“I’m a vegetarian.”
He grinned, shrugging his shoulders. “Want a hot dog bun?”
I laughed but shook my head. “No, thanks.” He walked up to the vendor anyway and ordered two water bottles. He handed one to me. I was completely parched, so I thanked him for the drink as we walked.
“Tell me about friend number one and two.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I like to know who my competition is.”
“It’s not like if they stop being my friend, I’ll have a place for you. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Okay, then tell me how they managed to attach themselves to you. I want some inside information.”
I laughed at Ethan’s odd way of putting things. He didn’t think like most people. I liked that about him. “Rachael and I are both from Mashpee.”
“So, you were friends in high school?”
“No, we were in different circles.” In actuality, by the time Rachael moved to Mashpee, I didn’t have a circle at all. “When my father found out she was coming here, and who her father was, he insisted we room together. He managed to talk her parents into it.”
“Who’s her father?”
I glanced away nervously, unsure if Rachael wanted me to share this, but it didn’t make sense to lie either. “Her dad’s a preacher.”
Ethan’s blue eyes widened, and his mouth opened in surprise. “Really?”
Rachael was known as a party girl, not that she wasn’t brilliant. Everyone at Stanford was super smart, but Rachael had a reputation for drinking, partying, and sleeping around. Unfortunately, it was earned.
“Yes, I know it doesn’t fit. Her parents think she’s a perfect angel. In fact, my parents think so too. So, as strict Indian parents, they were only too happy to have their child room with a preacher’s daughter. They thought we’d keep each other in line under the devilish California sun.”
“That’s some sweet irony. So, you guys became friends?”
“At first, we hated each other. I tried to change room assignments right away.” It’s weird how easy it is to talk to him. Too easy.
“What changed?”
“We’re extremely different, but somewhere along the way, we discovered we could be friends…best friends. I know the real Rachael, and we support each other. It works.”
“I get it. What about Raj?”
“He’s Indian.”
“So, that’s why you’re friends? Are you telling me if I were Indian, I would have an automatic in?”
I laughed. “It’s not that simple. He started sitting with me in the cafeteria. I had no idea what his deal was. Finally, I asked him why he didn’t sit with the other Indian kids that all seemed to be best friends with each other. He just looked at me and said, ‘Why don’t you?’ That was all it took. We didn’t really fit anywhere else, so we found each other. It took him a while to trust me with his secret, and Rachael too. But now the three of us are best friends.”
“Why didn’t you fit anywhere else?” he asked with curious concern.
I shrugged, wondering how he managed to ask such a simple question with so much intensity. “I just didn’t feel it. Neither did Raj…nor Rachael. We’re kind of misfits. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“You’re right. I’ve always been the most popular guy around. I have this magnetism that attracts people to me.”
I gaped at him, shocked by his ego, until he started smiling.
“I mean, look how well it’s working with you. You can’t keep your hands off me.”
I stifled my giggle, but it escaped anyway.
He paused, taking a strand of my hair and placing it behind my ear. His finger lingered there before trailing down my neck. “You have a pretty laugh, Sunshine.” The giggle died in my throat, interrupted by my sudden need to calm my ragged breaths. My expression must have conveyed my discomfort because he backed away.
“Do you play rugby lot?” I asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.
“Not really. I was filling in for someone. I like rugby, but it’s not my first choice.”
“What is this place?” I asked, looking around at the acres of marshland surrounding us.
“Baylands Nature Preserve. I love this place. It’s peaceful. I have a park behind my house in New York. This is way different, of course, but in some ways it reminds me of home.”
His accent wasn’t quite New York. Some words were sharp with an East Coast inflection, but there was also a slow, raspy drawl at times, which I could not place. It was the sexiest combination I’d ever heard.
“This is beautiful,” I said, staring at the tranquil lake.
“Mostly, it’s a place to bird-watch, but you can kayak or wind surf on this lake.”
“You’re from New York?”
“Among other places,” he replied.
“California’s really different, huh?”
He shrugged his shoulders and placed our bags next to a bench by the lake. I sat beside him. “Not that different. The sun sets differently, the weather’s nicer, and there’s more grass, but the people, well…the people are the same wherever you live.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, people pretty much all want the same thing.”
“And what’s that?”
He looked at me, and I could feel my pulse quicken as I stared into his bottomless blue eyes. “Happiness.”
I turned my concentration toward the swans gliding majestically on the lake. They were as graceful as Ethan was on the rugby field. I loved swans in general. It amazed me how they always traveled together, and how they formed a perfect heart when they kissed. They were the original lovebirds.
“That’s very simplistic,” I responded, shuffling my legs nervously.
“It’s the most basic need in its simplest form, yet it’s the empirical sum of all logic.”
“Do you always think in terms of math?”
“I guess I do. I love math—not just solving problems, but the applications. My mind just likes the organization of it. I know it’s weird.”
“I don’t think it’s weird that you think that way, but it’s strange you feel like people are the same everywhere. There’s too much cultural diversity for such a simple statement.”
