I didn’t know how to deal with it.
“Darius? Hey.”
There was one other Iranian at Chapel Hill High School: Javaneh Esfahani.
She was a senior, and now that we didn’t eat lunch together, I barely ever saw her. She was in AP classes during the day, and busy with Associated Student Body after school.
Javaneh wore a sleek black dress with a red blouse over it and a dark red headscarf. She had on new glasses too, cat-eye ones with green highlights on the frames.
“Oh. Hey.”
“You look like you could use a hug.”
“I guess so.”
Javaneh snorted and pulled me in.
I couldn’t remember ever hugging her before. She felt warm and comfortable, like your blankets when you first wake up in those late fall days before you turn the heat on, and you can’t imagine ever getting out of bed because you know the floors are going to be cold.
“How’re you doing?”
“Okay. Trying to keep it together for my mom.”
She nodded. “When my grandmother passed away, my dad had a really hard time too.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah. I still miss her sometimes.”
I sniffed. Javaneh pulled a couple Kleenexes out of her huge black purse.
She was still in high school, but she already had the voluminous purse of a True Persian Woman, the kind that opened into an alternate dimension.
“Thanks.”
“Sure.” She looked behind me. “I think someone is here for you.”
“Oh?” I turned to find Landon standing in the doorway. He was dressed all the way up, in a dark suit with a white shirt and gray tie.
He looked impeccable.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” he said, and wrapped me in a hug. I melted into him.
We didn’t kiss, though. I think maybe he was trying to figure out what the rules were, surrounded by a bunch of Iranian strangers.
Maybe he was.
Maybe I was too.
When we pulled apart, I said, “Javaneh, this is my boyfriend. Landon.”
Javaneh beamed and offered her hand.
“Javaneh Esfahani. I go to school with Darius.”
Landon’s shoulders relaxed as he took her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
