Page 32

Of course, I don’t do anything when I get into my apartment except analyze and replay that perfect, breath-stealing, toe-curling kiss on my balcony. I can’t even believe it.

Miles kissed me .

And it was amazing. Seriously like a once-in-a-lifetime kiss. And the way his adorable awkwardness just melted away the moment his hands were on my face… Wow. Miles Desai has surprised me before, but never as much as when his kiss deepened.

But as much as I want to luxuriate in those sensations all night, my mind starts overthinking.

Is the reason he doesn’t want me to set him up anymore because he wants to keep kissing me?

And what’s supposed to happen now? Are we going to talk about the kiss?

Are we going to carry on like it never happened?

By the time I shower and put on my pajamas, I’m still turning all the questions I have in my head over.

I’ve never been in a situation like this—I’m usually confident and know exactly what to do or say when I’m into someone.

Or when I’m trying to figure out if they’re into me.

But everything with Miles feels different.

I feel… a little bit lost, a lot confused, and completely out of my element when it comes to Miles Desai.

But still. I’m Sana Merali. The extrovert. Talking to people—even people I’m really into, isn’t supposed to be hard for me. I pick up my phone and call him.

“Question for you,” I ask as soon as he picks up. “Did you remember what you were going to say to me on my balcony?”

“Um, yeah. I was going to tell you to pretend it was still your prom night, because that’s how I should have ended our date. To make it more memorable for you.”

“Oh.” I pause. “That would have been a great thing to say. Why did you kiss me?”

“You’re not mad, are you?” He sounds unsure and awkward again.

“Not even a little bit. I’m definitely not going to forget my prom now.”

“Is that a good thing?” he asks. I wish he were here with me so I could see if there was a tiny smile on his lips.

“It depends. Was that a pity kiss because I didn’t have a prom date, or did you mean the kiss?”

“Have you ever known me to do or say something I don’t mean?”

“No… but I think I still need you to answer the question.”

His voice lowers. “I meant it, Sana.”

And goose bumps erupt all over me again. “Okay. That’s good. I meant it too.”

“That’s good,” he repeats. Now I can hear the smile in his voice.

“So what happens now?” I ask. “Can I see you tomorrow night?”

“Yeah. Oh wait, shoot, I can’t. I’m free earlier, though. Lunch?”

“I’m having brunch with my dad. Monday?”

“Yes. Monday. Great. Call me when you’re back from school.”

“Great. Will do. See you then.”

“Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

I try to say something other than great. “Good,” I say, then giggle. “I should go to bed.”

“Okay. Good night, Sana,” he says.

“Good night, Miles.” I disconnect the call before we start saying great again.

After getting ready for bed, I pick up my phone again and fire off a quick text.

Sana: Sleep well

Miles: You too

I have brunch with Dad and Noureen the next day. I kind of want to bail on them, but after last night, I don’t think even Noureen could bring my mood down.

Noureen seems to be off her “brunches from around the world” kick and, weirdly, picks a restaurant near my place—only about a twenty-minute walk away, instead of near theirs.

The place is called Dive, and it’s the newest location of a chain of so-called dive bars.

But they’re not really dive bars, just hipster places masquerading as dive bars.

I went to one downtown with some school friends once, and I wasn’t impressed.

When I walk in, I see that this location looks identical to the downtown one.

Which… I mean, isn’t the point of dive bars to be that they’re one of a kind?

I find Dad and Noureen sitting next to each other at a four-person table near the front. After Dad gives me a kiss on the cheek and Noureen hugs me, I sit. I’m surprised Sarina isn’t here. I’m about to ask where she is, when Noureen starts talking.

“My friend Farida told me about this place.” Noureen is smiling wide. “I’m so happy this area is getting better dining options. Sarina is excited to try it too! She’s on her way. Your little neighborhood is really improving, Sana! Look, they have turkey bacon! And chicken sausages!”

It’s sometimes hard to find non-pork breakfast options, which we need since we’re Muslim.

But I don’t think the fact that this chain restaurant has turkey bacon means that the area is getting “better.” I mean, there are plenty of vegetarian and vegan places around here.

Hell, there’s a halal Chinese hole-in-the-wall spot in Chinatown East that has the best vegetarian mapo tofu in the world.

But Noureen would never set foot in a place like that. I look at Dive’s menu. The only vegetarian selections are sweet. Pancakes, waffles, and French toast. No wait, the French toast comes with meat on the side.