I thought he might start arguing with me, but he just smiled.
“Do you think it’s wrong to date people outside of your race?”
I almost choked on my water. I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth in the most unladylike fashion. “Where did that question come from?”
“I’m just trying to make conversation. I know you don’t date, and I get that. I’m not trying to change your mind, but I am very curious about the reason.”
I struggled with my words. He was patient, waiting for me to respond. I brought my legs up on the bench, wrapping my arms around them in an effort to shield myself from the penetration of his intense gaze. “There is something to be said for being with people who have the same values, ethics, and motivations. It would definitely avoid the drama of dating someone outside your ethnicity.”
“You really think so?”
“I know you don’t share my opinion. It’s not popular.”
“I don’t share it, but it has nothing to do with popularity. My opposition is rooted in science. The discipline you’ve chosen as a matter of fact.”
I turned to him, perplexed. “Come again?”
“You know the rules of workplace discrimination in economics?”
“Of course I know it. I’m an economics major.”
“So, then, you know why.”
“No, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re applying an economic theory to…dating?”
“It applies. Go ahead…tell me the answer to every freshman’s first term paper in economics. Why shouldn’t employers discriminate? I know you know this.”
I shook my head, unsure of the connection.
“You’ve forgotten Econ one-oh-one already?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Of course I knew the concept. I had written numerous papers on it. “You shouldn’t discriminate in the workplace because it lowers your pool of potential applicants.”
“And why is that wrong?”
“Because it yields less than desirable results when looking for the best qualified person.”
“Exactly. I mean, if you limit yourself, then you may have lost the chance to find the ideal mate, right? An opportunity cost.”
“You’re using that term wrong,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, I’m not an economics major. I don’t know everything.”
“No, you don’t.” He baits me, and I fall for it. My plan was to avoid him, and here I was having a deep philosophical conversation about dating outside of my race. Truthfully, I didn’t want to think of those things or talk about them, especially with Ethan Callahan.
“You like the swans. You’ve been watching them.”
I was grateful for the change of subject. “They’re beautiful. I like how they come in pairs.”
“Let’s name them. They can be our swans.”
I laughed. “We don’t own them.”
“You don’t have to own something to make it yours. I name the male Isaac.”
“For Isaac Newton?”
Ethan nodded, smiling widely.
“You would name him after a mathematician.”
“I’m glad you recognize Newton as a mathematician. Not many people do. What do you name the female?”
I said the first name that came to mind. “Suzanne.”
“Is she a famous economist?”
I shook my head, feeling slightly more comfortable. “No, Suzanne Valadon was a famous French painter. She’s one of my favorites.”
“I’m at a disadvantage. You obviously know all about Isaac. Tell me about Suzanne.” He appeared genuinely interested.
“She was crazy, but she found beauty in that. She was Renoir’s muse for a while. I think she was the first woman to paint a nude. She would work on a single painting for ten, sometimes thirteen, years to get it right. She was a perfectionist, and she fed her cats caviar.”
Ethan nodded approvingly. “Sounds like a good name for a lady swan.” He gestured toward the two birds, swimming in synchronistic perfection. “Our names match.”
“How?”
“Isaac was somewhere between genius and crazy too. It’s a fine line. Isaac and Suzanne are good names. Swans are crazy in general…crazy mean. I was attacked by a swan once.”
“No!” I giggled, cupping my mouth.
He feigned a hurt look, but his eyes were twinkling with mischief. “That’s nice. Just go ahead and laugh at my traumatic childhood memory.” I laughed harder. “It was my fault. I was six and very stupid. I was swimming in their territory. The males are very protective of their mates. I deserved it.”
“Of course he would be protective. They mate for life. If you had hurt the female, he’d have no one. Isaac needs Suzanne.”
“Isaac and Suzanne are totally safe from me. After that swan pecked my forehead, I’ve learned to appreciate them from afar.”
The image of a curious, young Ethan pecked by a swan made me smile in the sappiest way.
“It is kind of cool…the mating for life thing,” he continued. “There are so few species that mate for life.”
I turned and stared at him, feeling my heart flutter by his very close presence. His hand twitched a bit, like it wanted to grab mine. Was he feeling the same charge of electricity I was? I wanted to be honest with him. After I told him, he would probably rather hang out with a swan.
“That’s why I love them. They are just like me.”
He didn’t seem frazzled by what I’d said. He was quiet, soaking in my words. Rachael told me statements like this were the fastest way to get a guy to leave you alone, but Ethan didn’t even seem surprised. “You mate for life, Meena?”
“My people do.”
“Economists?” he asked with an amused grin.
“Very funny.”
“Are you saying there are no Indian divorces?” His question sounded genuine.
“There are exceptions to every rule, but we do have the lowest divorce rate in the world.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“It’s culturally discouraged.”
He nodded. “Maybe it should be here too. But is that really the only reason? It makes it sound like it’s very difficult to get yourself out of a bad situation.”
