"Your dad really says 'kiddo'? That's so white," Salah said, putting the sticker Ameena gave her on her wrist. I had finished telling her and Ameena about how lax my dad was compared to my mom.

Ameena looked at me for my reaction, handing me a sticker, too.

"Well, he is." I copied Salah and put it on my wrist. It was easy for me to blend in with Salah's Bangladeshi and Ameena's Pakistani looks—wearing a hijab was enough to cover up my dad's whiteness, which would've made me fit in with the rest of the school. And my lighter skin tone matched Ameena's, and she was Pakistani. "My mom says it sometimes, too."

"How is your last name Muhammad?" Ameena asked, her brows raised slightly. It was a little hard to take her seriously at the moment—she had a flower sticker on each of her cheeks. "Shouldn't it be something like...Smith?"

I grasped the front of my stool, feeling a sort of pressure in my chest. Was it happiness? Relief? I always preferred to talk about school or listen to Salah or Ameena talk about their lives, similar to how my relationship with him was finally scratching beyond the surface of classmates because of Tireya.

"Well, my mom's parents chose my last name," I rush to answer. "They didn't want me to have my dad's last name, which is Stonewell. That's what my mom said, anyway."

"Half-white, half-brown—" Salah stopped to think, "you're the O.G. chocolate milk."

My lips curled into a smile at this.

"What do you call your parents at home?" Ameena asked. "Mom and Dad?"

"No. I call my mom 'mama' since my dad's family is from Texas, and that's common there. And I call my dad 'baba' because that's how my mom says dad in Bengali. I guess it's like our last effort to keep as much culture in the house since we don't do anything else. My mom didn't teach me Bengali, so I don't," I added, my lips pressed into a thin line in a hint of regret. "I only know some words here and there."

"Oh, everyone in my family knows how to speak Urdu fluently," Ameena said.

"I've seen a lot of pictures from when my mom was younger wearing traditional clothing. But I don't know anything about that part of her life at all...." My voice trailed off. "Maybe I'm too white, and she's raising me without the culture because of it."

"No way." The annoyance in Salah's words startled me. "Whatever the reason, don't think that, Inaya. My younger siblings can't speak much Bangla, and they're a hundred percent Noakhali."

"Really?" My eyes widened. Noakhali is a district in Bangladesh... it's a part of the Chittagong division, I think. "They don't speak it either?"

Salah nodded and quickly texted something on her phone before focusing on me again. "Maybe it's time we accept that people can still be a part of a culture even though they can't speak the language," she said. She waves a hand between us. "I mean, it's pretty normal for immigrant and interracial kids. We exist, don't we?"

"Yeah, you're right!" I laughed. Coming from Salah, who shared my mom's Bengali culture, made my chest swell with happiness. "Do you say you're Bengali or Bangladeshi?"

"Huh." Salah twisted her lips in thought. "Well, the British cut Bengal into two countries, so Bengali is the ethnicity, and Bangladeshi is the nationality. The other nationality is Indian. Girl, we learned this in history class."

I bit my lip, red-faced. "I just wanted to hear it from a Bangladeshi person, not a textbook," I mumbled.

"You must have your dad's eyes," Ameena said. "Yours are lighter than ours."

Salah leaned closer to look, squinting her eyes and placing a hand on her chin in exaggeration.

I opened my mouth to say something but stopped when I noticed Valentino walking over to sit in his seat. I felt a blush creep up my neck—thankfully covered under my hijab.

"What are we looking at?" he asked Salah, staring at me with the same calculated look that Salah had on her face.

"Inaya's big nose."

"Hey!" I shouted and used my hands to cover the bottom half of my face. But that was Salah for you—uplifting and snarky in one breath.

"She gets it from her mom," Salah continued. "Her dad's the White one."

Valentino's eyes met mine. I was sure the redness in my neck reached my ears. Thankfully, both are covered.

"My nose is fine. I'm proud of a Bengali nose," I said confidently.

"Mom side, huh?" he muttered and then looked away.

I exhaled and lowered my hands from my face. What just happened?

Salah quickly said, "Hey, let's take a pic." She pulled out her phone and lifted it to angle them all in.

Valentino glanced our way, and Salah motioned for him to join. He leaned close to my left, and Ameena edged to my right. I beamed.

Mrs. Asaka made her way to the front of the classroom just as Salah put her phone down.

"I'll send this to you guys," she said, putting her phone away. "I give you permission to post it online, too."

"I don't have social media," I said, "but I would like the picture."

Valentino, Salah, and Ameena stared at me.

"My mom's rules," I reminded them.

"It's fine," Valentino said as we turned to face the front of the room. "One of us will post it then."

Before we all went to our respective classes for the day, I brushed my hand against Valentino's arm to grab his attention. It also grabbed Elsa's from across the room.

"Can I watch you play today?" I mumbled.

"Huh? I forgot to bring my laptop." He paused to add, "Library after school?"

"Oh." I shook her head. "I can't. My mom expects me to be home."

"Let's find another time then," Valentino said, giving me a small, encouraging smile.

Elsa and the rest of the Fan Club jumped to his side as he stepped away. I would normally feel a little bummed out for missing an opportunity to spend time with Valentino, but I didn't this time. I had a secret that would balance it out—one that would evade Elsa's prying eyes at the same time.

