Darius the Great Is Not Okay (Darius the Great, #1)

by Adib Khorram

“You have prescription?” I nodded. “Yeah. Um. At home. It’s written on the bottle.” “What is this for?” “Depression.” “That’s all it’s for? What are you depressed about?” My ears burned. I glanced up at the four lights and hoped I wasn’t going to be chained to the ceiling and stripped naked. I hated that question: What are you depressed about? Because the answer was nothing. I had nothing to be depressed about. Nothing really bad had ever happened to me. I felt so inadequate. Dad told me I couldn’t help my brain chemistry any more than I could help having brown eyes. Dr. Howell always told me not to be ashamed. But moments like this made it hard not to be. “Nothing,” I said. “My brain just makes the wrong chemicals is all.”

“Darioush.” Sohrab bumped my shoulder again. “No one wants me here.” “Everyone wants you here. We have a saying in Farsi. It translates ‘your place was empty.’ We say it when we miss somebody.” I sniffed. “Your place was empty before. But this is your family. You belong here.” I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. It was nice to imagine. Even if I didn’t believe him. “Thanks, Sohrab.”

PERSIAN TEA: Each Persian (or even Fractional Persian) family has their own blend for Persian Tea; usually a mix of Earl Grey and some other heartier black tea, like Assam. Prepare it in a double boiler, steeping your tea for ten minutes or so at a full boil, with some crushed cardamom pods in it and, if you’re feeling bold, a bit of cinnamon.