Page 88 of The Love Match

“Hey!”

Soft lips slotting against mine cut any complaints short, tasting of wintergreen mint and cocoa-butter ChapStick. My arms flail in the air in shock, before I regain enough sense to lean into him, lifting up my palms to cradle his cheeks, keeping his glasses from falling off.

His face is warm from the blush that spreads through us both like a sip of hot tea. I wonder if he likes the strawberry flavor of my own gloss.

His breath tickles my lips when he pulls away just enough to say, “I love you, too, Zahra.”

“Y-you do?” I ask.

Now a chuckle ruffles the errant strands that escape my ponytail. “I think I’ve been falling for you for a long time. Maybe before karaoke?”

“Youhave?” I groan into the crook of his neck.

His eyes have darkened with emotion that sends a thrill through me when I gaze back up. This time, I stand on my tiptoes to meet him halfway the instant his lips begin to descend toward mine. We pull apart only when we’re bothbreathless and giddy. His glasses are foggy and skewed, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he leans his forehead against mine and asks, “What does this mean? Do we…”

He trails off, but I know exactly what he’s wondering.

Does dating again mean a wedding for us on the horizon like it usually does for people? Like our parents expect of us? Doeshewant that? What do we tell them?

“I care about you more than I know what to do with,” I say at last, “but we’re so young.”

Harun lets out a sigh of relief. “Yeah. What’s the rush? We can go back to our parents and tell them we want to keep trying. I don’t even mind having an annoying chaperone along for the rest of our lives, if it means I can be with you.”

“Then you must really like me,” I say with a smirk.

“We’ve already established that.” His forehead scrunches against mine, and his frown is so cute, I have no choice but to peck it away. He lets me, then pulls away, ignoring my growled objection. “I think I’m going to tell our parents that I want to keep seeing you but will consider marriage only after we’ve graduated from college.Bothof us.”

He looks at me intently.

It takes me a moment to grasp his words, but when I do, my eyes overflow with tears and I throw myself back into his embrace. Ifhesays that and Amma wants us to be happy together, she’llhaveto be okay with college.

“Thank you, Harun.”

A gust of wind makes the basket sway from side to side. Recalling that we’re thousands of feet in the air, I cling to Harun again, taking care not to budge another inch until we land. He holds me the whole time.

I feel at home, tucked safely in his arms.

And if we have to wait, if we have to endure an endless parade of chaperones and rules and rumors, if we have to fight for it, so be it.

If this is true love, it just might be worth it.

Chapter31

Once upon a time, Ammacould take one look and diagnose exactly what was the matter with me. She would know I was sick before I did, and tut, with the cool back of her wrist pressed to my forehead, “Na, na, na, na, shuna, you should stay in bed. I’ll bring the Vicks, khisuri, and some rong saa to fix you right up.”

Or she’d ask, “Zahra, shuna, keetha oise?” the instant I came from school, already knowing I’d fought with a friend or someone had been mean to me, which would prompt me to burst into tears and blubber into the material of her kameez while she rubbed my back.

But that was before Baba died, before we acquired so many troubles that it was no longer simple to keep track of them all. She stilltries, but I’ve gotten better at hiding things for both our sakes. My siblings, who are younger, need more of her time anyway.

Tonight, however, she seems to sense a disturbance inthe force the instant I step into the apartment. She looks me up and down, like kissing Harun has changed something fundamental about me. “Furthi khorso nee?”

“Yes, I had fun. I’m happy!” I plunk down next to her on the couch, almost causing her to drop the needle she’s threading when the cushion bounces. “I have a special surprise for you.”

She sets her sewing equipment aside, like she doesn’t want anything pointy and dangerous in her grasp when she hears this. “A… surprise?”

“A special one,” I emphasize, mimicking what she told me at Chai Ho that first time I met Harun. “All you have to do is make sure everyone’s dressed for a night out Saturday. I’ll take care of everything else. Okay?”

“Saturday?” She tenses up. “I—I can’t this weekend. I’m sorry.”

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