* * *

"You can't stay after school?" Ameena asked. Me, Salah, and I were standing outside the school building. Salah had a hand on her hip and was squinting in the sunlight.

"Sorry, Mom's rules," I agreed.

"Mom and Dad's rules," Salah said, rolling her eyes. "I can't stay either with all the stuff I have to do."

"All right, we can hang out some other time," Ameena said with a shrug of her shoulders.

I waved goodbye to the two and headed to the bus stop, wondering when Valentino might log in today. The ends of my eyes crinkled at the thought of revealing my identity to him once we'd spent a bunch of time together. He'd never see it coming! I glanced back in the direction of my friends. Should I tell Salah and Ameena about my plan? I shook my head.

Salah couldn't keep a secret to herself even if her life depended on it, and Ameena was too nice not to tell Salah about it.

I did the usual prayer, lunch, and homework routine at home. But now I had anew part to add: log into CrusadEon Online around 6 p.m. and read the latest game update while the game loaded. Then it was study after dinner, log in again before praying, and go to bed.

Today's news: players who received gear from yesterday's event would sparkle when equipped with the gear and weapons that Aleksander dropped until the next event. In addition, players would be notified when a friend or diplomat logged in rather than having to check their character profile manually.

Valentino wasn't online yet, so I got up to grab a snack from the kitchen. I lifted a bar of dark chocolate from the fridge and was going to walk out but was stopped by my mom with her phone to her ear.

I could make out the name on the screen: King of the Jungle 🦁.

"There's fruit in this house, too, y'know," my mom said, frowning at the sight of the candy in my hands.

I groaned and turned around. I grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the kitchen island.

"There, happy now?" I shook it for my mama to see.

"Yes, actually."

"Stop bullying our baby," came the sound of my baba at the other end of my mom's phone. "You already make me eat healthy."

"Oh my God," Mama rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, Baba!" I shouted.

"I let her take the chocolate, too," my mom added defensively as she turned to walk away. "Hey, you want chicken korma for dinner?"

Back in my room, I leaned back in my rolling desk chair to munch on my snacks and quest simultaneously. I continued to play for another hour. But by dinner, I was bothered—not necessarily because Valentino still hadn't logged on—but because some players were trying to flirt with me.

Annok was a pretty girl, a trait that rubbed off on Tireya. Unfortunately, it meant I had to deal with quite a number of unsolicited attempts from other players to get to know me outside of the game.

"Time for Tireya to get a hijab," I shook my head. "Let's see if that does anything for these online weirdos."

I paused my questing when I received a text from Salah. It was the group picture we took earlier today. I tapped to enlarge it and then went to pick up my Polaroid to snap a picture of my phone displaying the smiling friend group. I waved the printed picture to dry its ink, placing the final thing into my scrapbook with the caption high school besties + crush.

With a lingering glance, I closed the book and shared the picture with Aunt Naomi. My half-Greek-half-Pakistani aunt wasn't related to either of my parents; Baba was an only child, and I was sure my mom had siblings despite never meeting any. Regardless, Aunt Naomi was present in most of the pictures in my scrapbooks.

I leveled up for another half hour before logging off for a chicken korma dinner. I returned to my room to gloss over my notes. After staring at my precalculus notebook, I sighed and placed it down to go back to my computer desk.

Hey!

My heart jumped, and I leaned forward subconsciously in my seat.

Hii

Check out my gear

Sure

Hmm I think there's a better robe for your level?

Oh :(

Here I thought I was gonna impress you

My bad lol

Your doing great for your level

But let me check for you

Yeah, there's a really good one you don't have

Where?

Can you help me get it?

Sure, no prob

It'll go faster if it's the two of us

Where are you?

City of Istantinople

Outside Ahmed's Mechanic Shop

I'll take you to the boss

It's kind of hard to get to

Be there in a sec

Wait wait

How are you gonna help me with a boss?

Aren't our enemies different?

Ah good question

We're diplomats so I can help you fight Templar bosses, and you can help me fight Ottoman ones

Ooooh okay!

:)

so tell me!!

what do you like

What don't you like

I hadn't realized it was already pretty late to be playing, and losing track of time could only spell trouble.

A slap to the wall made me bolt upright in my seat. I spun around to see my dad there. A knot in my stomach loosened, knowing it was my dad and not my mom, but the knot didn't go away completely.

"I've been here for almost five minutes, and you didn't even know," he said. I pursed my lips, knowing I had no comeback for that. "Your mama is about to wash off her kaolinite brightening face mask right now before she heads over here. And you know she isn't going to be happy if she sees you up on a school night."

"I know, I know." I glanced back at the screen and hit the space bar. I glanced over at my dad. "And you got that clay mask for her, right?"

"That's right. You got clear skin from my side of the family," he said with a chuckle.

I smiled a little, preoccupied by the game.

"All right. Tomorrow's Friday, so you don't have to worry."

I pouted my lips playfully. "I'm not worried. You are."

"Okay, you got me there," my dad chuckled lightly. "Just tryna avoid upsetting her."

"I know." I turned back to face the screen fully. The less you upset Mama, the less likely she'd to get into a mood.

I gotta go

School night and all that

O you right

I should probs do the same

You in high school?

I quickly added, so he wouldn't figure me out,

College?

Nah, I'm 17

Me, too!

Cool cool

Laterz!

I had a blast tonight

Yeah? Me too ;)

Gnight