"You finally hung out with, Brice?" Sadaf said, a little too loudly for my taste, even though we sat in the noisy cafeteria. "That's definitely an improvement."

        He was even talking to me in psych. Mostly because I gained the courage to sit next to him, but he was talking to me nevertheless.

        "Was he a somewhat decent human being?" Mi Yun asked while munching on a banana. "Or is he just an all-around asshole?"

        "Ha-ha," I said, sarcasm marking my tone as I held a blank expression. "Brice is not that bad."

        "Neither is Sabrina." Mi Yun stole a fry from my plate. "But that doesn't stop you from hating her."

        Sadaf nodded in agreement. "Touché."

        "We'll talk about it more at Sadaf's house." The three of us were supposed to go to the Bagheri house after school today, so I'd just tell them then. I had too much to say, and it wouldn't all fit in a short lunch period. Sadaf nodded, but Mi Yun cleared her throat. "Mimi?" She refused to look at me. "What's wrong?"

        "I don't think I can make it," she mumbled.

        "Why not?" I asked, and she cringed.

        "You're not gonna like it."

        It dawned on me. "Sabrina?" Mi Yun circled her bangles around her wrist, over and over again. "You have plans with Sabrina, don't you?"

        And she wondered why I didn't like this girl. How could I when she was ditching us for her?

        "Es, it's okay." Sadaf covered my hand with hers. "Me and you will have fun. Mimi and Sabrina will have fun." I crossed my arms. "We'll all have fun. It'll be great."

        I needed apple juice.

        "Whatever." I stood up. "I'll be back. I have to go to the vending machine." They sent me knowing looks, and I turned around and made my way over to the vending machine.

        The nerve of Mi Yun. Abandoning her friends for some basic girl? It was insulting and frustrating. It'd been a while since all three of us hung out at Sadaf's house, and I was looking forward to it, but no. Sabrina Fraser had to ruin it.

        When I got closer to the vending machine, I almost tripped over air when I spotted a familiar figure standing in front of it.

        Brice.

        His jean jacket gave him away.

        I managed my pace wisely, wanting to get there before he left but not wanting to get there too fast out of fear of appearing desperate. When I reached him, he was bending over to grab a king-sized Kit Kat.

        "Hey." I nudged him with my elbow once he stood upright.

        Brice grinned, flashing me those breath-taking dimples, and I had to remind myself to blink and breathe evenly. "Estella, what's up?"

        I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Nothing much." He motioned for me to go ahead and use the vending machine, so I did. "I didn't know you had this lunch."

        "Now, you know."

        I grinned as I stuffed my dollar into the machine. However, when my apple juice got stuck, the dispenser returned to its original position.

        No!

        "Daaaaamn." Brice tsked with a shake of his head. "That thing just jacked your dollar."

        In front of Brice. Why did this have to happen in front of Brice?

        Brice tried shaking the vending machine a couple times, but the apple juice didn't budge. After a couple more seconds of this, he gave up with a sharp exhale before turning to me. "I'm sorry, Estella."

        "It's okay," I mumbled with my shoulders slacked and a little pout.

        Then I remembered Jax's words.

        I was being immature. I quickly pushed back my shoulders and smiled. "Seriously," I said, "it's not that big of a deal. I can always get apple juice next time."

        He returned my smile.

        "What's going on here?" Jax stopped beside us, his gaze flickering from me to Brice and then back to me.

        "Well, well." I crossed my arms with a sassy look. "Look who's stalking me." In all honesty, I was excited to see him.

        Jax busted into laughter. "You're funny. As if I have nothing better to do." He continued to crack up, and I scowled at him.

        Brice smacked his arm. "Man, give her a break. Home-girl just lost her dollar."

        Jax sent me a look. "Let me guess. Apple juice?" I wanted to say "no," but it was true. I said nothing instead, and Jax shook his head in disapproval. "Predictable."

        "You can have some of my Kit Kat," Brice said while offering it to me. "If you're a germaphobe, you can bite first. If you're not, you can take a bite after me, getting a taste of this Kit Kat and me." My eyes expanded while Jax rolled his, and Brice chuckled. "I'm sorry. I just say things like this. You have to get used to it."

