He’s saving enough for both his parents to retire. His mother won’t stop working unless his father does, too. The retirement plan includes all their monthly expenses including luxuries, health insurance to supplement Alberta’s health care, yearly vacations and visits abroad to see family, and a trade up from their house to a condo. A good life. If he stays on track at the company, he’ll have enough in ten years. He’ll be close to forty. His mother, sixty-five. He traces a finger to the top of the line graph, 2008. That’s when he’ll get out. Like a prison sentence. But he knows he can do it. He has to. Then, he’ll finally be free to do whatever he wants.

Al-Karim asked Ashif if he wanted to go to the Ismaili career fair with him. He didn’t. Al-Karim said, neither did he. But he reminded him of the real reason they should go: hot girls.

Al-Karim was a visa student from Nairobi studying Hotel and Restaurant Management at a local college. He was a star athlete and voted MVP at the Ismaili Triangular Games the last three years running. The girls loved him and the guys admired him, too. Ashif was fifteen but had never kissed a girl, never even held a girl’s hand yet. He was too skinny, too shy. Not the kind of guy girls noticed.

“Good, take him,” his mother said to Al-Karim. She approved of any Ismaili event he wanted to go to and anything with Al-Karim. He had a beat-up old Datsun and helped her with their errands—grocery shopping, fixing things around the house, rides to jamatkhana. Ashif was still a year away from getting his driver’s licence and even if he had it, it wouldn’t do any good. The family car was with his father in Rocky Mountain House. He’d moved there over three years ago to take care of the family business, a gas station and convenience store. He only came home on Sundays for dinner. But it was never enough time and Ashif missed him constantly.

The career fair was packed, mostly with teenagers. Booths circled the gymnasium showcasing careers like medicine, engineering, law, business, and teacher education. At the registration desk, students could sign up for tutorial help or workshops like “The Art of Building Your Resumé.”

Al-Karim pointed to the tutorial list, “Arzeen Dawood, chemistry, biology, calculus.” “You know her, right?”

Ashif nodded. Of course he knew her. Everyone knew Arzeen. She had huge doe eyes and perfectly straight hair dyed caramel-blonde. She was beautiful. Not that Arzeen had any idea who he was. Why would she?

That’s when Al-Karim revealed his plot. He needed Ashif to keep her little sister, Shafina, company while he took Arzeen for a drive. “Her old man will have my head if he finds out.”

Ashif agreed even though he was nervous. He had a hard time speaking to people, let alone a beautiful girl. But he didn’t want to lose his chance to meet Arzeen’s sister. He reminded himself of his father’s advice about meeting new people. Make a joke, smile, people always like a friendly face.