Page 36 of You Had Me at Hello World
She takes two steps into our room and face-plants into her bed. Her topknot is frizzy and loose, as if she went for a five-mile jog in the Boston heat.
“Hi?” I say.
“Dead. Tired,” she mumbles into her pillow.
I feel a little bad talking to her about this when she’s exhausted, but I don’t want to wait until after the exam. There’s not that much time before the second checkpoint. “Uh, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yes, you do talk in your sleep,” she says. “Mostly about operating systems.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know that. I wonder if sleep-me is better at computer science than awake-me. If so, I might as well take a nap tomorrow during the test. “That’s… not what I wanted to ask about.”
She flips onto her back and eyes me. “What’s up?”
“I was…” God, why am I suddenly so itchy? I’m trying to ask something reasonable.The worst she can say is no, and that’s the same result as not asking at all. That’s the wisdom people like to parrot.
But it’s not the same result. If I don’t ask, I can live in the delusion that maybe things could’ve been different had I simply tried harder. And delusion is important for my self-esteem, thank you very much.
“I was wondering if I could join you and Khoi for the hackathon?”
“Oh!” She jerks upright, and the sudden movement forces her topknot to surrender its last bit of structural integrity. With her hair losing its fight to gravity, she looks even more disheveled and bewildered.
She’s about to say no. I can feel it.
“Stupid idea, forget it,” I say quickly.
“No, no. I’m flattered. But…” She bites her lip. “Char, I don’t think I should work with anyone. I’m not even going to team with Khoi.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve probably noticed that I’m gone a lot?”
“Maybe a little,” I fib, not wanting to call her out.
She steeples her hands. “Don’t tell anyone else this, okay?”
“Sure.” Lola used to ask me that. I was always flattered. It implied she thought I had other friends to gossip with.
“I’m doing a dance program at Harvard. That’s where I’ve been going. Khoi knows.”
I blink, digesting this new info. “Okay… so why bother being here at all?” She can’t be using our dorm as a crash pad. The mattresses are lumpy and there’s no air-conditioning. Plus, her family lives nearby.
“I’m at Alpha Fellows because my parents don’t approve of dance. They think it’s a waste of time. They want me to study computer science like my older brother.” She makes a face that reminds me of the squiggly mouth emoji. “Stupidly perfect Aditya. Mr. Valedictorian. Mr. Princeton. Mr. Google intern.”
“I’m sorry.” I can’t imagine what it’s like to have parents who care that much.
“But yeah, so I’d be utterly useless on a team. I’m going to do the bare minimum to get through this program so my parents are happy. You should still ask Khoi to team up, though. I know he really likes you.”
He really likes you.I try to keep my heart rate steady. She means as friends, obviously.
“Are you sure? He’s your boyfriend.”
“That’s…” Aisha seems to think hard about it. Then she shrugs. “That’s fine. It’s not like I’m around anyway.”
We brush our teeth in the bathroom. Aisha has this elaborate nighttime skincare routine comprising of gels and creams and serums. She offers me some of her snail slime, and I politely decline. Some things simply don’t belong on your face, no matter what TikTok says. Then HellomynameisBrenda yells for lights-out, so we go to bed.
As I lie in the dark, I wonder why I’m still anxious.
I should be relieved. Aisha didn’t say no, and I finally solved the mystery of her frequent disappearances. That explains why we saw her in Harvard Square the other day.