After I order blueberry pancakes and a green tea, Dad and Noureen start with the usual questions.

How’s school going? Am I still set on the digital arts program, or am I considering transferring to a “normal” university?

How are my final grades? They don’t ask how Mom is, how my prom went, or how my job at Cosmic is going.

They do ask again if I want to work in Dad’s office over the summer.

I don’t understand why we have to do this every two weeks.

We could easily cut and paste this conversation into an automated email.

“Have you thought again about living with us in September?” Dad asks. I cringe, thankfully hidden behind the server as they set our plates down. Dad and Noureen ooh and ahh over the turkey sausage hash and salmon omelet they ordered, before Dad casts an expectant look back to me.

I shake my head, steeling myself. “I want to stay on Love Street. Mom may need me at the flower shop, and it’s so much closer to school.”

Noureen gives me her I’m judging you face. “Your mother takes advantage of you—making you work in her store for free. You cannot work there and at the thrift store when you start college. You need to keep your priorities straight.”

I don’t even bother correcting her that it’s a vintage store, not a thrift store.

“I have my priorities straight. I would think you’d agree that helping family is a good thing to prioritize.

” I take a bite of my pancakes. And… they’re dry.

They look way better than they taste. Typical for these brunches.

Dad sighs. “Sana, we’re only trying to help. You’re always so combative when we talk.”

I don’t say anything to that, mostly because I agree with him. Sometimes I feel like a completely different person when I’m with Dad and Noureen. Honestly, it’s not a person I like much. I take a breath, mentally preparing myself to smile and attempt an apology.

“You have to understand that we have more experience in the world,” Dad continues. “We’re trying to use that experience to lighten your load—”

“Sarina! You made it!” Noureen says, interrupting my father.

I turn, and yes, it’s Sarina. She looks effortlessly gorgeous, of course. She’s in wide white jeans and a flowered button-up shirt. She’s freaking glowing . And not limping at all.

“Hey, yeah, sorry I’m late,” Sarina says as she sits next to me. “I spent the night at a friend’s in the city since we had book club last night. Hey, Sana! You look amazing!”

I’m in jeans and a nineties Dad sweater. I definitely don’t look my best. Sarina starts telling her mother all about her friend’s get-together in the city the night before. She seems… much more animated than usual. Where is my serene stepsister?

She’s being so nice that I feel kind of bad that we haven’t talked since I texted her the morning after that day at High Park.

I was so jealous of her and Miles then, even though I was the one who set them up.

And up until yesterday, I’d wondered if maybe they were…

maybe not dating, but at least talking since their shared car back to Vaughan.

But Miles kissing me last night kind of squashed that theory. “How’s your foot?” I ask.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” she says. “Hurt for a few days, then was fine. Thanks to Cara for telling me to ice it right away. I have to thank you again for inviting me to High Park. Even if I got hurt, it was so great to hang out with you all.”

Maybe it’s because she mentioned Cara, but I suddenly realize that I’ve seen that floral shirt she’s wearing.

It’s from Cosmic. Or, we had one just like it there, at least. I’d almost bought it myself because the flowers looked like cherry blossoms, but since I already had a cherry blossom dress, I decided not to.

She must have bought it that day Cara was helping her.

With Sarina here, the topic of why I won’t move in with them is dropped. Instead, they talk about the economics summer class Sarina’s taking, and I take that as my cue to tune them out. But eventually the conversation comes back to our trip to High Park last weekend.

“Sana’s friends are so cool,” Sarina tells her mom. “Ajit and Julie are the sweetest! They own this cute little café that’s gone viral on Instagram. And, Sana, you were totally right—Miles is amazing! He’s so smart!”

I smile. “Yeah, Miles is great.”

Dad nods. “It’s a shame he couldn’t come to dinner on Friday. We must reschedule.” Sarina nods in agreement, like she knows exactly what he’s talking about

Wait, what? Miles was supposed to go to my dad’s for dinner? He never mentioned that… He did say that he originally had plans on prom night, but he didn’t say those plans were to go to my father’s house . Why wouldn’t he tell me that?

There must be a good reason Miles didn’t tell me. I’m about to ask Sarina why Miles was joining them for dinner when she gets a text. She looks at her phone with a small smile.

“Good news?” Noureen asks.