Dina finally turns to me. ‘You really think that’s helpful? And I’m not nervous. I didn’t even say it was my first time flying.’
‘I’m just trying to help.’
‘Well, don’t.’
I huff, crossing my arms over my chest as the plane turns into the runway and slowly starts picking up speed. It’s not a big plane, which means that I can feel the rumble of the engine alongside my own heartbeat. Beside me, Dina closes her eyes, and I can sense her breathing becoming shallower. She’s definitely not doing a very good job of pretending not to be nervous.
I study her closed eyes, the shallowness of her breath. This is maybe the only time I’ve seen her actually look vulnerable. Like for this one moment in time, she’s let some of her walls down. Looking at her like this, my heart seems to still. I haven’t quite admitted it to myself before, but when Dina isn’t scowling at me and trying to beat me at anything and everything, she’s really quite beautiful.
Gently, I place my hand over hers, fitting my fingers into the gaps in hers. Her eyes fly open, but I turn away beforeshe can look at me. I fully expect that she’ll pull away from me, grumbling about how she can take care of herself. But she doesn’t. Our hands stay like that as the flight takes off and the ground gives way from underneath us. My stomach lurches, and I’m not sure if it’s because of Dina squeezing my hands with hers, or because of the plane taking off.
‘How come you’re always late to class?’
‘What?’ Dina asks through gritted teeth.
‘If you talk, it’ll make the flying easier.’
‘Thisis what you want to talk about?’
I shrug. ‘I’m just curious.’
Dina glances out of the window, seems a little terrified to see a tiny, sprawling London underneath and quickly turns away. She takes a deep breath.
‘My dad, he works all the time.’
‘What?’ I don’t know if that’s just information she’s offering to change the subject. Because that’s what it feels like.
‘He has a restaurant. It’s open until late, and he’s there even later. It’s not doing so well, I don’t think, so he’s stressed about that and he’s tired in the mornings. It’s difficult to get him up and drive me to school. So I’m late sometimes,’ Dina explains.
‘What about your mum?’
‘What about her?’ Dina frowns.
‘Can’t she drive you?’
Dina shakes her head. ‘She works a lot. She’s a nurse, she’s always doing night shifts and double shifts, and then she comes home and helps with the restaurant in whatever capacity she can. She’s even more tired than my dad most of the time.’
Dina glances at me with a flicker of worry in her eyes, like she’s afraid she’s revealed a little too much of herself.But I’m finally starting to understand Dina, for the first time since we met. All this time, I thought she was someone who just got away with stuff that the rest of us would never be able to. That she had everything come easy to her. In reality, it’s the exact opposite. She’s just good at hiding her insecurities. Really good at it.
‘I like the food at your dad’s restaurant.’
Dina raises an eyebrow. ‘You’ve had food there?’
‘My parents have ordered from there a couple of times.’ I shrug. ‘And they’ve even invited your parents around for dawats, they said. But your parents say they’re always busy.’ After the first couple of times they turned down the invite, Ma and Baba started complaining about how Dina’s mum and dad must think they’re too good for us, since they never wanted to come around and they never invited us around either. Dawats are a big part of Bengali culture, and turning down so many invites is definitely a huge social faux pas.
‘I mean … theyarealways busy,’ Dina says, a little defensively.
‘I didn’t know that. My parents didn’t either. Your mum and dad just say they’re busy, they don’t explain any of the other stuff.’
‘What are they supposed to say? That they have to work 24/7 to make ends meet?’ Dina snaps.
I slink back in my seat, not quite wanting to look Dina in the eyes. All this time, I really thought she believed she was above the rest of us. In reality, she was just trying to get by.
‘No … sorry. We just didn’t know.’
Silence washes over us for a few minutes. Even through the rumbling of the plane, and the sounds of all the people around us, the silence between the two of us feels heavy.
‘You can get a lift with us sometime if you want,’ I finally offer.
