There's Something About Sweetie

by Sandhya Menon

  As they trooped outside to lunch, the girls came running up, their faces anxious. It was clear they’d been watching the back door like hawks. “So?” Kayla asked. “How’d it go? You need us to drive your getaway mobile?”

  Sweetie laughed as her family passed her on the way to the food table. Ashish was hanging back, a few paces away, trying to give her her privacy. “No. It went well. Really, really well.”

  Her friends, her girls, grinned at her. And then they were all hugging and laughing. “Yo, Ass-sheesh!” Izzy called. “You’re one of us now. Okay?”

  “Does that mean your shoes are staying on?” he called back dryly.

  “My mom ordered a lot of food, you guys,” Sweetie said, laughing. “Please eat or she’ll be foisiting heaping plates on you before long.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Suki said, and she led the charge to the buffet table.

  Once they were gone, Sweetie turned to Ashish, a shy smile on her face. “You know, you’re not so bad at laying it on thick. That speech you gave in the study? Impressive.”

  “And I didn’t even have to play my ‘cute butt’ trump card.” Ashish took her hand. “Seriously though, I wasn’t laying it on thick. Everything I said, I meant. One hundred percent. I’m the luckiest guy on the planet, Sweetie. Actually, scratch that. I’m the luckiest guy in the multiverse.”

  Sweetie felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Forget Ashish. How on earth had she gotten so lucky?

  They decided to leave for prom directly from the birthday party. By the time the last guests had cleared out and Sweetie had opened all the presents (Ashish had given her a simple silver chain, no pendant, which, while beautiful, left her a little disappointed at its genericness), Amma was totally on board with the prom plan.

  “I cannot believe he asked you using parrots!” she said as she helped Sweetie do up her hair. Anjali Chechi was redoing her makeup.

  Ashish and his parents were out at their car, conferring about something, while Jason Chettan and Achchan were downstairs talking.

  Sweetie snorted and adjusted Ashish’s silver chain around her throat. “Yeah, it was sort of a disaster. But aren’t you glad I’m going to prom?”

  “I’m very glad.” Amma finished up and stood back to admire her handiwork. “But you’re not going with Sheena in her limo?”

  Sweetie pulled a face as Anjali Chechi finished putting on the blush and then snapped the case closed. “No. I think we’re just taking Ashish’s Jeep.”

  “Sweetie!” Achchan called from downstairs. His voice held a barely suppressed glee. “Come down!”

  Amma, Anjali Chechi, and she exchanged curious glances. “Let’s go see what’s going on,” Amma said, shaking her head.

  When they got outside, Ashish was standing beside a bright-pink limo, dressed in a tux. He grinned a little nervously as Sweetie stepped down and walked up to him. “What on earth?” she said. “Ashish, you know we could’ve just taken your Jeep!”

  “Ah, it was sort of Ma and Pappa’s present,” he said, gesturing to where they stood, beaming happily. “As was the tux, which came in the limo, and … this.” He reached through the open window and pulled out a corsage.

  “Pink peonies,” Sweetie said, smiling. “My favorite.”

  Amma’s voice stilled Ashish’s hands, which were taking the corsage out of the container. “Wait, wait!” Amma, Achchan, Anjali Chechi, and Jason Chettan came hurrying down the walk. “We have to take photos, Sweetie!”

  Sweetie muffled a laugh. “Of course.”

  “Oh, us too!” Sunita auntie said, hurrying over with Kartik uncle in tow, his phone at the ready.

  “Oh God,” Ashish whispered to Sweetie, and she said, from behind her smile, “Be nice. It’ll be over soon.”

  And it was. Once the parental units had taken pictures of (a) Ashish putting the corsage on Sweetie’s wrist, (b) Sweetie adjusting the corsage, (c) Sweetie admiring the corsage, (d) Sweetie and Ashish smiling totally fakely, and (e) Ashish helping Sweetie into the limo, they were alone.

  Sweetie sank against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. “Oh. Em. Gee. I feel like I could sleep for a decade.”

  Ashish said, “And I could look at you for a decade.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled shyly at him in the dark interior of the car. “It’s over,” she said, noting the tone of disbelief in her own voice. “They’re all on board with us dating. It’s official. No more hiding.”

