Tell Me How You Really Feel by Aminah Mae Safi

Tell Me How

Tell Me How You Really Feel by Aminah Mae Safi
English | 2019 | Young Adult, Romance | LGBT | ePUB | 565 Kb

Tell Me How : Aminah Mae Safi’s Tell Me How You Really Feel is an ode to romantic comedies, following two girls on opposite sides of the social scale as they work together to make a movie and try very hard not to fall in love.

The first time Sana Khan asked out a girl–Rachel Recht–it went so badly that she never did it again. Rachel is a film buff and aspiring director, and she’s seen Carrie enough times to learn you can never trust cheerleaders (and beautiful people). Rachel was furious that Sana tried to prank her by asking her on a date.

But when it comes time for Rachel to cast her senior project, she realizes that there’s no more perfect lead than Sana–the girl she’s sneered at in the halls for the past three years. And poor Sana–she says yes. She never did really get over that first crush, even if Rachel can barely stand to be in the same room as her.

Told in alternative viewpoints and set against the backdrop of Los Angeles in the springtime, when the rainy season rolls in and the Santa Ana’s can still blow–these two girls are about to learn that in the city of dreams, anything is possible–even love.

“But Sana didn’t break. “So why me? You know I speak Urdu and Hindi and Bengali. And Farsi, if that matters at all. You know I’ve got the grades. You probably even know I got into Princeton, even though I turned in my application with you before I’d heard back from them. But honestly, why me? Because I need to know that the future I’m banking on isn’t just good in theory. I need to know it’s not just good on paper.” Sana might have fudged that a little. Urdu was Hindi after all. But the interviewer didn’t need to know that.

The interviewer bit the inside of her cheek—but Sana wasn’t sure if that was to bite back a smile or a grimace. It didn’t matter anymore, anyhow. She’d told someone. She’d told the truth, and the truth was the one thing she’d never confessed to anyone. Not to Dadu or Mom. Not to Mamani or even her father.

Sana swallowed. One more hard thing left to say. “I know I’m good at becoming a doctor—the tests and the classes and the science. But I don’t know if being a doctor would be a good thing—for me or for my patients. I’d like to figure that out.”

“That is, without a doubt, the most selfish answer I have ever heard.” But there was no malice in the interviewer’s voice. She remained neutral—her tone, her expressions, her manners. She’d clearly been doing this for a long time.

“I know.” Sana nodded. “But I thought I’d tell the truth.”

The interviewer leaned in, over the clipboard she’d been writing on. “And why on earth would you do that?”

Sana shrugged. “Everything I’ve gotten in life has been because of hard work and talent and some luck, but mostly this one assumption—that I would be a doctor. I don’t want the position on those terms. I want the position knowing I got it, even if I’ve got doubts.”

“And that’s your final answer?” The woman looked at her clipboard, then back at Sana. Still unreadable, still inscrutable.”

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