Page 86 of The Love Match

She responds by pushing me toward the BMW like she can’t wait to get rid of me. I stagger into Harun, who catches me. The two of us peer at each other for a second, hearts thumping in time with one another, until Shaad wolf-whistles and we jerk away.

Glaring at his cousin, Harun opens the front passenger door and I step in. Shaad and Sammi duck into the backseat. We all tell Dalia goodbye and drive off. Once we’ve gone a few blocks, I examine my three companions. “Where are we going?”

“The balloon festival,” Harun says. “Have you been?”

“No… What do you do at a balloon festival?”

“If you don’t know, don’t Google it,” he replies with an endearingly serious expression. “I want to see your face when we get there.”

Oh, there’s that blush again.

“O-okay.” I flash him a timid smile, then glance over at Sammi and Shaad, who seem to be nitpicking each other’s outfit choices. “So, they’re actually coming?”

“Yes,” Sammi answers in Harun’s stead, prompting Shaad to groan as she presumably encroaches his personal space. “My darling baby brother is going away to school soon. Who knows when we’ll get to spend time with each other again? So I forced him to come with me.” I turn, bemused, in time to catch her wink. “But don’t worry, Zahra. The festival is big enough that we won’t be third-wheeling on your date with Haru-moni.”

“Kill me now,” Shaad grumbles, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

“Oh, hush,” his sister replies. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll get you funnel cake.”

His eyes narrow. “I can buy myownfunnel cake!”

I giggle as they devolve into more bickering. They remind me of how I am with Arif, except he’d appreciate me more if he ever saw the way Sammi babies her brother.

The balloon festival is in suburban Readington Township, a part of New Jersey I’ve never been to before despite living only an hour away, but we spend so much of that time on the highway that we don’t pass many impressive sights.

I’m still wondering what’s so special about it when we drive into the township, with its uniform white houses on bright green lawns. Sure, they’re cute, but I have a feeling very few people who look like us live here. Before I can make this crack to Harun, however, I seethem. Bright, colorful specks dot thesky, the closer we get to the airport hosting the festival.

“Are those—”

“Hot-air balloons,” Harun says.

Dozens of teardrop shapes in every color and pattern available float amid the clouds, above the rolling fields of green on which the Solberg Airport buildings are located. Most of the space is occupied by various stages and vendors, carnival rides, circus tents, and petting zoos. All remaining areas harbor grounded balloons and visiting families.

A giant banner proclaims the name of the festival, but there are other endorsements as well: a quote from the governor calling it one of New Jersey’s best events, the American Bus Association dubbing it one of the greatest festivals in North America.

An old white ticket taker reads the tickets Harun hands her, squints between them and us, then finally says, “Two VIP tickets and two general? VIP flights are soon. Enjoy!”

Sammi snatches the two stubs withGENERALstamped across them from her cousin, then drags her brother away, calling over her shoulder, “You two kids have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” then smacks Shaad’s arm when he audibly adds, “That’s not exactly much.”

Harun pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry about them.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m just glad we could see each other again today. I didn’t think you’d planned something so big, though. VIP tickets?”

“Sammi Afa foisted them on me, actually,” he replies. “Repayment for extorting her way onto this trip. Hope this is okay? I know you were kinda jittery on the bridge, but you don’t have a fear of heights, do you?”

I eye him. “I’m starting to think you taking me to all these lofty places is an excuse to get me to cling to you.”

“My master plan is working?” he asks with a grin.

I pretend to consider this, then shrug. “Maybe.”

“Good.” His fingertips extend to brush mine. “Because I’d love to hear what happened with that professor.”

Feeling bold, I take his swinging hand and hold it the entire time we make our way through the maze of stalls and rides.

“It was great!”

His brows arch as I explain exactly what went down at the community college. “Zar, that’s amazing!Youare amazing!”

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