  Ashish grinned. “No more hiding. So I can do this without worrying who might see.” He reached over and took her hand.

  “And I can do this without worrying who might see,” she said, smiling and putting her head on his shoulder.

  “And I can do one more thing,” Ashish said, making her lift her head at his mysterious tone. “But I won’t let anyone see.”

  As he took her in his arms, holding her so tight it was like he was reassuring himself that she was really there, like they were really in this moment, Sweetie couldn’t stop smiling. And when their lips met, she knew what happiness tasted like.

  CHAPTER 34

  Ashish was nervous now. He’d been building up so much for this afternoon that he hadn’t given much thought to after. He hadn’t wanted to give much thought to after, to be honest, because what if it didn’t work out? What if he’d had to go home and chill with Netflix and a bucket of cheese popcorn?

  But now here he was, with the most beautiful girl in the world next to him, dancing to the cheesiest songs a DJ could possibly have picked. “Dancing Queen”? Come on.

  Sweetie waved a hand in his face. “Hey. Where are you?”

  He looked back down at her and his heart constricted. Oh God. He was seriously going to have a heart attack. Ashish Patel was going to have a heart attack because he was nervous around a girl. It was hilarious. Ashish was the king of romantic gestures. Elijah always asked his advice on what to do for Oliver when important dates rolled around (Valentine’s Day, Oliver’s birthday, National Pancake Day; the last was sort of their thing—long story). Ashish forced a smile. “Ah, here?” He cleared his throat. “Hey, are you, um, enjoying the music?”

  Sweetie smiled. Oof. That dimple. “It’s not bad.” Then she studied his face. “But we can leave if you want to?”

  “Ah, actually, I was thinking we could take a walk,” Ashish said.

  “A walk.” Sweetie pulled back to look at him, a small smile on her face. “Where?”

  “Just … around.” He adjusted his bow tie. Oh God. He really was going to pass out. Why had he enlisted Pinky in this? What had he been thinking? This was going to be a total disaster. Sweetie was going to dump him on the spot.

  “Ashish Patel, what are you up to?”

  He looked into Sweetie’s eyes and the panic came on like a tsunami. “You know w-what? Actually, let’s just, uh, let’s stay here. I don’t really feel like a walk.”

  Sweetie put one hand on her hip and, after a pause, pulled him off the dance floor over to the punch bowl. “You’re up to something and now you’re chickening out. I can tell.”

  He poured himself a cup of punch and downed it in two gulps. “Okay,” he said. “You’re right. I … There’s this … I don’t know if you’ll hate it.”

  Sweetie looked at him seriously. “Ashish, whatever it is, I promise you I won’t hate it. Now, take me there before I hit you.”

  He held up his hands. “There’s no need for violence, Miss Nair.”

  She put her hand in the crook of his arm and allowed him to lead her outside.

  They walked around the side of the building, their shoes crunching in the gravel. Ashish glanced down at her pretty red toes. “Are you sure you can walk in those heels?”

  “Yeah.” Sweetie waved him off with her free hand. “Years of experience.”

  They were silent as the sound of the dance petered out, whisked off in the gentle breeze. The hazy moon winked at them.

  “So, I want you to know …,” Ashish began as the Piedmont track loomed
up in front of them. “We’ve only been dating for a month, which to a lot of people is hardly any time at all, but … I feel really strongly about you.”

  Sweetie laid her head on his arm. “Me too.”

  “I think you’re one of those people who’s going to do amazing things with their life.” He licked his lips, feeling ridiculously nervous as they neared the opening in the chain-link fence. “And I’m so grateful you’re letting me be part of it, Sweetie.”

  “I’m glad you’re part of it,” she answered, her voice serious and completely sincere. Ashish’s heart thumped with painful, stupid love. She paused as they walked through the opening and passed the bleachers on the way to the track. “Oh, we’re at the track—what’s that?”

  His pulse pounding, Ashish led her closer. He turned to her and took her hands, walking backward as she walked forward, her eyes shining. “This is where we first met. When you challenged me to a duel and slew my heart.”

  Sweetie tinkled a laugh that was all silver and music. “It wasn’t a duel,” she said, rolling her eyes, though she was still grinning. Then she looked down, under their feet. “Are these flower petals?”

