“It’s what you deserve!” I say, beaming. Her cheeks are flushed with fervor, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m so, so happy for you, Ro. Really.”

“Thank you,” Rosie says, her smile nearly splitting her face in half. “I can’t wait to freak out with you when you get accepted to USC.”

But looking at Rosie, seeing how excited and happy she is, I don’t know if we’d be freaking out the same way. I don’t know if USC is the future I want anymore.

“Yeah, me either,” I say anyway, smiling thinly. “Did you tell your parents yet?”

Rosie’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. “Oh my God, no, I still have to tell Mom. I was with Dad and his girlfriend when I got the email, so they know, but I wanted to call you first. Mom’s gonna kill me if Dad tells her before I do, though. I gotta go, talk later, okay? Love you!”

“Love you! Congrats again!” I say, waving as Rosie hangs up. Her face disappears, leaving behind only the NYU email notification on my phone.

I take a deep breath, bracing myself. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.

I slide my thumb across the screen, opening the email.

Dear Samina,

On behalf of the admissions committee, it is my honor to share with you that you have been admitted to the Tisch School of the Arts at New York University. Congratulations! I could not be more excited to welcome you to NYU.

I stare at my email in disbelief, and a tremor runs through me. I—I hadn’t even really thought about whether I’d be accepted or not, but now that I have been, a decision lies ahead of me.

California or New York City?

I don’t know the answer.

52

For hours, I pace in my room. I haven’t even gotten a decision from USC yet, but that doesn’t change that my head feels like static.

New York or California?

California or New York?

Even though I know I don’t want to let go of New York City entirely, that California doesn’t mean immediate happiness—I still don’t know what my decision is. I’ve spent so long focusing on USC and it’s the best film school in the country. Am I ready to let go of that?

Home is where you find love.

I run my fingers through my hair, loose for once. The way Emmitt likes it.

“Apu!” Anam calls from her room, and I look up at my open doorway. “Come here for a minute.”