CHAPTER 14
Once Ashish grabbed his book, they piled back into the Jeep and drove to Roast Me.
Samir followed in his car, and Ashish felt a little bad for him, always excluded from the group. It was tough, though. Samir spent his days at his house, while Ashish, Elijah, Oliver, and Pinky were together for eight hours a day every day at school and most weekends, too. Even when they did all hang out, it just wasn’t the same. Something always seemed off.
Like last summer when they’d all gone to Ashish’s parents’ mountain cabin and Samir had left early, right in the middle of a basketball game they were all playing. He said it was because he didn’t want his mom to worry, but they all knew the truth: Samir didn’t belong, and it was painfully obvious. Ashish wasn’t sure why Samir kept trying. Maybe because they were neighbors and Samir didn’t really have any other friends? Which was sad, Ashish guessed, in a way. Mostly annoying, though, because it made things awkward.
They got their usual table at the back of Roast Me, with a couch and an armchair. They had to add a chair for Samir, which Pinky didn’t look too happy about, but thankfully she didn’t say anything Pinky-like and snarky.
There was a silence as they all settled in, and then Samir said, “I like your shirt.”
Everyone’s heads swiveled to him. He was talking to Pinky, who was wearing a T-shirt she’d distressed and embellished herself. It said Nevertheless, She F*cking Persisted on the front in glitter letters, and on the back, You Can Bet Your Ass She Did. Pinky loved wearing what her parents called “provocative” shirts. She said it expressed her inner state, but really she just wanted to piss off her mom and dad. And it worked, too. They were second-generation Indian Americans, and though they weren’t as traditional as Ma and Pappa, they were both superconservative, stuffy lawyers. How they’d managed to spawn someone like Pinky, Ashish would never figure out.
“Um … thanks?” She tucked a lock of purple hair behind one ear and pushed back her rhinestone-studded glasses.
“She made it herself,” Oliver said, grinning. “I’m constantly telling her to make me one. … Still waiting!” He put on a mock-salty expression and Samir laughed.
“Oh, hey.” Hopping up, Samir said, “I’ll go get everyone a drink. What do you guys want?”
“Don’t worry about it; it’ll take too long. You don’t know our orders,” Pinky said.
Samir smiled, but it was frozen and tight. “I know. That’s why I asked what you all wanted. If you tell me, I’ll remember for next time.”
There was an awkward pause as they all digested that Samir thought there might be a next time. Then Oliver said, “I’ll just come with you!” They walked off together.
“I need a potty break,” Pinky muttered, standing up too, once the guys were gone. “Be back in a sec.”
Ashish groaned. “Why the heck did Oliver invite him?” he asked Elijah. “Did he totally forget the catastrophe that was the holiday party at my place?”
Elijah shook his head. “You know Ol. He doesn’t remember the bad stuff. And even if he did, he’d still have invited Samir because that’s just how he rolls. He hates seeing people left out.”
“I respect that,” Ashish replied. “But man. I have a feeling we’re going to have another screaming match on our hands before the night’s through.”
“Tell you what, let’s work together to keep ’em apart,” Elijah said, leaning forward. “Like, anytime you see Samir ask Pinky something, step in and answer. And I’ll do the same if Pinky does her little snipy thing at Samir.”
“Deal. Man, that’s going to be exhausting.”
“That’s why God invented coffee.”
Ashish laughed just as the door dinged. He looked toward it automatically—and then the world froze, except for her.
Sweetie walked in, talking on her phone and laughing that gorgeous, carefree, tinkling bell of a laugh. Her hair was pulled back into that high ponytail Ashish was beginning to grow very fond of, and she was wearing athletic pants and a bright-blue Piedmont T-shirt. She walked up and stood in line behind Samir and Oliver.
“Why do you look like you just swallowed a watermelon whole?” Elijah asked, craning his head to look at what Ashish was looking at. “Oh. Is that her?”
Ashish nodded. He pushed his shoulders back and was poised to go into his trademark swagger when he glanced down—and froze. “Oh, crap,” he muttered.
“What?” Elijah asked.
