Darius the Great Deserves Better - Adib Khorram Page 0,41
towels.
“I think so. I’ve never made it myself.” I went to lift the lid, but Landon put his hand on my arm.
“It says to leave the lid on until it’s ready.”
“How do you know it’s ready if you can’t take the lid off?”
Landon shrugged. “The recipe is a little vague on that point.”
* * *
Like I said, Landon Edwards was magic.
The rice turned out perfectly—a resplendent golden disc—and he upended the pot onto a platter right as Mom got home.
“Wow,” Mom said. “This is amazing.”
Landon’s cheeks turned pink. “Thank you.”
I set the table as Mom changed into sweatpants, and we all settled to eat. Landon dished out perfect wedges of tah dig and great big scoops of stew.
“Thank you again for taking Laleh,” Mom said.
“It’s fine, Shirin,” Grandma said. “I put the papers about the gifted program on your desk.”
My ears burned.
Grandma was acting like that was all that mattered.
But Mom just nodded.
“Oh, are you doing that, Laleh?” Landon asked.
“I don’t know.” Laleh looked up at me and then down at her food. “Maybe. I guess.”
I pushed some stew onto my spoon.
“I used to do that. All the way through eighth grade.” Landon squeezed my knee under the table. “Were you in it too?”
I shook my head.
“Oh.” Landon looked down at his plate. “Well. It’s really cool, Laleh. I think you’ll like it.”
Laleh said, “Okay.”
I stared into my stew. It was verdant green, with seared chunks of beef like dark brown islands in a lush swamp.
Lots of Persian stews look like swamps, even—no, especially—the most delicious ones.
I swallowed away the lump in my throat.
I wanted to cry.
I don’t know why.
But I couldn’t cry at the dinner table.
* * *
Landon had band practice early the next morning, so we could only steal a few minutes in my room before his dad picked him up. I waved at Mr. Edwards as they drove off and then went to help Mom wash the dishes.
While we worked, Grandma and Oma planted themselves in the living room to watch reruns of Law & Order. The original one.
I could see where Dad got his television habits from, because they watched a single episode every night. And there were a lot of episodes of Law & Order.
“What did you think of the meeting?”
“I think Miss Hawn doesn’t get that Laleh’s classmates are being racist. Or maybe she doesn’t care.”
Mom sighed. “I don’t think she knows. Or at least she doesn’t know how to deal with it. But I do think she cares about Laleh.”
I chewed on my lip and dunked my sponge into the rice pot, which I had cleaned and filled with sudsy water.
Mom turned the sink back on and started rinsing again.
“Landon did a good job with the khoresh.”
“Yeah.”
“He’s something special, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d your test go, by the way?”
“Okay. Chip helped me study.”
“How come you never ask Landon to help you study? Sounds like he’s smart too.”
I swallowed away the lump in my throat again.
“I don’t know. His classes are all different.”
“Hm.”
The back of my neck prickled.
“Remind me when your next game is?”
“Friday.”
“Maybe your dad can catch it while he’s home.”
“Maybe.”
* * *
Our game against the Beaverton East Eagles was tough. Neither team scored, so we ended up in a shoot-out.
The Eagles’ first shooter scored with a tricky shot that ricocheted off the corner and into the net, but Gabe got them back with a slick shot of his own. No one else scored after that: James and Nick and Jaden all missed, and so did Beaverton’s shooters.
But then it was Chip’s turn.
I held my breath as he sized up the goal and took the shot.
And scored.
The stands went wild—at least the small cluster of parents and friends did. People didn’t care about the Chapel Hill High School varsity men’s soccer team the way they cared about the football team.
Dad was conspicuously absent. His flight got delayed.
The guys all clustered around Chip, laughing and shoving each other and high-fiving and exchanging sweaty hugs.
I hung back a little bit. I don’t know why.
But then Jaden saw me. He laughed and pulled me into the scrum too, and he slapped my back and hung his arm around my neck, and Gabe fist-bumped me, and Chip grinned at me, and I smiled back in spite of myself, and we shouted and jumped until Coach came and told us to calm down so we could shake hands with the other team.
She was grinning too, though.
And for a second, at least, it was okay that Dad was gone.