by Sabina Khan
“That’s just it. I’ve always talked to them about this stuff, but it’s like they can’t see beyond the church. It’s as if that’s the only thing they understand.”
“I know what you mean. My mom and dad know people like that too. They can’t open their minds and see that there are people who are hurting just for wanting to be who they are.”
“I know, right? It’s so frustrating trying to get through to them. I mean, I’m one of those people and they simply refuse to see it.”
Chloe stares down at the bowl between us, and since I don’t know what else I can say to make her feel better, I don’t say anything while we finish our frozen yogurt. It’s a comfortable silence though, and I kind of like this. Being friends with someone who’s committed to the same thing as I am, that’s important to me, and I’m glad that I can be there for her.
“I’m sorry, I wish I could be more help,” I say after our bowl is empty and the sky is turning a deep orange. I take a deep breath. “Hey, do you want to watch a movie later?”
When she doesn’t reply right away, I panic.
“Priya invited me and Nick over,” I add quickly. “It might get your mind off everything.”
She hesitates.
“Are you sure your friends won’t mind?” she says.
“Not at all,” I say. They better not.
Chloe smiles. “Then yes, I’d love to.”
I text Priya to let her know that I’m bringing Chloe. Priya lives on Ocean Drive in her parents’ mansion. As I pull up on their driveway, the front door opens and Priya pops her head out, waving for us to come in. She’s wearing one of her signature T-shirts. Tonight, it’s a black one that says, YOU’RE THE IDLI TO MY SAMBAR. Underneath the letters is a picture of a platter of steaming rice cakes next to a bowl of spicy lentils.
I grin at her. “Your mom is the best.”
Chloe looks utterly confused as we step into the cool interior. Gita Aunty, Priya’s mom, greets us and ushers us to the dining table. She has to be the most effervescent person I’ve ever met. She also makes the best South Indian food, and as I cleverly guessed from Priya’s T-shirt, she’s made idli sambar for us to enjoy before we settle in for the movie. I should have given Chloe a heads-up not to eat beforehand. Gita Aunty would have a conniption if she didn’t eat anything. As we dip the steamy, fluffy rice cakes in the spicy lentil-and-vegetable soup, I feel a little sorry for Chloe, who’s actually being quite the trouper despite the fact that her face has turned an alarming shade of red. The way I look at it though, the very least that white people can do after colonizing our subcontinent for hundreds of years is appreciate our flavorful cuisine.
Gita Aunty is happily humming along to a Bollywood video playing on the TV. I notice Chloe watching the video in between gulps of ice water.
“You’ve never watched a Bollywood movie, have you?” Priya asks as we’re finishing up.
“I saw one at my friend Tina’s house once,” Chloe says. “It had subtitles.”
“Tina Pereira?” Gita Aunty pipes up from the kitchen, where she’s pulling out the idli maker from the pot.
“Yes, do you know her?” Chloe asks.
“Yeah, Mom, do you know her?” Priya echoes with a grin.
It’s funny because Priya’s mom knows everyone. Or at least everyone who’s desi. She works for an NGO and is known for her legendary parties. I’m pretty sure every desi from here to Houston has been to her house at one time or another.
“Of course I know her,” Gita Aunty says, placing a platter of freshly steamed idli on the table. Chloe looks a little scared. She’s picked up on Gita Aunty’s biological imperative to force-feed her guests.
“Is her mom the one who had a nose job?” Priya asks.
“Priya,” Gita Aunty says sternly. “We’re not supposed to talk about it.”
“I knew it,” Chloe says under her breath.
Gita Aunty has turned away to ladle more sambar into a bowl.
The three of us grin at one another.
“So, what’s the name of this movie you watched with Tina?” I ask.
“Something and Sons,” Chloe says, biting her lip. “I don’t remember, but it’ll come to me.”
Priya and I exchange a look.
“You mean Kapoor & Sons, right?” I say.
