I would rather walk barefoot on hot coals than sit with Mason, but I don’t want to create more distance between Alexis and me. “Sure.”
Alexis rounds in front of me so she’s walking backward, and my lips twitch with a smile. “Why are you frowning? You know you look like a tortoise when you frown.”
I scrunch my nose, and she rolls her eyes.
“It’s just been a weird beginning,” I say.
“You’ll get the hang of it.”
I shrug a shoulder.
“Not even with Jamie ‘helping you’” she says with air quotes.
I groan. “Don’t start with that.”
“Why? You should have said you liked him!” She glances quickly toward Nicole, who is a ways ahead. “She’s a bit upset because Jamie never started any conversation with her, but you just got here, and now he has your phone number.”
My ears burn. “It’s not like that. I don’t like him. I don’tknowhim.”
She goes back to walking beside me. “Pfsh, what does that have to do with liking?”
I stay quiet. I don’t like this conversation. I’m here for one reason and one reason only. This is a means to an end. This is war for me. Hunker down until it’s over.
“Okay, fine. If you don’t like him, then you should tell Nicole.”
Why would I tell Nicole anything?I think.I do not care about Nicole.But my mouth says, “Sure.”
“Okay, stop it with the short answers.” She gives me a look. “I hate it when you do that. I feel like I’m in trouble or something.”
I take in a deep breath, let the warmth I felt from her head on my shoulder earlier spread through the void again and say, “I can’t wait to have lunch and go back to more classes that I only understand about twenty percent of!”
Alexis laughs. “That’s more like it.”
The cafeteria is full, and the delicious smell of the lunch makes my stomach rumble. I don’t have Amal’s cooking to soothe me today, soI packed myself two simple labneh and za’atar sandwiches, an apple, and a juice box.
“Oh, Mason is right there!” Alexis points to the far-left table. “Go, we’ll get our food and join you.”
It would be less painful to chop off my legs than walk up to what looks like the jocks’ table and sit, but Alexis pushes me forward.
I stumble toward them, and the rumbling in my stomach turns into something more acidic. I might throw up any second.
I hope they don’t notice me, but I might as well be an elephant crashing through. Being the only hijabi makes me a beacon here, and not in a good way.
I gingerly sit at the edge of the last seat with my bag in my lap. All five jocks simultaneously turn toward me.
“Oh, Jihad,” Mason says with an easy smile. “You’re having lunch with us?”
They each have their own huge plates filled to the brim with a steak, mashed potatoes, and baby carrots. I don’t remember the last time I had something like that. Amal cooks for us from time to time, and when I sleep over at her place, she feeds me well. But it’s been a while, and I try to limit my visits because she’s always working and exhausted.
“Yes,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
Mason and his friends nod at me, and we enter an awkward staring contest.
Mason leans forward. “I was wondering, how do you know Alexis?”
I hug my bag. “Childhood friends. We were neighbors.”
“Wait, you used to live on the Upper East Side?” he says in surprise, and his tone cuts.
