a couple of weeks. I carefully roll up the banner with the lesbian flag and tie it up with a rubber band. I’m thinking I’ll stick it up on the wall of my bedroom.
“… her mom basically did all the work for her.” A hushed whisper comes from the girls in the stall beside mine. I place my banner aside carefully. Soundlessly. So as to not attract any attention.
“That’s why Chyna even did henna as her business. These days, if you’re white, people don’t even want to consider you.”
“Right. The trendy thing is to be ‘diverse’ or whatever.”
I can’t even hear the speakers’ next words, because I’m feeling that simmering of anger inside me again.Of courseeven when Chaewon and Jess win the competition Chyna still does everything in her power to manipulate the situation.
I catch sight of her and Flávia packing up their stall next to Chaewon and Jess’s. The next thing I know I’m marching right over there and staring Chyna in the face.
“Nishat.” Her lips are pressed into a thin line. “What do you want?”
“You can’t stand that someone else gets attention even for a second, can you?” The words tumble out of me before they’ve even formed in my mind. It’s like I’m working off adrenaline.
Her lips get thinner somehow. “What are you talking about?” she asks at the same time that Flávia shuffles over with wide eyes and says, “Hey, Nishat.”
I barely register her. All I can see is Chyna, with her wispy blonde hair and blue eyes—trying to manipulate a victory for someone who deserves it, just like she tries to manipulate everything. Like she manipulated our friendship to make herself out to be kind of person who fits in, and me to be the “other.”
“Telling people that the only reason Chaewon and Jess won the business competition is because being diverse is trendy?” It’s an effort to get out the words in a remotely calm and collected way. The way Flávia is looking back and forth from Chyna to me makes me think maybe I’m not as composed as I think I am.
Chyna has the gall to sigh, like this conversation is boring her. “People like new things. It’s not exactly a reach. Whatever Korean stuff they were selling is something we haven’t seen here before so yeah, it’s trendy and nothing we have is going to be new in the same way.”
“Like henna is trendy?”
Chyna rolls her eyes. “Yes, like henna is trendy. That’s why we did the whole henna thing. That’s how business works, Nishat.” She says it as if she has a master’s degree in business and I’m someone who needs to be schooled.
There is more anger in me than I know what to do with. But before I can say anything more, Flávia’s hand is on my shoulder. Instead of sending me into a tizzy like it normally would, it actually calms me. I feel like she’s on my side for once.
“Flá, come on, we have to finish packing up,” Chyna is already turning away and I realize that a bit of a crowd has gathered around us. I must not have been as quiet as I thought I was being. Chaewon and Jess are looking at me from their almost-packed stall with wide eyes. Chaewon gives me a weak smile when I catch her eye.
“Chy, do you think it’s trendy to be Brazilian?” Flávia asks this softly enough, but it seems to ring out across the entire hall. More and more students are stopping in their tracks to listen in on this conversation. I don’t think Flávia cares.
Chyna turns back, brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and heaving another deep sigh. “What are you on about, Flávia?”
“You come to our Brazilian barbecues every summer. You eat our food. Do you think it’s trendy?”
“No … yes … I don’t know. That’s just something we do. Not a trend.”
“Neither is being Korean,” Chaewon says from the other side of us. “Or wanting to sell something that’s Korean. It’s just something I do.”
“Or henna. That’s just something that’s a part of my culture. Just like our food is—you know, the food that apparently gives everyone digestive issues?” I shrug. “One you thought was trendy, the other you didn’t, so you used it to spread rumors about my family.”
“That’s … different,” Chyna says, but for once she doesn’t sound like she actually believes what she’s saying.
Flávia shakes her head and says, “Imagine someone said the same stuff about me that you said about Nishat. Imagine they excluded me because I eat Brazilian food and speak Portuguese.”
“That would never happen,” Chyna chimes in immediately. “Flávia, that’s not … Nishat hasn’t given you the whole story. Nishat has her own friends, and her sister. I’ve never had anything against her.”
“You spread rumors about her for being a lesbian.” It’s Jess who volunteers this piece of information, and I wonder if it’s going to make Flávia back off. But it doesn’t. Her grip on my shoulder tightens, and I’m not sure if it’s to help her or to help me.
“Because being gay makes her different?” Flávia asks, and I’m not sure if anyone else hears the tremble in her voice but I do and it sends an ice pick through my heart.
“I didn’t spread any rumors about anyone,” Chyna says, with less and less conviction. “I really don’t know why you’re ganging up on me like this.”
