There's Something About Sweetie

by Sandhya Menon

  “Hanging out with the girls,” Sweetie said. “Kayla, Izzy, and Suki have been really good about covering for me.” She sipped her smoothie for a quiet moment. “But I still really don’t like lying to them. I wish I didn’t have to.”

  “You won’t for long. We’ll tell them in a bit, right?” He didn’t say that at the end of the four dates, they would probably mutually decide to break up. Ma and Pappa thought he’d be madly in love with Sweetie. She was okay with him being physically attracted to her because she thought the emotional stuff would come later. He was sure that at the end of this he’d consider her a really good friend. But love? That just wasn’t going to happen. He was tapped out. It was like he was a basketball full of love instead of air, and Celia had come by with a screwdriver, poked a giant hole in it, and drained it empty. The ball would never hold love again. It was damaged.

  “Yeah,” Sweetie said, answering his question. “I just hope Amma forgives me. Our relationship’s a little complicated right now.”

  “Did you say you relate to your dad more?”

  Sweetie leaned back and smiled that sparkly smile of hers. “Yeah. Achchan and I are really similar, and I don’t mean just physically. We’re almost like mind twins or something. I can tell he knows something’s up. Just earlier he was asking me about Izzy, Suki, and Kayla, and …” She shook her head, her smile fading. “I really wanted to tell him. But if I do, I know he’ll want to tell Amma out of some sense of loyalty. And that totally defeats the purpose of the Sassy Sweetie Project.” She stopped short, her eyes wide.

  CHAPTER 21

  Sweetie’s blood froze. She was literally a block of ice. Okay, not literally, but almost.

  She did not just say that out loud. Please, God. Please let it have been an aural hallucination or something. PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS—

  “The what?” Ashish felt a grin spreading across his face. “The Sassy Swee—”

  Sweetie leaned forward and put a small hand over his lips. He tried not to enjoy the feeling too much. “Never, ever repeat that. Ever.”

  “But—”

  “Ashish, I am begging you.”

  He studied her expression, her wide, panicked eyes, and bit on the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing. He held up his hands and spoke, muffled, from behind her hand. “Okay, okay. I won’t say it.”

  She retrieved her hand and sat back down. She was sipping very primly at her smoothie when Ashish said, laughing, “But you gotta tell me what that entails.”

  She glared at him. “It entails standing up for myself, for what I believe to be true. It entails me overcoming sixteen years of crap messages from my mom and the media and other people in my life—both kids and adults alike—who think I’m less than them because of how I look.”

  Ashish softened. “Oh.” He took her hand. “I really like it. I think you should get a T-shirt that says that, honestly.”

  Sweetie rolled her eyes. “No.”

  “Well, if you got me a T-shirt, I’d wear it. Proudly.”

  She studied his face, apparently assessing whether he was joking or not. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “I think people who stand up for themselves, especially in the face of being told not to, are the kind of people this world needs more of.”

  She grinned suddenly. Ouch. She needed to have a warning beep or something before she unleashed that gorgeous thing on people. “Thanks, Ashish.”

  He bowed his head. “You’re welcome, Sweetie.” He looked up at her from under his eyelashes. “You know what? I had fun today.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “No, I mean, I really had fun. Here and at the temple. Doing Indian things. With a girl my parents picked out.”

  Sweetie laughed. “You sound a little shell-shocked.”

  Ashish shook his head slowly and took a sip of his drink. “I need to watch out before I turn into Rishi,” he muttered. “Not that my parents would mind that.”

  Sweetie put a hand on his. “I don’t know your brother. But I’m getting to know you, and I’ll say this: I wouldn’t want you to be anyone except exactly who you are.”

  It was pretty wild, but Ashish thought she actually meant it.

  Watching her drive away was harder than he’d thought it would be. Being around her, her softness, her kindness, was changing him. He felt like a sharp rock that had been softened by a gently flowing river, succumbing to its beauty without even realizing he’d succumbed at all. When he was around Sweetie, his previous “playerness” felt ridiculous and childish. Being around her, he wanted to be good too. He wanted, he realized, to be worthy of her.