“Yes, that’s the one,” Chloe says. “It was pretty good.”
“I’m sorry, excuse me?” Priya stands and puts her hand on her hip. “Pretty good?”
Chloe looks at me in alarm.
“It’s okay, Chloe … but I’m afraid we can’t be friends anymore,” I say, appearing perfectly serious.
“Wha—”
“Well, not if you’re going to diss Fawad Khan in my presence, young lady,” Priya says. Then she breaks into a huge smile at the look of panic on Chloe’s face.
“Who’s dissing Fawad Khan?” a deep voice says from behind us. We all turn to see Nick standing by the door.
“Ah, Nick, it’s nice to see you.” Gita Aunty beams at him. “Come and have some idli sambar.”
“Thank you, Gita Aunty,” Nick says. “And yes, don’t mind if I do. I’m starving.”
“Are you ever not starving?” I ask him.
“Shut up, Zara,” he says, grabbing my plate, but I stop him just in time.
“Oh my God, get your own.”
“Children, stop fighting,” Priya says as Gita Aunty brings another plate for Nick.
Nick sticks out his tongue at me before turning to dazzle Gita Aunty with a smile. He’s such a child.
“So, have we decided what movie to watch?” I ask as we all watch Nick stuff his face.
“I’m up for anything,” Priya says unhelpfully.
“Well, good. Then it’s decided,” I say. “We’ll watch ANYTHING. Where’s it playing? Somewhere?”
“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious,” Priya says. “Why don’t you just decide as usual?”
“Look, if you could pick for once or Nick could take a break from scarfing down food, maybe I wouldn’t have to decide all the time, isn’t that right?” I say.
“I thought we were watching a Fawad Khan movie,” Nick says, looking up from his plate.
“That’s actually a really great idea,” Priya says.
“Mhmm.” Nick is back to dunking and slurping.
“I’m game if you all are,” I say, looking mostly at Chloe, who appears to be a little shell-shocked from all the banter flying around.
“Sure, sounds great to me.”
“Okay, then,” I say, rubbing my hands gleefully.
Priya puts on Khoobsurat. While she and I have always lamented the many Bollywood films in which the female lead is merely eye candy, we have absolutely no problem with a brooding Fawad Khan cast in the same role. His stylish outfits and Mr. Darcy–like demeanor have us all but drooling on our popcorn. Chloe’s eyes are glued to the screen every single time he appears in a scene, and Priya and I have resorted to throwing popcorn at her hair to prove how oblivious she is to everything else in that moment.
Halfway through the movie, Nick sighs dramatically. He’s already seen this movie twice at my house. He gets up to grab some water in the kitchen and discreetly waves at me to come to him.
“Are you gonna watch the whole thing?” he whispers to me as I grab a glass from the cabinet.
“Um, yes, that’s generally how it works,” I say.
“Fine, it’s just that … I thought it was only going to be the three of us.”
“Chloe’s going through a really hard time,” I say softly. “What do you want me to do?”
Nick makes a face, and we go back to the living room to finish watching the movie.
* * *
I think Chloe has a good time … but it’s hard to tell. She says all the right things when we say goodbye to Priya and Nick, but I can also sense there’s something else underneath.
We talk a little about the movie as I drive her home. It’s not until I’m dropping her off in front of her house that she
turns to me and says, “Hey, I hope I didn’t mess up your plans for tonight.”
“No, not at all,” I answer quickly. “It was fun.”
“I just thought that Nick didn’t seem too happy.” She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and looks at me, her ridiculously long eyelashes casting a shadow on her cheeks.
“Don’t worry about it. He was just being a brat,” I say.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Are you two together or … ?” Her voice trails off as if she realizes that maybe she shouldn’t be asking.
“No, no—we’re just friends,” I say quickly. Very quickly. “We’ve known each other since we were five and hang out together a lot.”
“Oh, okay.” She studies her hands, and it feels like she’s going to say something else.
