“I am not ignoring her,” I say. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Samir’s words about having a crush keep looping through my head, and I stand suddenly, making for him. He never thinks before speaking.

His eyes widen and he skitters away, toward the stairs. I move to follow him when Dadu says, “Myra.”

I pause, looking back at her. “Yes?”

She’s watching me with a small smile. “Can you grab me a sweater? I’m feeling cold.”

I slump in sudden relief, which probably paints me as even guiltier. “Of course,” I say and hurry to get it for her.

On my way, I knock on Samir’s door. He opens it a crack, peering at me through the small gap. “What?”

“Don’t do that,” I say, my skin crawling as I meet his eyes. Samir often forgets that we have different consequences for our actions. It’s insufferable and anxiety inducing. “You’re going to get me in trouble. I don’t have a crush on anyone.”

He raises his brows. “I was just joking,” he says, opening the door wider. There are faint noises in the background, his laptop open to some video game streaming app. “It’s not a big deal. Dadu doesn’t care.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I know, but just—don’t, okay? I don’t have a crush on anyone. Don’t bring up that kind of stuff at home. Promise me you won’t.”

Samir holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “All right, all right. Relax. I promise I won’t bring it up.”

The stiffness in my frame eases. “Thanks.”

He shrugs but falters. Another awful grin spreads across his face. He pokes my side, asking, “You’re being pretty defensive. Do you have a crush on someone? You said you were tutoring that dude, right? What was his name again?”

I smack his hand away, even as my heart skips a beat. At least this proves Samir didn’t even care enough to remember Ace’s name. “No. He’s just a classmate. And didn’t I just say not to bring that up at home? Don’t you have homework to do?”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop now,” my brother says and snorts at the irritated expression on my face. “I’m already done, by the way. Maybe you should go do yours.”

He shuts the door in my face before I can flip him off. I grumble under my breath, but my heart feels a little more at ease knowing he won’t say anything like that again. I grab a sweater from Dadu’s room and head back downstairs to the dining room.

On my way, I pause in the living room at the sight of my phone, which is playing a Top 40 playlist from Spotify on the speakers. I pick it up unthinkingly and search for a classical music playlist.