        "No, no, no. Don't apologize. I don't mind." In all honesty, I wasn't sure. I liked it because it made me feel good when he flirted, but at the same time, I couldn't help but wonder if he did the same thing to every other girl.

        "Estella," Jax said, capturing my attention. "Come." He waved me over as he turned around to walk off. Brice and I trailed behind him, and I glanced over to my table to see my friends watching us with furrowed eyebrows and confused expressions.

        We stopped at a table near the stairwell that led down to the basement, and Oliver and another boy halted their chatter at our arrival.

        "Who is this lady?" Tyrone—no Tyler—asked with his focus on me, and he wore the white jacket he was known for.

        "I'm Estella," I answered. "Estella Gillon."

        Oliver clapped once and pointed at me. "You're Sadaf's friend."

        I grinned. "Yes, I am."

        Tyler pursed his lips and squinted his eyes, almost examining me. Then he turned to Oliver and muttered, "Why is she here?"

        My face dropped, morphing into a small frown. Excuse me? Rude much?

        It took everything in my will power to stop myself from kissing my teeth. Mature women didn't let people get to them like that.

        "Ignore, Tyler," Brice said while moving around the table to shake Tyler's shoulders. "He's a kind one. You just have to break through."

        Sure.

        "Here you go." Jax handed me a bottle of apple juice, and my lips parted. "I got it earlier, and since I don't like apple juice as much as you do, I won't miss it."

        "Are you sure?" I asked with a hand on my chest.

        He fought back a smirk. "Don't be all dramatic. Take it." He grabbed my hand and placed the bottle in it. "Plus, it's my week of servitude, remember?"

        He averted his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck while I continued to watch him. "Of course. Thank you, Jax. This means a lot."

        "I offered you my Kit Kat," Brice said from behind Tyler, and he winked my way.

        "Thank you, Brice." I snickered.

        I glanced over at Jax to catch him staring at me, and he didn't look away once our eyes met. He was being so good. He had gotten me my bubble tea like I requested, and now, he offered me his apple juice.

        It seemed like such a trivial gesture, but it made me all warm on the inside.

        "Well," I started when I snapped out of it, "I'll talk to you guys later."

        "Tell Sadaf I said 'hi,'" Oliver said with a two-finger salute directed my way.

        "I will," I told him before glancing at the others. "See ya."

        I waved and turned to leave. "Bye, Estella," Brice called out to me, and I peeked back, only to catch Jax's brown eyes following me.

        He waved.

        I waved back.

        "What the hell just happened?" Mi Yun wasted no time questioning me when I sat back at our table.

        "For real," Sadaf piped in. "Why did you go over to their table? I thought you wanted apple juice."

        I twisted the cap opened. "Oh, I got my apple juice, all right." I drank a huge gulp of it before bringing it down from my lips.

        Then I told them what happened. The vending machine stealing my dollar. Brice trying to help, and then Jax giving me his apple juice. Honestly, the best part of this was the apple juice and being around the boys. Some more than others.

        "All this because of apple juice?" Sadaf scratched her head in confusion. "Who would have thought a machine stealing your money would have an upside?"

        "I know right." I sure didn't. I opened my mouth to say more, but a hand slammed on the table beside my tray. I jerked and glanced up at the owner of the hand. "B-Brice."

        He pushed a slip of paper my way. "Here's my gift to you." He leaned in close. "I'm looking forward to seeing you at that party."

        Sadaf's mouth was open while Mi Yun slit her eyes. I almost shivered at his close proximity, but just like that, he stood upright and walked away. I reached for the paper with trembling hands, and the digits staring back at me made my breath hitch. Once the shock wore off, it took all of my will power to suppress a scream.

        "Is it his number?" Sadaf rose from her seat and craned her neck for a look.

        "Yasss!" I showed them the digits with the biggest grin plastered on my face. I couldn't believe my luck.

        "Here's my gift to you?" Mi Yun tilted her head. "What is he? A Greek god or something? A gift to the earth?"

        "Girl, stop." I waved her off. "I have his number. That's all I care about." When I couldn't hold it in anymore, I released a squeal.

        I had Brice Abrams's number.