But then a light goes on inside her house, and she stiffens.
“I have to go,” she says, grabbing her bag. “Hey, thanks for the ride and the movie and … everything.” She opens the door and climbs out of the car.
“Anytime!” I call out. She gives a quick little wave and walks away. I wait until she’s inside before driving home.
Later, as I’m getting ready for bed, I can’t help wondering why she asked about me and Nick. I drift off to sleep with a picture of her beautiful brown eyes looking into mine.
“Priya’s waiting for us. You ready for lunch?” I ask Nick as we walk out of English class together the next day. It’s a nice day, not too muggy, so we start walking over to the baseball field. Tyler passes us on the way. I’m with Nick, so my stomach doesn’t churn as it usually does. But then Tyler makes an exploding motion with his hands just as we’re passing by, and I push down the urge to punch him in the throat. Nick, on the other hand, has no such reservations. He steps toward Tyler, menacing and ready to fight.
“Nick, don’t.” I grab his right arm and pull him back. “It’s not worth it.”
“Yeah, Garcia,” Tyler taunts. “Better listen to your girlfriend. Otherwise, you know—”
Nick lunges again, and I tighten my grip to keep him back.
Thankfully, Tyler walks away, and I release the breath I’ve been holding. Nick jerks his arm out of my reach and glares at me.
“Why did you stop me, Zara?” He’s breathing hard, and I can feel the anger coming off him in waves.
“Because I don’t want any trouble.”
“But why should he get away with it every single time?”
“Look,” I say forcefully, “I don’t need you to step in for me all the time. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, but … he’s such a jerk.” His eyes are still dark with anger.
“He’s not worth it, Nick,” I say, my tone gentler now, because I know exactly how he feels.
We keep on walking and join Priya, who’s already in our usual spot. Nick unwraps his lunch and looks over at me. We swap our lunches wordlessly while Priya watches with a bemused expression on her face.
“You two are so weird,” she says.
“What? I don’t feel like chutney sandwiches today,” I say. “And Nick has pizza.”
“Zawash mom maksh zha besh sad wishes,” Nick says.
“Huh?” Priya stares at him blankly.
I’m immensely grateful that Nick finishes chewing and swallows before speaking again.
“I was just saying that Zara’s mom makes the best sandwiches,” he says.
I grin at him, take a bite of my pizza, and wave my slice in the air.
“Thanks, dude. Jalapeños and onions. You know me so well.”
He throws a pack of gum my way. “You’re gonna need that.”
* * *
“Zara, Nick, come down. Dinner is ready!” Ammi calls up from the kitchen, and we hurry down because today is chicken quorma night and we’re starving. Nick came over so I could help him with chem and of course he’s invited himself to stay for dinner.
“How were the chutney sandwiches today, Nick?” Ammi asks innocently. Sometimes I could swear that she actually makes them more for Nick than for me.
“Really good, Aunty,” Nick replies. “And the quorma smells amazing.” He grabs the plate of hot, buttery naan Ammi is holding out and carries it to the table. Abbu walks into the kitchen, sniffs the air appreciatively, and brings the steaming serving dish over.
“Hi, Uncle,” Nick says.
Abbu pats Nick on the shoulder. “You haven’t been over for dinner for some time, Nick.”
“It’s been four days, Abbu. Calm down,” I say with a grin. Abbu loves it when Nick is over because then he has someone to watch and talk football with. Ammi grabs the salad, and we can finally dig in.
“So how was school?” Abbu asks, tearing off a piece of naan and dunking it in the gravy.
“It’s okay, just the usual,” I say.
I can feel Nick’s eyes burning a hole in my skull, but I ignore him, choosing instead to focus on the deliciousness in my mouth.
“How are things with that boy?” Ammi asks. “Has he been bothering you anymore?”
Nick makes a weird noise, and I swear to God he’d better be choking because if he says a word about what happened I’m going to shove a giant piece of naan down his throat.
