SHAKING, AMIRA SAT on the edge of her bed.
Her mind was spinning. Her report—she should work on her project. After wiping away another tear, she sat at her desk and stared at her computer. She couldn’t concentrate.
She stood up again, pushing her heavy limbs that wanted to hold her in place, and stopped in the middle of her room. The house was so quiet. No one talking. No cheerful singing. Not even any arguing. Only the loud ticking of the damn clock on her wall. Amira pulled it down and yanked the batteries out of it.
She placed the clock heavily in the corner of her room, next to Duncan’s bag. The dark green duffel bag was open, showing her a peek of his worn blue jeans and one of his many flannel shirts. Duncan had moved his things into her room only yesterday, and already his stuff was strewn about as if it had always been here. His shaving kit in the bathroom, complete with cedar-scented beard oil. His plaid pyjama pants tossed on the chair. Even the guitar she loaned him was leaning up against the corner of the room. He had fiddled with it every day, sometimes singing softly while playing simple chords, other times letting his fingers glide effortlessly over the frets into complicated arrangements. Duncan was talented. She loved watching him play.
Amira packed his things into his bag and left them in the hallway, along with the guitar. She didn’t think it was necessary to tell him she didn’t want him sleeping in her room anymore.
Once her space was tidy, she stood in the middle of the room again. She needed something else to do. Something else to distract her from her thoughts. Her mind was racing in circles, a sharp stab of pain in her chest muddling everything.
Betrayed. That’s how she felt. Betrayed by the fucked-up world that had normalized bigotry. Her logic hadn’t left her—she understood that it wasn’t really Duncan’s fault that his brother and niece had hurt Zahra, but she still felt betrayed by him. She knew they came from different worlds, but it hadn’t occurred to her that Duncan’s world actively hated hers. He should have told her that. He should have told her that involving herself with him would mean constantly fighting against hate.
But one image wouldn’t leave her mind: the anguished look on Duncan’s face when she walked away from him. It was in sharp contrast to the man she had grown so close to. It wasn’t much of a consolation to know that he was probably hurting right now, too, but at least it confirmed that her feelings for him weren’t one-sided.
Another image popped into her head: the priceless look on his face when he’d tied himself up with his own suspenders last night. It was a mixture of pride, arousal, and mischief that was so quintessentially Duncan. No man had ever been willing to be so vulnerable with her. No one had ever understood what Amira wanted. Or needed. She had finally found someone who got her.
But no. He didn’t get her. He didn’t get why it hurt so much that her existence was nothing but a political issue to some people. And he didn’t get how important it was for her to shield her family, her little sister, from the realities of this world for as long as possible.
Sameer said to fight for the good—the best—relationship. Well, this was not something she could fight for. This was the big thing she couldn’t compromise on.
Amira’s text tone rang, startling her. It was Reena.
Reena
Can you take a break from your new man and meet me at the Sparrow? I want to hear about the fancy party.
Amira
There is no more new man. His family thinks we’re terrorists and made Zahra cry. I promised her a sleepover, I have to stay in.
Reena
Oh crap. You need me to bring my sleeping bag and join you?
Amira almost wrote back that, no, she was fine, she didn’t need her best friend’s comfort after the combustion of a relationship that was only days old, but her fingers stilled over her phone. The truth was, she was not fine. About Duncan, about her conversation earlier with Shelley, and about Sameer and Travis. And maybe there was nothing wrong with leaning on her friend when the universe seemed to be conspiring to shatter everything she cared about.
Amira
Yes. Please. I need you.
Finally, it was time to go upstairs for dinner. Amira packed a small bag of things since she had no intention of coming back downstairs until the barbershop quartet left her home. She couldn’t face any of them right now.
Duncan’s bag had been removed from the hallway, and she didn’t see anyone around. Good.
Dinner with her family felt strange. Zahra seemed to have snapped back from her earlier disappointment reasonably well. She didn’t mention Maddie at all and seemed excited that Amira was going to sleep in her room, but it was an act. Zahra’s enthusiasm was muted. Forced. It broke Amira’s heart all over again. Every time Zahra had to face these small fights, these little injustices, Amira’s spitfire sister would become just a little bit more muted, a little less herself. It was a tough pill to swallow. Amira hoped that the likes of Ryan Galahad wouldn’t dim her sister’s light any more than this.