        "You know one thing I don't understand?" Mi Yun studied me. "In the story, Brice offered you his Kit Kat." What wasn't there to understand? Sadaf seemed just as confused as I was, so we listened carefully. "But you never took it."

        I was silent for a couple seconds. "Does it matter?"

        She shrugged. "I just find it kind of odd because you like Kit Kats, and you like Brice. I would think you'll take a Kit Kat from Brice."

        Huh.

        It was just...weird taking a Kit Kat from Brice. I didn't know why, but it didn't feel right.

        "You had no problem taking that apple juice from Jax though," Mi Yun pointed out.

        "I love apple juice," I said. "I'll definitely take it, and Jax is...Jax. That's all there is to it."

        "You're right." She nodded. "It's not that serious."

        Mi Yun turned to Sadaf and the two began talking, but all I could do was stare down at the number on the sheet of paper. I glimpsed over at the empty bottle of apple juice before stuffing the sheet of paper into my pocket.

        After school, "Ketsuraku Automation" by One Ok Rock blasted from the stereo, a favorite of mine from Sadaf's J-Rock playlist. I hummed to the tone while lying on the carpeted floor and surfing the net on Sadaf's laptop.

        "What do you wanna watch?" I asked her. "K-drama or anime?"

        She winced. "That's a tough one." She had removed her hijab earlier and was now brushing her hair in front of her mirror. "Mi Yun really should have been here. At least then, we won't have a choice."

        I opened a tab for either option. "True."

        Mi Yun wasn't a big fan of anime. According to her, she would rather watch real people than cartoons. Sadaf, on the other hand, loved anime. I appreciated a good anime, but I wasn't an avid fan.

        There were two things the three of us agreed on though: our love for K-dramas and K-Pop.

        "You should marry an Eastern Asian man, Sadaf," I teased as she made her way over to me. "You'll fit in just fine."

        "Shut up." She shoved me back as she sat cross-legged beside me. "You know I'm going to marry an Iranian man. Or the very least, another Muslim."

        "I know." I closed the laptop shut and sat up so we could face each other. "Less competition for me."

        "You have plenty of guys waiting at your beck and call, Estella," she said with a chuckle. "You don't need anymore."

        "Wait." I put a hand up. "Who are these mystery guys?"

        She deadpanned. "Stop playing dumb. You know who I'm talking about."

        I didn't understand her use of a plural form, but there was one on my mind. "There's only one boy for me, and that's Brice Abrams."

         "Jax is really cute," she said.

        "Jax and I are just friends." I didn't understand why it even had to be clarified. "He's also helping me get with Brice, like the good mutual friend he is."

        Jax was cute though. He had warm, brown eyes, an even tan to his skin and a face and body easy on the eyes. Initially, his personality turned me off, but now, I was used to it. He had his quirks, but they made him Jax.

        Sadaf rolled her eyes. "This 'mutual friend' thing is total crap."

        "No, it isn't," I said. "It makes perfect sense. Jax is my and Brice's mutual friend, and through him, we'll become more acquainted."

        "You can get acquainted with people without using their friends." Sadaf grabbed the stereo's remote and skipped the song that was currently playing. "Oliver and I have a pretty decent friendship, and we did that all on our own. We didn't need a 'mutual friend.'"

        I smirked. "Speaking of Oliver..." I scooted over to rest my back against the bed. "He told me earlier to tell you 'hi.'" Sadaf smiled with her lips shielding her teeth. "He's cute," I said with a nudge to her side. "Too bad he's not Muslim."

        "Shut up!" Sadaf reached back for a pillow, and she smacked me with it. I fought her off with my arms, laughing the whole time. "I'm not allowed to date, Es." She finally halted on her attacks and placed the pillow in her lap. "Even if I was, we're just friends. Nothing romantic is gonna come of me and Oliver."

        "Who's Oliver?"

        My blood ran cold and based off of the pale expression on Sadaf's face, hers did, too. The two of us slowly turned our heads in the direction of the door, and Mrs. Bagheri stood there with her arms crossed and a firm look.

        "Oliver's just a classmate," Sadaf answered. "We sometimes have to work together for in-class assignments, that's all."

        "You're not befriending boys, are you?" Mrs. Bagheri watched her carefully, and Sadaf shook her head.