“What the hell am I wearing?” Ashish pulled on his Ash/Pikachu T-shirt in horror. “I look like a freaking eighth grader.” He sniffed experimentally at his armpit. “Damn it. Why didn’t I put on deodorant before we came out?”
Elijah regarded him closely, one eyebrow raised. “Dude, you look and smell fine. Just go over there and say hi.”
Ashish scoffed. “Uh, no. I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t? Yes, you can. Just stand up, walk over there, open your mouth, and say, ‘Hi, Sweetie.’”
Ashish almost dived for Elijah’s mouth. “Shhhh! She might hear you!”
Elijah stared at him like he’d grown a shark fin. “Yeah, that was kind of the point.”
Ashish shook himself off. Jeez, Ash, get a grip. “You’re right. I’m gonna go over there. She’s gonna love me. I’m Ash.”
He grinned, and Elijah grinned.
He waited, and Elijah waited.
Ashish stared. Elijah stared back.
“You’re not gonna go over, are you?”
Ashish’s smile fell off his face. “Nuh-uh. It’s fine. I’ll just talk to her on Saturday, when we go out.” His palms were actually damp. Not only had he lost his mojo again, his mojo was a distant memory, like it had belonged to someone else. How the heck had he ever approached girls? How had he ever done this so confidently, never even imagining that things might go horribly wrong? Then it hit him: It was because he’d never really cared about those other girls and they’d never really cared about him. But this already felt different. “You know, it’s better that way anyway. I mean, it’s not like we’re serious or anything. It’s not like I owe it to her to go—”
“Ash.”
“—over there and say anything. I mean, this is preserving the mystery. I don’t want to look all desperate anyway. Right? Right.”
“Okay, you have got to breathe.” Elijah took a deep breath. “Come on. Oliver taught me how to do this. You breathe in for the count of seven, and you breathe out for a count of three. Wait, or is it the other way around? Anyway, here we go. One …”
“Crap, crap, she’s turning around. Crap.” He grinned suddenly, still talking. “CRAP. She saw me.” He waved overenthusiastically, still grinning, and stood.
He heard Elijah snort as he began to walk toward Sweetie. “Good luck, man,” his friend said in a tone that suggested he meant, You’re totally going to screw this up, so, you know, all the best to you in your time of need.
Sweetie stepped out of line and turned to Ashish. Thankfully, Oliver and Samir hadn’t noticed yet, or he’d have them to contend with too. He and Sweetie walked a little distance away, close to a spinning card display.
“Hi,” Ashish said, looking down at Sweetie. His heart fluttered a bit in spite of his extreme discomfort.
She looked up at him through the thick fringe of her coal-black eyelashes. “Hi.” Holy crap. She had a faint dimple in her right cheek that he’d never noticed before. How was it that she just kept getting cuter every time they met? “How was your day?”
“Good.” He smiled a half smile. “Distracting, though. There’s something on my mind I just can’t stop thinking about.”
She dropped her gaze shyly for a moment before looking back up at him, and his head spun. SO. FREAKING. UNBEARABLY. CUTE. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
He stepped a little bit closer. Her body heat washed gently over him. He could smell her shampoo—something minty and sweet—even with the strong coffee smell enveloping them. His entire body, all five senses, were tuned completel
y in to her, like a satellite rotating to keep in the earth’s orbit. “Well, ever since I met this girl who challenged me to a race—”
“She challenged you to a race?” Sweetie said, quirking her mouth to one side. “That’s pretty strange.”
“Nah, I actually kinda dug it. She totally kicked my butt, too.”
A hint of a smile played at Sweetie’s mouth. Her full lips were lined in clear gloss, and Ashish tried not to stare. “Wow. She must be a pretty amazing athlete.”
“She is,” Ashish said seriously. “And see, now I kind of have a date with her Saturday. So I’m pretty nervous about making a good impression.”
“Hmm.” Sweetie pretended to consider this. “Well, I don’t think you should be.”
“No?”
“No. Because I think that girl probably feels the same way about you. So you can both just be nervous together on Saturday and it’ll be okay.”
“Yeah?” Ashish smiled.
“Yeah.”
They stood there, grinning at each other like fools.