  “Yes,” Ashish said, and then added quickly as she bent down, “But don’t examine them too closely. Pinky being Pinky, she wouldn’t let me use fresh flower petals. So we went to some florist after hours and took all their old, janky flowers they didn’t sell. …” It occurred to him that that wasn’t the most romantic story he could’ve told. “Uh, anyway.” He helped her back up. Putting his hands on the sides of her face, he gazed deep into those bottomless hazel eyes. “Sweetie, I love you. I thank the universe or the fates or whoever’s in charge every day for bringing you to me.”

  “Ashish.” She sighed, her sweet breath blowing over his chin, leaving him slightly dazed. “Me too. I’m so glad your dad made us sign those contracts.”

  He laughed and reached into the pocket of his tux. “I have something for you. It’s sort of the second part of your birthday present, but I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone else.” He brought out the square deep-blue velvet box and opened it.

  Her eyes went satisfyingly wide, and her lips parted in a small O.

  Ashish’s heart thrilled at the thought that she already liked it. She hadn’t even seen the best part yet.

  Sweetie gazed at the cameo pendant, nestled in inky-black silk. It was stunning, with a pale-turquoise background and a white figure on top. Sweetie frowned. There was something … Leaning forward, she reached out and carefully picked it up. The figure wasn’t a woman’s profile in silhouette, as they usually were on cameo pendants. This one featured a curvaceous fat woman standing triumphantly with her hands on her rounded hips, her feet apart, hair blowing in the wind. Sweetie grinned, delighted. “Oh! She’s so badass!”

  Ashish smiled. “Turn it over.”

  Sweetie did. On the back, inscribed there on the silver, were the words:

  sassy sweetie

  to know her is to love her

  Sweetie traced the words over with trembling fingers, watching as tears splashed onto them. She looked up at Ashish.

  He took a step forward, his face worried, those honey eyes searching. “Hey, it’s okay. If you don’t like it—”

  She put a hand on his cheek, smiling through her tears. “I love it. Ashish, this is … this is everything. You get me. You get all of me.”

  His face relaxing into a smile, Ashish cupped the back of her neck with a big, warm hand and drew her gently to him. “Obviously.”

  Sweetie laughed, a hiccuping, giddy thing. “Obviously.”

  They kissed, the smell of roses floating around them, encasing them in here, in now, in forever.

  EPILOGUE

  Sweetie ran across the finish line, her hands in the air. The crowd cheered; her entire body lit up with that intoxicating soup of endorphins and adrenaline. She’d done it. She faced the crowd, her hands still in the air, her grin as big and bright as it would go, enough to power the stadium, she was sure.

  She’d beaten her best time. The scout from UCLA was there, and Sweetie wasn’t even nervous. They’d want her. How could they not?

  Her eyes raked the audience in the bleachers, lighting on Amma’s and Achchan’s proud faces and then on Ashish’s. He was grinning and waving like mad, his hooting and hollering reaching her like he was standing right beside her. She laughed at the way the other parents were looking at him, this enthusiastic Piedmont track fan in his Richmond basketball uniform. They were headed to Richmond right after this; of course his game had to be on the same night as her race. But he’d come anyway.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” he’d said simply when she’d asked if he was sure.

  And after his game … the ultimate test. Sweetie swallowed. The scout didn’t make her nervous, but that did.

  This was it.

  It was the last game of the regular season, with only one basket between Ashish and state.

  Eleven seconds left. Oliver caught the rebound and looked to Ash for direction. With one eye on the clock, Ashish called the play and moved his team toward the basket.

  Nine seconds. Sharing a grin with Ash, Oliver turned and over-undered the ball to Elijah.

  Seven seconds. The defenders closed in on Elijah as Ash dodged into the open, calling for the ball.

  Four seconds. Elijah bounced to Ashish, relief all over his face.

  Two seconds. Ashish sprinted across the three-point line. The final basket. It was up to him.

  As Ashish ran, the sounds of the chanting crowd faded into an incoherent whooshing. There was only him and the ball. He had finally found it again—Balltopia. His blood buzzed with effervescent energy; once again Ashish felt completely in his element. The basketball court was his throne; in here, he was king. He’d reclaimed his place.

