“This is the bane of my existence,” I whisper to Priti as soon as the guy turns away.

“Buses? Falling on people? Crowds?”

“All of it!” I cry. “But … school. And getting there like this,” I wave my hand around, but only in a small circle because I’m afraid I’ll accidentally poke someone and I don’t need any more glares from strangers this morning. “I’m so over it.”

“We just started it, gadha,” Priti says.

“Don’t call me a gadha.” I shoot her a glare but she just rolls her eyes. Instead of replying, she edges closer to me and lays her head on my shoulder. Despite the fact that Priti had a weird growth spurt a few years back where she actually grew taller than me, I managed to outgrow her eventually. We’re still almost the same height but I have a few inches on her. I wear them with pride.

I’m tempted to push Priti off of me now since I’m not really in the mood to have 128 extra pounds on top of me this early in the morning, but knowing how Priti gets in the morning—cranky, like really, really cranky—I decide that I’ll leave her be. I make the mental note to not let this become a habit.

Instead I put my arm around her shoulder and lean back against the railing. I watch the trees and buildings and people rush by outside the window, trying my best not to think about the way Ammu seemed to avoid my eyes this morning.

Something like regret weighs heavily on me, but it’s not regret, exactly. It’s something adjacent to it. Shame, maybe? Or the regret that something didn’t happen the way I wanted it to, that things had to turn sour. Or in this case, silent.

As soon as we slip into school, Priti waves goodbye and runs off, no doubt to find Ali and fill her in on all of the wedding shenanigans. I watch her disappear down the hallway, weaving through crowds of girls wearing the same checkered maroon uniforms, her bag swinging behind her. Before I have a chance to turn around, somebody has wrapped me in a tight embrace.

“Nishat!” A familiar voice squeals in my ears. I turn around to find two delighted faces staring back at me. There’s Chaewon, with her dark black hair at least a few inches longer than I remember it to be. Beside her stands Jess, with brand-new bangs that cover half of her face. It feels like I haven’t seen them for an eternity, even though it’s only been a few months.

“Hey!” I muster up the brightest smile I can offer at this time of the morning.