  His phone beeped, and sighing, he pulled it out. It’d just be Samir or his mom again, freaking out. But the words on the screen froze him.

  I miss you. –C

  Ashish read the words over and over again. Celia missed him. She was the one who’d called it off. So … what did this mean?

  What about Thumbs? he typed numbly, not even caring that it sounded totally bitter.

  Oh Ash there’s no one like you. I’m so lonely. Even in a crowd of people I feel completely untethered.

  Whoa. This was serious. Celia never used words like “untethered” unless she was in a Mood. He waited.

  Can I call you? Please? I know I don’t have a right to ask

  He should say, Yeah, you’re right. You have zero right. Or, Screw you and your untethered face, Celia. He groaned and tipped his head backward. When would he learn? When?

  Sure, his fingers typed.

  His phone rang immediately. He answered but didn’t say anything.

  “Ash.” Her voice, low and sultry, did things to his heart and body that he’d forgotten about. “Thank you for talking to me.” She sounded appropriately apologetic, so he didn’t say any number of biting things he wanted to.

  Sighing, he walked around the house to the garden and along the pond path. “I’m actually not sure what you want to talk about. Are you okay?”

  He could hear the smile in her voice. “You were always so caring. I miss that. There’s no one here who cares about me. I’m just another body, floating around these halls.”

  “What happened to Thad?” Ashish asked, pulling a brown leaf off a rosebush and crushing it between his fingers. “I thought you were all ‘swept off your feet’ or whatever.” He did the air quotes even though she couldn’t see them. That was okay; sarcasm could travel phone lines just like smiles could.

  “It was a mistake, Ash.” Celia’s voice was all choked up, like she was going to cry. He felt himself immediately softening, even wishing he could put his arms around her. There was no one more vulnerable than glamorous, beautiful, confident Celia when she cried. “I just … There’s no one I can talk to here. I hate college. I hate it so much. I’m so alone!” And then she was full-on crying, sobbing and everything.

  Ashish stood there, staring at the pond, stricken. “Oh, hey. Hey, don’t cry, C. It’s going to be okay.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she said, her voice muffled like her face was buried in her pillow. He could picture her then, her small body wrapped up in her bedsheets, her thin shoulders shaking, her mass of curls like a caramel-colored cloud around her.

  It struck him that she was about as different from Sweetie as she could possibly be. What his friends had said about his usual pattern of dating skinny, conventionally pretty girls floated into his brain, jolting him with an electric shock of guilt.

  Sweetie.

  What was he doing? He shouldn’t even be talking to Celia. But then he pushed the guilt away. He hadn’t lied to Sweetie; in fact, he’d been up front about this. Celia still had a piece of him. That’s just how things were. And he wasn’t doing anything anyway; they were just talking.

  He sank onto the bench and began to talk in that soft, soothing voice he knew she loved. She used to call it his “rumble.” “It will be okay,” he said calmly. “Like it always is. We’ll get through this together.”

  By the
time he was done talking with Celia, the sun was sinking, turning the sky the colors of the powders he’d rubbed into Sweetie’s hair and cheeks earlier that day. It had been that same day that they’d kissed, when he’d pulled away, and it felt like ages now. After talking to Celia.

  Not a good idea, a voice inside him said. You’re broken up for a reason.

  Yeah. So Celia was his first love. She was bright and colorful, the kind of person who, by smiling, made you feel like your entire world was on fire. She got him, and his cocky, arrogant side fit seamlessly with her. He never had to tone down his jockness or his flirtiness; all of that was what Celia liked about him. But Celia was also prone to drama. She was extremely touchy. She could be flighty and unreliable. And worst of all? He’d given her his heart and she’d nothing-but-netted it into the trash. She’d cheated on him.

  Sweetie, on the other hand, was … To be honest, Sweetie was worlds away from him. She was sweet and soft and mild, a daisy growing among thorny weeds. Somehow, in spite of everything, she managed to round out his rough edges to fit with her soft ones. Somehow, it felt right. But still, Ash was terrified he’d inevitably break her heart because he couldn’t be what she wanted, just like his friends had warned him. How could someone like him—selfish, never-made-a-relationship-last Ash—give Sweetie everything she wanted? Everything she deserved?