  Ashish threw the ball up into the air. A moment after it left his fingertips, the buzzer sounded, signaling time. The ball whirled through the air … and whooshed through the basket. Nothing but net.

  Ashish sank to his knees, his arms in the air, just as his teammates jumped on him, Oliver slapping his back and Elijah cheering so loudly, his ears were actually ringing. Through a break in the wall of bodies, he caught sight of Sweetie. She was crying and laughing at the same time, waving around a big foam finger. Ashish laughed and closed his eyes, relief and love and exhilaration washing through him.

  When he had a break from all the congratulating and screaming, he began to jog over to his family, but a brown-skinned woman in her midthirties stepped in front of him. She held out a hand. He shook it; her grip was firm.

  “Congrats on a game well played,” she said, smiling. “I’m Liesa Lopez, scouting for USC. Here’s my card. Call me and we’ll talk.”

  Ashish took the card and grinned. “Sounds great.”

  She nodded at him and slipped away.

  Laughing, Ashish ran over to his family.

  Ma grabbed him in a hug, saying “Shabash! Shabash, beta!” over and over again. Pappa patted him on the back and looked like he’d burst. Sweetie hugged him, whispering “Congrats, baby” in his ear. It sent a shiver up his spine in the best way.

  Then he turned to Rishi. And Dimple. His big brother stared at him, his eyes wide with wonder. “Dude,” he said finally. “Oh my gods. You’re, like, epic.”

  Ashish laughed, pleased. “Bhaiyya, Dimple, thank you for coming. Have you met Sweetie?”

  Rishi grinned at him. “We have.” Then, looking at Sweetie, he said, “You sure about this guy, though?”

  Ashish slapped him on the chest, and Rishi made a big show of almost keeling over.

  “You need to lay off the workouts, man,” he said, gasping theatrically.

  Behind her glasses, Dimple rolled her eyes. Turning to Sweetie, she said solemnly, “Welcome to dating a Patel brother. You are seriously in the best kind of trouble.”

  Sweetie laughed. “I’m getting that feeling.”

  Ashish bounced on the balls
of his feet, still feeling the adrenaline from his win and this whole situation here. He didn’t want to admit how much this meant to him. “So, bhaiyya,” he said, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt, “do we, um, do we have your aashirvad?”

  Rishi’s face got serious. Dimple looked from him to Ashish, a small smile on her face. Putting his hands on Ashish’s shoulders, Rishi said, “You and Sweetie have my utter and complete blessing, Ashish.”

  They hugged, Ashish patting Rishi on the back, hard, to keep from tearing up.

  When they broke apart, Dimple had linked her arm with Sweetie’s. “So,” she said, “what do you guys think of a double date?”

  Sweetie grinned. “Let’s do it.”

  As Ashish looked around at his family—and he didn’t care if it was silly, he totally included Sweetie under that umbrella—he thought, Life can’t get any more perfect than this.

  But they were young, and it did.

  Writing the first book in the Dimple universe felt like a dream come true. Getting to write the second book, featuring two of my most favorite characters I’ve ever written, felt like basking in the glow of a thousand silver stars while eating the sun. In other words, it made me happy.

  A big thank-you to the extraordinary team at Simon Pulse for being the warm and cozy home to my third young adult novel! Every writer should be so lucky to have a publishing house that feels like family. An especially big hug to Jen Ung, my editor, who helped me shape this book into what it is today and who totally got Sweetie from the beginning.

  Thank you also to my agent, Thao Le, for being the best and feistiest champion any writer could ever ask for. Having a sounding board you can trust in this business is nothing short of a lifeline.

  A huge shout-out to the splendiferous indies and booksellers out there, including my favorite fairy-god-book-people at: Anderson’s Bookshop; B&N San Mateo; Book Bar Denver; Books, Inc.; Books of Wonder; Brookline Booksmith; Changing Hands; Elliot Bay Book Co.; Hicklebee’s; Joseph-Beth; Kepler’s; Old Firehouse Books; Once Upon a Time; Parnassus Books; Porter Square; Red Balloon Bookshop; Ripped Bodice; Tattered Cover; Third Place Books; University Bookstore; and so many, many more!