The Henna Wars

by Adiba Jaigirdar

“I love you, you know?” Priti says after a moment of silence passes between us. “Like … if I had to choose between an awful guy that Ammu and Abbu approved of and you, I would choose you every time.”

Jess shifts in her seat, like the word Black is something dirty or uncomfortable.

White people like to pretend that race is only as deep as the color of our skin—maybe because the color of their skin gets them so many benefits.