Page 37 of If I Loved You Less
“And not to toot my own horn, but it’s going to be amazing. I will be living vicariously through you.”
“It could be you soon,” I say to Zahra. “Any romance in your life?” (If you couldn’t tell already, I love a good gossip.)
Zahra laughs. “No, nothing interesting going on in my life.”
“What about that guy who works at the restaurant with you?” I ask. “I feel like you always have funny stories about him to tell.”
“Yaseen? What? No, no, no, he’s just my coworker! Friend, if anything.”
“Sheisalways talking about him!” Haya says, voice vindicated. She turns to Zahra. “See, I told you so.”
Zahra’s jaw drops. “I am not! And even if I am, it’s because I see him, like, every day.”
“She’s always giggling,” Haya tells me.
“That’s because he’s objectively funny!”
Zahra is giggling even now. Interesting.
We chat a little more, then I leave the best friends to go attend to Shanzay, though Emad and Rizwan have been very attentive toward her. Emad makes room for me on the couch, and I squeeze in beside Shanzay, bumping her shoulder with mine. We share smiles.
Fawad must truly be in a mood, for he sits on the side, a sullen expression across his face. I wonder if his parents called; he is usually in a mood after that...
“Humaira, you’re such an excellent baker,” Rizwan says. “I am sorry to have missed your pies from Thanksgiving.”
“Ugh, those were so good,” Emad agrees. “You should open a catering company, Humaira, you would literally make a fortune.”
“Aw, thanks,” I reply. “You know, Shanzay is my protege, and I have been teaching her some of my recipes.”
“I am not half as good as you are,” Shanzay says, voice high.
“No you are!” I respond. “She is,” I tell the boys. “She loves baking. She’s so good at it, too!”
Shanzay gives me a funny look. “I don't reallylovebaking...” But her voice is low, so I do not quite hear her.
Besides, the effect on the boys is immediate: they look impressed.
“With Humaira as a teacher, I’m sure your desserts are just as good,” Emad says to Shanzay, eyes warm. She smiles.
We continue chatting, Emad and Rizwan both talking about their work in very grand terms, clearly trying to impress us and outdo one another. I loop my arm through Shanzay’s and lean against her. She leans back, the both of us pleased with our crushes’ notice.
After a little while, I take out my mini polaroid camera and hand it to Rizwan. “Will you take a picture of me and Shan?” I ask sweetly.
“Of course,” he replies. We angle together, and I see Emad looking at us intently, just as I hoped he would.
“Emad, why don’t you join in, as well?” I say.
“Sure!” he replies, too enthusiastic to hide it. He comes to sit beside me, but I shift so there isn’t much room, and point to Shanzay’s side. She elbows me as he comes to sit beside her.
“Ready?” Rizwan asks.
“How do we look?” I ask, adjusting my hijab.
“Perfect,” he replies, but he’s looking at me.
“Three ... two…”
As he snaps the picture, I shift to be half out of frame, and when it prints, I see I have been mostly successful. You can only see the corner of my smile; the main focus is all on Shanzay and Emad.
