Page 47 of The Love Match

“You have a novel?” Her eyes go round, and now she sounds excited.

My cheeks flush. “It’s a work in progress. An incomplete first draft. No biggie.”

“My dear,” she replies, “we areallworks in progress. I’m sorry to hear you can’t attend in the fall. It’s been ages since I had such a driven young writer in my ranks.”

“I’m sorry too,” I murmur. “But Iwillbe back. I know it.”

For once, I genuinely believe it.

Once the summer goes by and Harun and I “break up,” I can take on more hours, save up again, get a second job if I must. By the time I need to start working less to attend school, we’ll have enough. We will.

Then I can take Professor Liu’s class.

“I know you will,” she says. “Until then, would you be willing to let me read any of your work? I’m off for a few weeks and have time to offer constructive feedback.”

My head jerks up. “Really? You’d do that, even though I’m not your student?”

“Youwillbe,” she replies, “so of course I would.”

Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull out my laptop and share a copy of my manuscript with her on Google Docs, rambling all the while. “I’m super sorry in advance if there are lots of typos and plot holes. My feelings won’t be hurt if you end up not finishing. I once tried and failed to finishThe Hobbitfour times before deciding it just wasn’t for me,notthat you have to suffer through my writing four times or anything, once is more than enough, and I’m no—”

A hand closing my laptop interrupts my babbling. I glance up to find Professor Liu grinning from ear to ear. “You truly are a writer, Miss Khan. I’ll be in touch.”

The words are at once dismissal and reassurance.

I skip out of her classroom and down the hall with a renewed pep in my step, feeling for the first time in a very long time—perhaps evenever—that my dream to be a writer someday isn’t out of the question.

Perhaps it’s time for this work in progress to become a final draft.

Chapter17

I toss and turn allof Monday night. By the next morning, I have the seeds of a plan.

Oh hoh, do I have a plan! And it happens to be named after a common Bengali expression following an epiphany or the realization that you’ve made a big mistake: OH HOH!

It’s a classic foil for Operation Zahrun. Ifthat’ssupposed to make Amma think Harun and I are incompatible, Operation Head over Heels—or OH HOH—will hopefully help her realize thatNayimis my perfect match.

If she simply meets him, perhaps she’ll be swept off her feet by his irresistible charm like the rest of the aunties who visit the tea shop, and by Eid, we can all laugh together.

A girl can dream, right?

Because lately, all my dreams have started to feel possible.

On Wednesday, I roll out of bed before my alarm rings.

It’s so early, I’m able to corner the Tahir twins at Chai Howithout their dad present and fill them in on the specifics of my intrepid plan for the evening. As they have another of their psychic conversations, I squirm from foot to foot, wringing my hands.

“Do you think I should just leave well enough alone with Nayim?”

“No!” they exclaim simultaneously, startling me with their assurance.

Dani heaves a sigh. “Look, Zar, you’ve gotta be selfish every once in a while, especially when it comes to something like falling in love.”

Her voice goes whisper-soft, her eyes uncharacteristically serious, and God, I could just smack myself.

When Dani first came out to us, she was so scared we wouldn’t accept her and Ximena. Then Dalia burst into tears and hugged them, and I joined in, and soon we were a desperate tangle of blubbering preteen limbs rolling around the floor of Ximena’s bedroom until Mrs. Mondesir-Martínez found us all, wiped our snotty faces, and made us chocolate de maní to sip.

That was the easy part.

---