  Sweetie was a different species entirely from Celia—and from everyone else he knew, to be honest. Heck, he’d never before dated anyone who’d come up with something as heart-meltingly cute, as ridiculously brave, as the Sassy Sweetie Project. As he walked to his Jeep to drive to Samir’s house, Ash smiled suddenly at the memory of how she’d completely frozen after she’d blurted that out to him, looking like freaking Bambi in headlights. She was so unbearably adorable sometimes. His smile fading, he thought, And that’s why you need to be the man she deserves, Ash. You seriously cannot—canNOT—mess this one up.

  No pressure.

  “Said, the universe couldn’t keep us apart …”

  Sweetie stopped singing at the sound of applause and opened her eyes to see her friends clapping and cheering like she’d just won the gold at the Olympics. They were all gathered in Kayla’s parents’ four-car garage, half of which was empty and perfect for their rehearsal space. She rolled her eyes and laughed. “You guys. I’m not even done singing that part.”

  “Yeah, well, this is your second go-around, so I think we got it,” Kayla said, her bracelets jangling at her wrist. “And you are inspired today.”

  “You could go to LA and be discovered,” Izzy said, her hands clasped in front of her chest. “Seriously, Sweetie.”

  Suki narrowed her eyes. “Something’s different, though,” she said slowly, tapping a drumstick against her chin. Her long, silky black hair hung in waves down her shoulders.

  Sweetie tugged self-consciously at her own bun. “Yeah. I’ve been practicing.”

  “Nuh-uh,” Suki said, shaking her head. Then, widening her eyes, she grinned. “Oh. I get it.”

  “What?” Kayla looked from her to Sweetie, who was now studying her shoes with intense fascination. “What do you get?”

  “Share with the class, Suki,” Izzy said, and slurped at her Sprite.

  “She’s singing like this because she believes what she’s singing now. It’s a love song, guys.” Suki snickered. “I’d say things with Ashish are heating up.”

  “Ohmigod, is that true?” Izzy said, and then choked on her drink in her excitement and had to be pounded on the back by Suki.

  “Calm down,” Sweetie mumbled.

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” Kayla crossed her arms. “Yeah, I can tell by the way your face is.”

  “My face is how it always is!” Sweetie threw her hands up. “Sheesh.”

  “You mean ‘Ashish,’” Suki said, and then they all burst out laughing.

  Sweetie glared at them, but she felt the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Oh, come on. There was no way to be mad at them. Not when they were 1,000 percent right. “Okay, yes,” she said, taking a seat on the worn, old corduroy couch that had been Kayla’s mom’s in college. “Things are going well. I mean, for me they are.”

  Kayla sat next to her and crossed her legs. “What do you mean, for you they are? What about Ashish?”

  “He’s still having a hard time with this girl he broke up with. We totally had a moment this morning at the Holi Festival. He kissed me. And I told you about our first kiss in his car, right?” She grinned around at her friends and they all nodded. “But then at the Holi Festival he pulled away right in the middle of it. We talked about it, but basically he had his heart shattered and now he’s afraid, you know? So I told him I’d wait for him. He told me he’s physically attracted to me”—Sweetie’s cheeks burned in both happiness and embarrassment—“but he still feels this emotional distance. So I told him that’ll probably come later, right? With time.” She looked around at the girls again, but this time their grins had faded. “What?”

  There was a beat of silence. Then Suki spoke. “You’re okay with him only wanting you for your body? Because I’m pretty sure that’s what you just said.”

  Sweetie felt her temper flare. Suki could be so blunt sometimes, even when she was wrong. “That’s actually not what I said. Like, at all. I said the emotional connection will come later.”

  “Yeah. Meaning right now he just wants you for your body.” Suki raised her eyebrows, like, Duh.

  “It sounds like you guys are having a good time,” Kayla rushed to add, seeing Sweetie’s expression. “But, um, Sweetie … it sounds like you’re really falling for him and he … might not be?”

