A Thousand Splendid Suns

"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? / missed you, Hasina Oh, I
missed you too. In Tariq's grimace, Laila learned that boys differed from
girls in this regard. They didn't make a show of friendship. They felt no
urge, no need, for this sort of talk. Laila imagined it had been this way
for her brothers too. Boys, Laila came to see, treated friendship the way
they treated the sun: its existence undisputed; its radiance best enjoyed,
not beheld directly.