Page 83 of The Love Match

You’re not sure enough,he answers.

Ugh, this boy!

Perhaps I should be irritated by how easy he thinks this is, envious of how easy everything always seems to be for him, butI’ve seen what lies beneath his unruffled demeanor by now and know he’s far from perfect, with a far-from-perfect life. Just texting him has grounded me and eased some of my anxieties.

Okay, I’m going to check.

His response elicits an unbidden smile:Call me after?

Sucking in a deep breath and screwing my eyelids shut, I click Professor Liu’s email. When nothing leaps off the screen to bite my head off, I open one eye and skim her message.

Miss Khan:

Thank you for sharing your work with me. You are such a talented writer. You have a grasp of setting and character uncommon in writers your age, and I look forward to helping you further hone these skills. I’ve attached comments below, but I’d prefer to read the rest of the novel before giving you overarching feedback. Do you think you can send it to me before the semester starts and I get busy with my new students? Or at least an outline, so we can discuss weak links in your plot? Congratulations on an excellent start to your first draft. This book is going to be so special!

My jaw drops.

Rather than opening the attached document to read her in-line comments, I blast my angry-girl playlist of Billie Eilishand Olivia Rodrigo from my laptop speakers to give us some privacy and immediately call Harun, who picks up on the first ring.

“Am I dreaming?”

“Um,” comes his clever retort. “I guess it went well?”

“It was unreal!”

His smile practically radiates through the phone as I babble about Professor Liu’s praise, and suddenly I wish I’d FaceTimed him instead, if only to see it.

I’m not sure what this means for me, especially after what happened with the bride-zolad, but I do know I’m finally ready to stop standing in my own way.

For the first time in the years since I started it, I know how my book ends.

It’s impossible to write the number of words I need to finish the book in one sitting, so I split my time between outlining the rest of the plot in detail like Professor Liu suggested, and word-vomiting as much as I can of the new chapters into my Google Doc.

Day shifts to night outside.

When there are too many spots dancing in front of my vision to ignore any longer, I send the new outline and additional chapters to Professor Liu, shoot her an email, and trudge out of the kitchen, where I’ve been working to avoid disrupting Nanu’s peaceful slumber.

Despite my best efforts, she cracks open an eye as I tiptoeinto our bedroom, deposit my laptop on my desk, and scale the ladder to my bunk. “Bala asso nee, moyna?”

Are you okay?

For once, the answer feels like yes.

I whisper for her to go back to sleep. My now-charging laptop sits on the desk across from us, but I still have my phone. The temptation to check my email gnaws at me, though I already know Professor Liu won’t check it after midnight, so instead I text theotherperson I desperately want to hear from: Harun.

When can we see each other again?

He replies in just a few minutes, a boy after my own heart:Can you do tomorrow around 3-ish? There’s somewhere I’ve been wanting to take you.

I’m scheduled for work tomorrow, so I should turn him down. The old Zahra certainly would have. Hell, she would have avoidedanythingthat meant a smaller paycheck. But I’ve been that Zahra for such a long time, without getting anywhere for my efforts.

Harun wants to spend time with me. Take me somewhere lovely. I want that too, so I text the twins, asking them to cover for me at Chai Ho, before finally giving Harun my answer.

Yes!

If he says something after that, I’m not sure, because I nod off, smiling.

I wake up the next morning to a good-night text from Harun and an email from Professor Liu:I had a chance to read youroutline before my class. What an epic planned conclusion! Do you think you can stop by campus this morning so we can chat? My class finishes at ten.

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