  “Right.” She looked around at them all and shrugged. “He’s not yet. But that doesn’t mean things can’t change. We’ve only been on two official dates, guys. And for me, this is about more than just Ashish. This is about me proving something to myself.”

  “We know,” Izzy said, giving her a tentative smile. “We just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all. Ashish didn’t tell you that he would come around, did he?”

  Sweetie was about to say that of course he had, but when she thought about it, she realized he hadn’t. He’d just asked her if she was sure she still wanted to date him. “No,” she said finally, her voice quiet. Then, straightening her shoulders, she added, “But that’s okay. I know what I’m getting myself into. It’s all going to be fine. Celia’s out of the picture now, and it’s the Sweetie Show.” She paused and framed her face with her hands. “I mean, come on, guys. How can he resist this?”

  They burst out laughing, and Izzy put her arms around Sweetie. “He can’t.”

  “He won’t,” Kayla said, a little more darkly.

  “Or we’ll kick his arse,” Suki added, and before Sweetie could open her mouth to protest, she launched into a kick-ass, thunderous drum solo that shook the walls and made the floor tremble.

  Sweetie grimaced as she slid into her car and glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was already past eight o’clock, and she hadn’t even begun her giant economics project that was due Monday morning. Sweetie generally didn’t spend her Saturday nights doing homework, but she probably should’ve started this behemoth of a project two weeks ago. She had a lot of work to cram into forty-eight hours. Sighing, she pulled into the parking lot of Roast Me on the way home to pick up an espresso and maybe some of those chocolate-covered coffee beans. She probably wouldn’t need to sleep till tomorrow night.

  Sweetie was waiting for her order when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Oliver, Ashish’s friend. Her face instantly creased into a smile. “Hey!” Then, remembering what Ashish had said about Oliver and Elijah’s breakup, her smile faded.

  He half smiled at her, and she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the way he was all scruffy and unshaven, and his button-down shirt was totally rumpled. Not at all how he looked the last time she’d seen him.

  “Hey,” he said quietly. “How are you?”

  “D
ouble espresso for Sweetie!” the barista called out, and Sweetie went up to grab her cup. Oliver followed.

  “Big night ahead of you?”

  Sweetie made a face. “Econ paper. Bleh. I should’ve started eons ago, but …” She took a breath. This was uncomfortable. Not because Sweetie was uncomfortable with people’s feelings. She wasn’t. But because she didn’t know whether she’d be totally overstepping a boundary by reaching out to Oliver now. They’d only ever talked once. “Um, Oliver …” He looked at her, his gray eyes dark and lifeless. “Ashish told me about you and Elijah. I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded, swallowing compulsively a few times. His eyes looked misty, and Sweetie realized with a jolt of alarm that he might be about to cry. Without even thinking about it, she put an arm around his waist (his shoulder was out of reach, dang basketball players) and led him over to the couches toward the back of the café, where they’d hung out that one time.

  They sat on a couch together, and Sweetie handed him her espresso. “Here. You need it more than me. I’ll get another one on my way out.”

  He accepted it with a grateful, watery smile and took two big swallows. “Thanks. That helps.” He sighed a long, deep thing, holding the coffee cup between his knees, his head hanging low. “Man. I just … This doesn’t feel real.”

  Sweetie put a tentative hand on his back. “I’m sorry. You guys seemed happy.”

  “We were.” He laughed abruptly, the sound hard and dark. “I guess I should say I thought we were. But Elijah was obviously coming to other conclusions.” In a wobbly voice he added, “I’m pretty sure he cheated on me.”

  “What?” Sweetie didn’t know them very well, but the one thing she couldn’t do was picture Elijah cheating on Oliver. Even to her inexperienced eye, Elijah had looked at Oliver like he was … he was the answer to some unspoken question. “He said that?”

  “No. He wouldn’t say anything. But so many people on the Eastman team told me they’d seen him with some guy.” He shrugged. “And he didn’t even try to convince me when I confronted him. He just said that if I couldn’t trust him, we should break up. After two whole years! Apparently, we’re too close or something.”