Laleh curled her legs under her and let me sit on her bed. She had one of those huge pillows with armrests built into it, soft pink with a purple fringe on top. It was dented in the middle from all the hours she’d spent sitting against it reading.
I handed her a tasting cup—a ceramic one emblazoned with the Rose City logo—and tilted my head to look at the spine of her book.
“The Shining?” I asked. “Is it good?”
“It’s okay.”
“Scary?”
“Nah.”
Laleh blew on her tea and took a sip. I took a bigger slurp from my own cup.
“Hmm,” Laleh said. She smacked her lips. “It’s sweet.”
“It’s got notes of honey,” I said. “And milk too. But I didn’t put any sugar in it.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
Laleh took another sip. “It’s okay. Not as good as Persian tea.”
“Noted.” We sat together, enjoying our tea.
Then I said, “Is school any better?”
Laleh shrugged.
“Are Micah and Emily treating you better?”
Laleh shook her head.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t okay.
“Have you talked to your teacher?”
“No.” She sighed. “Emily’s her favorite. She never gets in trouble.”
“Oh.”
I wanted to build a force field around my sister, to shield her from Micah and Emily and her teacher and all the other Soulless Minions of Orthodoxy lurking in her future.
I hated how helpless I was.
“Is there something I can do?”
Laleh shook her head again, and then turned back to her book, like she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
I leaned over and kissed the crown of her head.
“Love you, Laleh,” I whispered into her hair.
It was nearly nine o’clock when the garage door finally rumbled. Everyone else was in bed, but I was sitting in the kitchen, icing myself again.
