Aidan asks.

Nurah.

My name is Nurah.

I sneeze.

God bless you.

I don’t know if

I’m supposed to say thank you,

so I say nothing.

To be safe.

Aidan

His skin is golden brown,

like smooth sand.

His eyes much lighter

than mine,

soft toffee brown,

and much kinder

when he offers me a

crooked smile.

Isn’t he cute? whispers Brittany

when he gets up

to go to the restroom.

And when Brittany asks

that question,

Brittany Walker with her

blond hair and blue eyes,

I don’t know why,

but I feel smaller than I am

and sad.

I don’t feel like I,

Nurah Haqq,

with black hair and dark-brown eyes

am enough

enough for Aidan?

And if I ever will be.

Lab Partner

For some reason

when it’s time

to choose a lab partner,

Aidan smiles

his crooked smile

and chooses me,

not Brittany.

And I feel better than

I’ve felt

in quite a while.

Clothes

Nana has tailored

my clothes

for me.

Red piping.

3 buttons.

2 pockets even.

Floral print.

Colors bright

and happy.

Aqua blue

paired with

eggplant purple.

Ripe-mango yellow

paired with

unripe-mango green.

Rosy pink

paired with

bright orange.

Cloth so soft

it feels like tissue.

But then I hear the whispers

that scratch like nails.

Even though

I pair the kurtas

with stiff jeans, not shalwars . . .

Why does she wear clothes

like that

every day?

Why doesn’t she wear anything

different?

I don’t know how some people

go through middle school

dressed like that.

The colors of my clothes

are no longer happy.

In Walmart, the only

long-sleeve shirts

that are loose

that I like

are in the women’s section.

No pockets.

No floral print.

No red piping.

Shirts rough like towels.

Dull like

the colors of

crumpled litter on the beach.

Ugly faded brick.

Faded purple marker.

But I buy them anyway.

Autumn

The leaves have finally

changed into

a glory

of spices.

And our moods

have cooled

with the weather.

But even though Asna

emails and calls

and I

email and call,

she is far,

too far

away.

I am still

alone.

So alone,

even when we 4 are all

together

in 1 little hotel room.

Sweet in Comfort Suites

Baba has booked us

an extended stay hotel

called Comfort Suites,

but I don’t feel the comfort

(the sofa bed sags and groans)

and it’s not sweet.

Baba plans for us to be here

for no more than

a couple of months

(60 days or less)

while we look for a house,

maybe a home?

Owais and I long

for a house

until we realize

every Tuesday

and Thursday afternoon,

the staff bakes and serves

melty circles of joy

in the lobby:

chocolate chip cookies.

The suites are becoming

sweeter.

Comfort in Comfort Suites

We don’t know anyone.

But now we know

Miss Polly and Miss Josefina

who wear stiff blue housekeeper uniforms.

In the corner of our suite

is a small black rectangle stovetop

where Ammi cooks food