Laila had burst into tears. “What are you crying for?” He'd strapped his leg back on.
“You asked to see it, you giryanok, you crybaby! If I'd known you were going to bawl, I wouldn't have shown you.”
“A stamp,” he said. “What?” “The riddle. The answer is a stamp. We should go to the zoo after lunch.”
“You knew that one. Did you?” “Absolutely not.” “You're a cheat.” “And you're envious.” “Of what?” “My masculine smarts.”
“Your masculine smarts? Really? Tell me, who always wins at chess?” “I let you win.” He laughed.
They both knew that wasn't true. “And who failed math? Who do you come to for help with your math homework even though you're a grade ahead?”
“I'd be two grades ahead if math didn't bore me.” “I suppose geography bores you too.”
“How did you know? Now, shut up. So are we going to the zoo or not?”
Laila smiled. “We're going.” “Good.” “I missed you.”
There was a pause. Then Tariq turned to her with a half-grinning, half-grimacing look of distaste. “What's the matter with you?”
How many times had she, Hasina, and Giti said those same three words to each other, Laila wondered,
said it without hesitation, after only two or three days of not seeing each other?
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