“Yeah,” Jess shrugs. “I mean, you’re on your own here and …”

“… it’s kind of our fault,” Chaewon finishes with a sheepish smile.

“We had different creative visions,” is all I say, before digging into the box. It’s full of fairy lights and colorful crepe paper. “Thanks.”

Jess and Chaewon help me finish setting up, stringing up fairy lights, and spreading the crepe paper around until the booth looks a little magical.

The showcase starts off okay. Even though almost every other booth gets more attention than mine, a few stragglers stop over and let me paint their hands with my henna. It’s not a lot—but it’s the most business I’ve gotten since this whole thing started.

An hour into the showcase, Jess comes over, nodding at my table with approval. “We did a pretty good job.”

I roll my eyes. “You did. With yours too.” Their stall has had nonstop customers—mostly students and teachers, but even the early arriving parents have been drawn to it.

“Well, will you do my henna?” Jess asks, taking a seat. “The other side.” She holds up her empty palm.

“Sure.” I smile and show her my design book, getting everything ready as she makes her choice about what henna design to get.

Once she’s decided, she places her hand flat on the table in front of me and I hover my hand over hers, henna tube at the ready.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” The sudden outburst takes me out of my work. When I look up, she’s studying me with a frown. It’s the most serious I’ve ever seen her look.

“You’ve already apologized,” I say.

“Not really. Not for the real stuff,” Jess sighs. “Like … not believing you about Chyna. And leaving you out to dry instead of supporting your idea for the henna business.”

“It’s okay. You’re supporting me now.”

“How come …” She stops and takes a deep breath. “How come you never told us about you being gay?”

I can only shrug. Why didn’t I ever tell them? It wasn’t that I never thought about it, but after I told Ammu and Abbu it felt like a curtain fell over that part of me. A curtain I couldn’t part, no matter how hard I tried. Every time I thought about telling them, telling anyone, I only remembered what Ammu said about making choices. I know it’s not about making choices—rationally—but to tell other people would feel like confirming what Ammu was most afraid of: Me choosing to bring us shame. And I wasn’t sure if I could handle rejection and loss a second time.

Jess frowns, like she’s really thinking about it. I worry she’ll be angry and lash out. After all, she and I haven’t had the best track record lately. But she nods her head and stills her hand beneath me.