Priti watches her for a moment before shaking her head. “I’m fine. I’m …” she pauses, looking up at me with wide eyes. “The henna tubes. Did you get them? I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry about that,” I cut her off. Priti obviously has bigger things to worry about, and here I was getting her involved in something that could potentially get her into trouble. I should never have asked her to help me. “Come on, let’s go get some food, yeah?”

I take her hand in mine and begin to lead her toward her locker, where I know she has stuffed away her lunch box.

Priti sniffles, wiping away the last of her tears with the hand that I’m not holding. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice comes out a lot more definitive than just a moment ago.

“Okay,” I say. “We don’t have to talk. Just … the food?”

She nods, and the two of us settle into a corner of the hallway, lunch boxes open. I try to ignore the pang of guilt in my stomach from forgetting about Priti’s problems with Ali because of what happened to me. For putting her at risk, when I should have known better. The henna competition is important, and I want to beat Flávia and Chyna. But the cost of it can’t be my sister.

22

MS. MONTGOMERY FINDS ME FIRST THING THE NEXT morning, before I’ve even had the chance to go to my locker. My stomach drops at the sight of her because for a moment I’m afraid that Flávia and Chyna decided to report me after all. Priti awkwardly hovers beside me, clearly trying to eavesdrop on the conversation. I shoot her a glare, but she doesn’t get the message.

“Nishat, I’ve been informed that the text sent about you might have something to do with this business competition. Do you know anything about that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not a big deal.” I train my eyes on my shoes instead of her.

“Nishat, this is serious. It can be good to be competitive, but this is not healthy competitiveness. It’s harassment, and whoever did this will face serious consequences. If it’s someone participating in the competition, I will find out and disqualify them, at best. At worst, Ms. Murphy will ensure that they face a long suspension.” When I look up, she looks determined. Like she really believes she’ll get to the bottom of this.

“I really don’t want to draw any more attention to this, Miss,” I say, shrugging my shoulders again.

“Nishat—”

“It probably wasn’t because of the competition,” I say. “It could have been anyone.” I don’t tell her that I know exactly who it was.