“Is this who I think it is?” Oliver’s voice cut through the love haze like a knife. Ashish turned to see him and Samir approaching them with a tray of drinks. Oh, great.
Oliver grinned and continued. “Yeah, it sure is. You’re Sweetie, right?”
Sweetie blinked. “Um … yeah.”
“These are my friends, Oliver and Samir,” Ashish said, trying to make a surreptitious Go away expression at Oliver, who seemed completely oblivious as usual. He just kept beaming at Sweetie. Samir, meanwhile, just looked confused. He still didn’t know about everything that had happened over the weekend. That was going to be a fun conversation. Samir would totally gloat about Ashish taking his advice, even though this whole thing had squat to do with him.
“Oh, it’s nice to meet you.” Sweetie stuck out a hand, and both Oliver and Samir shook it.
“We’re all pretty much dying to hear how Saturday goes,” Oliver gushed. “Like, seriously. Elijah, my boyfriend, and I can’t stop talking about it, especially since Ash has been so down since Cel—”
“Okay, time to go,” Ashish said loudly. “Come on, Sweetie, I’ll buy you some coffee.”
“Well, if you’re drinking coffee, and we’re drinking coffee …,” Oliver, that unstoppable idiot, said. He shrugged. “Join us.”
Ashish scoffed. “I’m sure Sweetie has way better things to do than—”
“No, I don’t, actually,” Sweetie said, looking at him with her eyebrows raised. Then, turning to Oliver, she beamed. “I’d love to join you guys. Thanks.”
“Great! Just come on over to that table.” Oliver gestured with his chin before walking away.
Samir, who hadn’t said a word and had just looked increasingly confused, followed him, still frowning.
As Ashish and Sweetie walked up to the counter, she turned to him, one eyebrow cocked. “So. Is there a reason you don’t want me to meet your friends?”
“Believe me, it’s to protect you,” Ashish said. Then he realized what she might be getting at, that he might be embarrassed because she was fat. “And, uh, I already showed them your picture today at lunch. That’s how Oliver recognized you.”
She looked away, but she was smiling. “Oh. Good.”
Ashish’s heart sang at the appearance of that somewhat-dimple.
Ashish insisted on paying for her drink. Sweetie found that charming, even though she supposed it had its roots in some kind of sexist thinking. But still. It was adorable, the way he seemed both nervous and intent on being chivalrous.
They walked to his friends’ table in the back. Sweetie kept darting looks at him; he’d smile at her and then go back to glaring at them. She got the feeling that he’d been honest with her—he was apprehensive about this not because of her or how she looked, but because of them. Sweetie felt herself relax a bit. Whatever his friends were like, she could deal with it.
All four of the people at the table stopped talking (actually, it sounded kind of like they were arguing, but Sweetie couldn’t be sure) when she and Ashish walked up. They sat on the couch beside each other, their arms brushing lightly as they got situated. Sweetie’s stomach did a silly, flippy-excited thing and she tried not to let it show on her face.
“I’m so glad you could join us!” Oliver said. “This is my boyfriend, Elijah.” He gestured to the muscular black boy next to him, who nodded but didn’t give her the exuberant smile Oliver had. “Samir you’ve already met, and that over there’s Pinky.” He pointed to a dark-skinned Indian girl with rainbow-hued hair, about ten earrings in each ear, and a very opinionated shirt.
“’Sup.” She nodded coolly at Sweetie.
The girl was extremely pretty in a kind of Goth, glamorous way. For an insecure minute Sweetie wondered whether she was one of Ashish’s exes, but then she put the thought firmly out of her head. That way lies madness and jealousy, Sweetie.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” she said, smiling at each of them. “And thanks for letting me grab coffee with you.”
“Sure!” Oliver said. “It’s our pleasure.” He elbowed Elijah subtly, and Elijah grunted assent.
“So what Oliver said about Saturday … You and Ashish are dating?” the other Indian-American boy, Samir, asked, his expression clearing like he’d arrived at a conclusion to a particularly bothersome mathematical problem. He was a tall, slightly lanky dude with neatly combed hair. He was the best dressed out of all of them, in a button-down shirt and neatly pressed khaki pants. He looked like a banker in the making. (Whereas Ash was wearing a Pokemon T-shirt he’d probably had since eighth grade, which was kind of incorrigibly cute.)
