I roll my eyes. I’ve met girls like Maya before – prissy and perfect and with zero problems in their life, always dying to show off just how amazing they are to anybody who’ll give them the time of day.
‘I think there are a few different literary devices that are used in this poem,’ Maya says in her haughty voice. Even though the question asked to give one example, Maya seems determined to use this chance to show off. Is this what every single English class is going to be like this year? ‘In the first line, we can clearly see an example of alliteration, and in the second …’
My ears perk up, my shoulders rise, and I lean forward in my seat, before my hand rises as if of its own accord.
Ms Nichols is smiling politely at Maya even though we all know that she’s totally wrong in her answer. ‘Ah, thank you, Maya. That’s not quite … In the first sentence, it wasn’t …’ Ms Nichols’s eyes drift towards me and she nods. ‘Yes?’
I have to stop myself from beaming as I answer. ‘Therearea few literary devices, but the first line is actually an example of onomatopoeia. I mean, atap,’ I say, quoting from the poem and tapping my finger against the wooden desk in front of me. ‘It’s kind of obvious.’
Maya has twisted around to look at me, her cheeks decidedly pinker than they previously were. If I thought her glare was bad before, it’s nothing compared to her expression now. If looks could kill, I would probably already be dead. I don’t return her glare, though, just give her a sickly-sweet smile, which seems to make her even more angry.
‘Yes, thank you for that, and for the demonstration too,’ Ms Nichols says with a smile. ‘I don’t think I got your name.’
‘Dina,’ I say proudly, not wanting to hide away for the first time in this class. Maybe sharing a class with Maya won’t be the worst thing in the world after all.
We get through the rest of the questions and just as Ms Nichols is assigning us homework for the day, there is a loud rapping on the door.
‘Come in,’ Ms Nichols says and the door swings open.
A woman in a blue tracksuit walks in, smiling hesitantly at Ms Nichols. ‘Hey, Olivia. I just wanted to make a quick announcement about try-outs, if that’s OK? I won’t take up too much of your time,’ she says.
‘Of course, go ahead.’ Ms Nichols turns back to the whiteboard to finish writing up the homework assignment.
The woman looks at us, her smile warm as she takes us in. ‘Hi, everyone. I’m Jen, I’m the sports teacher here and I’ll probably be seeing all of you for class pretty soon. There’s going to be try-outs for the girl’s football team next Thursday after school, and we’re always looking for new talent. So, I encourage all of you to come and show off your skills. I know there are already a couple of you whoseprevious schools have talked you up. Maya Alam?’ Jen turns to Maya, her smile widening.
Maya sits up straighter at the mention.
I groan inwardly – how is this girl already in with every single teacher at this school? She only has a twenty-minute head start on me.
‘Your old teacher told me about how great you were. Please do come to the try-outs, yeah? And that goes for the rest of you too. Hope to see you all there.’ With that, Jen turns back to Ms Nichols, mumbles another thank you and ducks out of the classroom.
Maya is grinning from ear to ear and the classroom bursts into a curious buzz. I can already see a few of the girls around Maya turning to her, no doubt asking about whether she will try out or not.
But I’m already tired of the Maya show. So if Maya is going to try out, then I definitely have to try out as well. And when I get in, I’ll outshine her on the football field too.
Chapter 6
Dina
‘And then she just handed me the invite, even though the wedding is only two weeks away. Can you believe that? Totally shameless.’ Ma shakes her head, like last-minute wedding invites are some kind of crime against humanity.
‘I thought you didn’t even like Maryam aunty,’ Deen says through a mouthful of rice. His words would be completely incomprehensible, but Ma and I are too used to him and can understand him even in the worst of circumstances. Still, Ma frowns at his ill-kept manners, though she doesn’t make a comment on it for now.
‘I just think your Maryam aunty has … a few faults.’ Ma begins to clear the table of the dishes, as a way to veer away from the topic of how much she actually dislikes Maryam aunty. The whole conversation about her eldest son’s wedding invite has definitely elicited a sour mood from our mother. At another point in time, she might use a wedding invite to try to cajole Deen and me aboutourromantic relationships, but Deen has been all hands on deck with the restaurant for the past three years with no room for romance, and I blew up my last serious relationship when I quit my job at the financial firm. She – Anu – was determined to believe that I was just having some sort of aquarter-life crisis, and refused to entertain it by supporting my decision to quit. So that was that.
It’s a good thing Ma was never a big fan of Anu anyway.
Deen gives me an encouraging glance from across the table, but I know now is not the time to start the conversation about football with Ma. Instead, I stand up quickly and start gathering up the dishes even faster than Ma can.
‘Deen and I can clean up,’ I offer.
Deen shoots me a glare, but quickly pastes on a smile when Ma looks from me to him.
‘I don’t mind,’ Ma says. ‘I like it when you both eat here.’ She says it as if Deen hasn’t been living with her for the past five years and doesn’t eat here every single day. Or that ever since I quit my job in the city, I haven’t come here twice a week for her cooking – which remains incomparable to anything else.
‘We’ve got it, Ma,’ I say. ‘You want some tea?’
Ma looks at me with a hint of suspicion, which makes me wonder if the offer of tea was a little bit too much. Deen and I have never been the kind of kids who pamper our parents. In fact, Deen has a long and storied track record of being the problem child who would require my parents to have meetings with the school principal every couple of months. It’s kind of a wonder that he grew up to be the person he is today.