“Are you okay there, Nick?” Abbu asks, handing him a glass of water.
“I’m fine,” Nick says brightly. “It’s just Tyler—”
I kick him hard under the table.
“Ouch. What was that for?”
Oh my God. He’s such an idiot.
I quickly take a gulp of water and swallow it very slowly. Everyone is looking at me strangely.
“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” I say reassuringly.
They’re not buying it. Nick will pay for this later.
“Zara, beta, please tell us if something is going on,” Ammi says, her face already worried. This is exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid.
“Ammi, Tyler’s just being stupid. Right, Nick?” I look pointedly at him.
Nick stares back at me, defiantly chewing his food, and says nothing.
Great. Now he decides to stay quiet.
“Nick, do you have something you’d like to share with us?” Abbu asks.
“Tyler did something again today,” Nick says quietly. He avoids looking directly at me.
“Did what exactly?” Abbu says, still calm. It takes a lot to get him riled up.
“He just always makes these, you know, racist comments, and then today he did this—”
He makes the exploding gesture, and Abbu’s face darkens.
“I’m going to talk to your principal and sit down with this boy and his parents,” Abbu says. “Until then, you be careful.”
Soon it’s the weekend, and I’m heading to the library to study for my chem test. I’m not too thrilled about the fact that Abbu and Nick have taken over the living room and are watching the game. Between their yelling at the TV every few minutes and Ammi’s obsession with her new Ninja blender, I can’t hear myself think, so I’ve exiled myself. The sun is blazing hot as usual and it’s a relief to enter the cool interior of the library. I look for a quiet spot, and I’m making a beeline for one in the far corner by the bay window when I spot Chloe sitting in one of the study carrels.
I sneak up behind her and tap her on the shoulder. She jumps and screams, earning me a glare from the person beside her. He smugly points at the big sign with bold letters that proclaims this area to be for quiet study. Calm down, dude.
“What are you doing here?” Chloe whispers as I put my stuff down on the table to her right. The big Z charm on my purse makes a loud clanging sound, and Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass sighs dramatically.
Chloe throws him an apologetic smile and glares at me.
“I can’t study at home,” I tell her. “Football.”
She nods. “Do you usually come here to study?”
“No, not really. I need to be in my own space.”
She looks at my books
. “I come here all the time. This is my usual spot.”
“Cool.” I’m not sure why I can’t think of anything else to say. I just stand there like a complete idiot.
“So, chem, huh? Me too. I have a test coming up.”
“Same. Acids and bases?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I guess we’re on pretty much the same timeline.”
“Do you want to study together?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. The truth is that I’ve been thinking about her a great deal.
We move to another section to be away from Grumpy Guy.
“I’m having a really hard time understanding titrations,” Chloe says after we’ve been working on problems for a while.
“Well, lucky for you, I’m here,” I say with a grin. I’m glad Nick isn’t here right now because he would be rolling his eyes at my dorky attempt at flirting. I know that I have absolutely no game, but this is the best I can do.
I work through a couple of questions with her, and then she’s good for the rest. A couple of hours later, she puts down her pen and stretches. I look up, and she smiles at me.
“Hey, thanks for helping me understand this stuff,” she says. “I really can’t afford to do badly on this test.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great,” I say. I reach over and squeeze her hand gently. “Don’t worry so much.”
“I just really need to get away from here, you know,” she says. “For college.”
“Have you thought about where you want to go?”
“As far away from here as possible,” she answers without hesitation. “Just someplace where I can breathe.”
“Things are still pretty bad at home?” My hand is still on top of hers, and she doesn’t move it away or anything.
“You know what?” she says suddenly. “Let’s take a break and get frozen yogurt.”
“Sounds great to me. Scoopz?” I ask hopefully.
“Of course. Where else?”
Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting in a corner booth with our bowls in front of us. Once again, we go for sour gummies.
“I feel like we’re soul mates,” I say as I pop a couple of red gummies in my mouth.