“Well, yeah.” Ashish shifted uncomfortably beside Sweetie, and she tossed him a look. What was that about? But he didn’t make a move to do or say anything, so she continued. “But our first official date isn’t till Saturday.” Laughing, she said, “Ashish’s parents have it all figured out.”
Ashish cleared his throat. “Yep. So anyway, Pinky, do you have any more protests coming up?”
“Ashish’s parents?” Samir asked, his eyes narrowing. “How did you guys meet, exactly?”
“Ashish’s mom set us up,” Sweetie replied. Was it just her, or was there something weird about Samir’s expression and the way he was asking these questions? Why did he look almost … cocky?
“HA!” Samir said way too loudly, and Sweetie jumped. “So you decided to take my advice, didja? You could tell the S-Man knew what he was talking about.”
Ashish rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, bro.”
“Oh, come on. Just admit it! You wanted a way out of your girlless fog, and I gave it to you. I’m like the genius problem solver, just fixing up your life without a second thought.”
Sweetie frowned and glanced at Ashish. He was still trying to appear nonchalant, but a muscle in his jaw twitched. And his shoulders were sort of hunched in, like he was trying to protect himself. But from what? And why was Samir being kind of an ass? No one was laughing.
“You just went around for months not being able to play, having trouble with the ladies, and now look at you! You should really have come to me a long time ago, dude. Like, when Celia cheated—”
“Shut up, Samir!” Pinky’s voice was louder even than Samir’s. Her eyes flashed behind her glasses. “Look around. Do any of us look amused? Doesn’t that give you a hint that you should shut your damn mouth? News flash: Nobody likes you, and this kind of crap is exactly why!”
There was a frozen kind of silence. Sweetie didn’t want to move her head in case it drew Pinky’s attention, so she just swiveled her eyeballs around to look at everyone. Samir’s face didn’t hint at anything at all; it was completely devoid of expression. Elijah and Oliver both looked almost comical in their shock: Their eyes were wide, and their mouths hung open. Ashish was fair enough that his cheeks were tinted a faint magenta, but he refused to meet anyone’s eye.
And then Samir’s words floated back to Sweeti
e: Like, when Celia cheated … And hadn’t Oliver been saying something about a Celia when Ashish interrupted him? Sweetie looked at Ashish more openly, remembering the picture she and the girls had looked at in the locker room that day after practice. She distinctly remembered Ashish’s sad eyes.
And even though his mouth was turned up in a haughty smirk right then, there was a kind of woundedness in his eyes, a hardness to his jaw that came from feeling defensive, from being hurt. And it was because of this girl who’d apparently broken his heart. Sweetie felt a sickening kind of lurching inside her. She hadn’t known, when she texted him, that he came with baggage from a previous girlfriend. And if she still had the power to make him look like he did, if she’d hurt him enough that his friends leaped to his defense at the mere mention of her name … did Sweetie even really stand a chance?
CHAPTER 15
Well, this was just freaking awesome.
Not only had Samir decided to be an ass in front of Sweetie, he’d actually mentioned Celia and her cheating. Could a guy get no privacy around here? And as if that weren’t enough, the way Pinky had erupted on him would definitely freak Sweetie out. First Pappa and his “contract,” and now his friends behaving like wild jackasses.
The silence dragged on and on. It wasn’t just that Samir had talked about his private stuff, either. The thing was, it still hurt to talk about Celia, to think about her, to think how it had gone from so good to so bad, how he’d been left behind—not that he’d say any of that to anyone. He barely thought about it himself.
“Well. If that’s how you all feel.” Samir hopped up from the chair and walked off, pushing the door open with the heel of his hand. They watched him go.
Nobody said anything. Then Ashish stood. “Yeah. I’m gonna go too.” He looked at his friends and tossed the keys to Pinky. “Take the Jeep. Just bring it to school tomorrow.”
“How are you going to get back home?” Oliver asked.
“I’ll just call Rajat, my parents’ driver. He can be here in ten minutes; I’ll wait outside.”
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