“It’s difficult, but usually not impossible. That’s not the only reason. I think the marriages, in general, are stronger and more stable.”
“What makes them stronger? Religion? Culture?”
I was quiet for a moment, contemplating my response.
“Come on, the answer to the Western woes of wedlock could be solved by this very conversation. Surely, you have a theory.”
“Two words—arranged marriage.”
His eyebrows shot up. I had finally surprised him, but he didn’t hesitate with his next question. “People still do that?”
“It’s not as common as it was, but it’s not uncommon either. Most Hindu marriages are the result of an arrangement.”
“I don’t know anyone who would want to get married like that.”
I sucked in a deep breath but didn’t let my eyes waver from his. “Yes, you do.”
This time he choked on his water. “Seriously?” he asked, now wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
I nodded in response.
“Why?”
“Why not? Thousands of years of culture and current statistics prove it works. It’s what my parents and my grandparents did and generations before them. Why wouldn’t I want to invest my future in something I know has a strong rate of success?”
“I’m no romantic, but it sounds too grounded in fact, not feeling. Where’s the passion, the spontaneity, the—”
“Love?”
“Sure, love. I was going to say chemistry, but love works too.”
“Those are amorous ideas that work well in books and movies, but obviously, we know from current data they don’t work in the real world.”
“Do you already know who you’re marrying?” His hand clenched into a tight fist, and he looked away, far off into the distance.
I was discussing my arranged marriage plans with Ethan Callahan. How had we gotten here? “No, I haven’t met him yet.”
He exhaled next to me. “How do you know he’ll be right for you?” Ethan’s voice lacked its normal amusement.
“I know we’ll have similar backgrounds. He’ll be successful. Our families will both approve of our union. Even our stars will match up.”
“Your stars? You’re basing the most important decision in your life…on astrology?”
I did not appreciate the incredulous quality of his voice, even if that voice dripped with sexiness.
“It’s one of many factors, yes.”
“So, if he fits all that criteria, it’s a done deal?”
“It’s not that simple. Women aren’t objects. My family’s modern. I’ll interview him. I can ask him anything, and I have veto power.”
“Veto power?”
“Yes, I can deny anyone I don’t like. It’s kind of cool in a way. I can ask any question, no matter how private. I can ask them how much they make, what their deepest fears are, who they idolize. Things that might take you twenty dates to figure out, I’ll know in one meeting.”
Ethan shook his head, keeping his eyes fixed on the lake. “You’re missing the best part, Sunshine.”
“What’s that?”
He ran his fingers through his hair, and it miraculously managed to fall right back in place. I had to look away from him. Ethan’s voice was quiet, but his words coursed through me like a physical presence, gravelly and deep. “It’s not the knowing. It’s the finding out.”
“It’s the best of both. I’ll know, and I’ll find ou
t more. You probably think I’m really weird, but I know this is right for me.”
“Yes, I think you’re weird, but I’m not so intolerant that I can’t consider all the pros of your argument although I oppose it. Were you telling me all this to scare me off, or did you want to share a part of yourself with me?” His honesty shocked me. He seemed to understand my motivations better than I did.
“I’m not sure.”
He turned toward me, smiling, but there was no joy in it. “I don’t scare easily,” he said. “I was attacked by a swan once.”
Chapter 5
MY CONVERSATION WITH ETHAN preyed on my mind in the coming weeks. He still sat next to me in class and joked with me, but he didn’t ask me out again. In many ways, I felt more comfortable with him, despite my growing attraction. I was as uptight as pressurized coal morphing into a diamond, but Ethan’s carefree and fun attitude was hard to resist.
He seemed like a complete oddball. A hot, free-spirited math guy with a great sense of humor. He seemed too good to exist. He was too tempting. I could dream about him, though. That was acceptable as long as I didn’t act. I justified it to myself as I made my way to my room. After spending several hours at the library, I was exhausted, ready to crawl into bed, and looking forward to dreaming.
Instead, I opened my door and let out a small shriek. There was Rachael, naked and sitting on top of a boy I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t Keith.
“Oh, Meena, why did you come in?” Rachael gasped.
“You didn’t have the bra on the door!” I yelled. The lacy, hot pink, polka dot bra that was too big for Rachael and too small for me was our universal code for “do not disturb.” We bought it together at some bargain-basement sale, figuring it would fit one of us. No such luck, but we both loved it and cursed our bodies for not fitting into the adorable thing. Rachael had found another use for it.
“I forgot. Can you give us a minute?”
“Just a minute?” the mystery man underneath Rachael groaned.
“Half an hour?” Rachael pleaded. I made a disgusted grunt, realizing they were still in the act. I ran out, slamming the door behind me, not wanting to converse with Rachael while she was…occupied.
I had never seen anything like that. I felt overwhelmingly traumatized and disturbed. As shocking as it was, though, a small part of me was intrigued. Rachael had shared so many sexual stories, I felt somewhat knowledgeable, but the School of Rachael was not necessarily the best education, and it certainly hadn’t prepared me for this.
Variables of Love Page 5