        "Of course, not."

        Mrs. Bagheri's facial features took a couple seconds to relax, but she nodded after some time. "Lower the music. It's too loud."

        "Areh, Maman." Sadaf quickly lowered the volume, and Mrs. Bagheri exited the room.

        She never acknowledged me.

        Sadaf returned to her original spot with a sigh of relief. "No more talking about boys, Es. I almost got a heart attack." She clutched a hand to her chest, and I snickered. "I love my mother, but she doesn't get it. She expects me to not befriend boys or go near them even though I'm surrounded by boys all the time in school."

        "It's nearly impossible to avoid them."

        "Exactly," Sadaf said. "She doesn't understand what I go through being stuck between two worlds. One world is filled with hook-up culture, Christianity and Americans who were born and raised here and the other world is Iranian and Muslim and immigrants. If I choose one culture over the other, I'll be a complete outcast in the other one, and that's not an option. I have to find this nice middle that pleases both sides, and it's exhausting, Es." She rubbed her forehead in frustration.

Wow. Sadaf usually never talked about stuff like this. I assumed it was probably very difficult juggling two separate cultures, but hearing her say it made it a little more real.

        "I love my faith," she said, "and I appreciate my culture and my family. It's just... I wish I didn't have to feel so different all the time." She chewed on her bottom lip while fumbling with her fingers. "The only people who want to be different are those who haven't experienced it."

        "Sadaf." I moved over so I could sit in front of her, and we held eye contact. "Do you know why you're different? It's because you're an incredible flute player and a phenomenal marcher. It's because you have amazing taste in music and anime and every fun thing you can think of." She cracked a smile. "You're different because you're one of the sweetest people I know. Everyone likes you, and you're so easy to be around and to talk to. Regardless of your personal beliefs, you don't judge people, and you accept everyone for who they are. You're different because you're a loyal, supportive friend who isn't afraid of being honest at the same time. So many things make you different and unique. Things that have nothing to do with your religion or culture or background."

        "They're important parts of who I am," she said.

        "They are," I agreed. "They're very important, and they impact your life greatly, but they don't define you. Many things make you different, not just one."

        "Es." She grabbed me into an embrace, and I returned it. "Thank you. Thank you for being my friend."

        I smiled as we continued to hold each other. "Thank you for being mine." We pulled back, chuckling and getting comfortable with our backs against the bed again. "But seriously. K-drama or anime?"

        Sadaf grinned. "Anime."

        "I knew you were gonna say that," I said as I reached over for the laptop.

My mother took the picture when I was five. The one where her hair was exceptionally frizzy. Her smile was exceptionally bright. The one Jax pointed out.

        She took the picture when I was five, and a year later, she was dead.

        "You okay, Bunny?" Daddy placed a hand on my shoulder as he came up behind me. I nodded, my eyes still on the picture. "What's wrong?" He turned me so I could look at him. "What's the matter?"

        "That's the problem," I said. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing's the matter. My mom has been dead for almost ten years, and nothing's wrong. I don't remember ever feeling sad, and she died. Who doesn't feel sad when their mother dies?"

        My father always talked about my mother, but she was this distant memory. Someone who once held significance in my life, but I could never recall any anguish from her passing. Hearing Sadaf talk about her personal battles and reflecting back on her relationship with her mother brought forth my own reflection. I shouldn't have felt this indifferent towards my mother, even though she was dead.

        "You were young, Bunny," Daddy said. "Six. It's okay if you can't remember much about her. It's okay if you can't remember feeling sad. You were young." I sent him a look, not convinced. "A part of me is glad you didn't have to endure that. I'll never wish that level of sadness and despair on my baby girl." He caressed my cheek, and we smiled at each other. "A part of me also wishes you could have gotten the chance to know her. She was an incredible person. Very fit and athletic and friendly. You two would have gotten along."

        My smile diminished.

        Maybe we wouldn't have.

        We could have been really close, almost inseparable. Or, we could have been indifferent towards each other—an indifference I hated experiencing. Or, we could have never gotten along—always fighting and disagreeing.

        I glanced back at the picture of the frizzy-haired woman.

        I guess I would never know.