“It was good,” Sweetie said. “We made all the money we needed to make for our jerseys.” There was no point in telling Amma about the standing ovation. The way people had gone mad cheering for her. Amma would just ask if Sweetie was sure they weren’t actually screaming out insults about her weight or something.
Amma clapped her hands. “Very nice! Will you sing me some of your songs? Maybe this weekend?”
Sweetie laughed a little. “Okay.” Then, after a pause, she added, “Thank you for letting me go. I know you and Achchan don’t like me staying up late on school nights.”
Smiling, Amma came forward and put her hand on Sweetie’s cheek. “I think I am starting to understand that my daughter is blossoming into a woman,” she said softly. “And perhaps it is time for me to begin backing away just a little.”
Sweetie swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. She felt tears threatening and blinked hard. “But not too much,” she said, leaning down to hug Amma. What was it about a mother’s hug, anyway? It made her want to burst into tears at the same time that it made her feel infinitely comforted. Like the suckiest thing possible had happened, but somehow things would work out because Sweetie always worked things out.
“Not too much,” Amma agreed, making circles on Sweetie’s back with her open palm like she used to do when Sweetie was little. After a pause she said, “Sweetie, mol … all that what Tina auntie was saying? About prom?”
Sweetie straightened and looked into her mother’s brown eyes, the exact same hazel shade as her own. “Yeah?”
“She’s wrong.”
Sweetie’s eyes almost bugged out of her head. “Really?”
Amma thrust her chin out. “You know, when I was small, my family had no money. At school the girls and boys would tease me because my uniform was always too short and my socks were full of holes. So when I grew up, I decided my child would never feel like that. I made sure you always had nice things. I didn’t want you to be teased. Then … with your weight …”
Sweetie felt something inside her harden against what she knew was coming.
“With your weight, I thought people would make fun of you anyway. I wanted you to be friends with a girl like Sheena, you know. Fashionable and cool. So I became friends with Tina auntie. But I started to realize you’re not … you’re not like Sheena. And you’re not like me. You’re Sweetie.” She smiled and shook her head a little. “After we talked, I realized that you can make your own decisions. If you don’t want to go to prom, who is that Tina or that Sheena to tell you it’s wrong? You do what you want, mol. And just forget about everyone else. Even your old Amma.”
Sweetie smiled through the tears in her eyes and shook her head. Maybe this wasn’t everything—Amma wasn’t apologizing for all the comments she’d ever made about Sweetie’s weight. She wasn’t reversing her position on what Sweetie could or couldn’t wear. But this wasn’t nothing. This wasn’t insubstantial. This was her mother admitting that maybe, maybe Sweetie didn’t have to be exactly like the other girls. This might just be the first crack in Amma’s intractable armor. “I can’t forget about my Amma any more than I can forget about myself,” she said in a high, choked voice. “You know that.”
Amma pulled Sweetie’s face down and kissed her forehead. Sweetie closed her eyes and soaked it in.
Okay, how was this possible? How had he gone from neatly tying things up, from finally arriving at the conclusion that he was irrevocably in love with Sweetie to having her call him a fart goblin jerkwad, whatever that was, threatening him with her Mafia girl gang and then storming off into the night? How?
The LCD screen in his Jeep lit up with an incoming text.
Pinky: ZOMG you’ll never believe it but Samir’s madcap plan worked!! O and E are back together!!!!!!
“Madcap,” eh? He guessed by the exclamation point bonanza that Pinky was still sucking down the coffee. He smiled to himself in spite of everything. So Oliver had probably gotten a ride home with Elijah. That was awesome; those two deserved to be together.
And so did he and Sweetie, dammit. They deserved to be together because they were made for each other. How could she believe he was capable of leading this huge double life?
Then again, you didn’t really give her a reason to think the best of you, now, did you? a tiny internal voice insisted. You’ve been talking to Celia behind her back. How was she supposed to know that there was nothing more nefarious going on?
How had she found out, anyway? At no point had his phone been unatten—
Oliver had given him the phone and he’d been sort of weird. What if Oliver had seen the messages and told Sweetie?
Ashish dismissed the idea out of hand. No, Oliver would talk to him first before he did anything like that. So then what? Oh God. He’d left the phone on the table after they’d taken a selfie, hadn’t he? And Celia had probably texted him then, right in front of Sweetie.
Ashish groaned and gripped the steering wheel tighter. Okay. There was nothing else to do. He had to see her.
He pulled off the side of the road and texted her.
Will you come talk to me? At that playground on the corner of McAdam and Harper
It showed as read almost immediately. One minute. Two minutes. Three. Four. Ashish was starting to think that she was ignoring him when the response came back.
Sweetie: Nothing to say
Please
Why?
Because I love you an idiotic amount, he wanted to say. Because I can’t imagine waking up tomorrow with you still thinking the worst of me. Because I can’t lose you over something as stupid and small as this misunderstanding.
Because it’s you and me, he typed instead. Please
Three minutes later: Ok. When?
His heart leaped. 20 minutes
He started the car again and pulled back onto the road, his entire body clenched with an almost painful, crushing hope.
CHAPTER 30
His headlights picked her up as soon as he pulled into the parking lot. She was sitting on the bottom rung of the jungle gym. He felt a pinprick of hope at the realization that the rung was wide enough that he could squeeze in beside her. She’d left room for him still. That had to count for something, right?
He turned off the car and walked over to her, his footsteps soft and silent on the rubbery stuff they used on kids’ playgrounds. Maybe it was rubber. Whatever. No time for that now. “Hey.” He stood beside her, not wanting to sit and invade her space until she’d told him it was okay.
She looked up at him. Her hair was wet, like she’d just taken a shower, and she wore sweatpants and a big sweatshirt. Her eyes were puffy, like she’d been crying, and Ashish’s heart broke at just how beautiful she was. He couldn’t wait to set things right. He would set things right. Sweetie would never cry because of him again.
“Hi,” she said softly. She scooted over a bit.
Taking the invitation, Ashish sat next to her. He could feel her body heat; he could smell her sweet peppermint shampoo. He wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms, to kiss that velvety mouth, that irresistible dimple, that soft throat. But he held back with everything in him. “Thank you for meeting me. I know it’s late and you probably don’t want to even look at me.”
She shrugged.
“Sweetie … remember when I said I couldn’t give myself to you all the way because—”
“Because of Celia.” Her voice broke a little on Celia’s name, and Ashish wanted so badly to blurt out the truth, how things really were. But he had to take it slow. “Yeah. I remember.”
She got up and walked off to the tire swings. She sat on one and began to gently swing. Ashish followed her and sat on the one next to hers.
“You don’t have to remind me,” Sweetie said softly, her words twining with the creaking of the chains. “I know you didn’t make any promises. But then you said you really liked me. And you went to all that trouble to ask me to prom. I thought …” She swallowed, and when she spoke, her voice was all ch
oked up, shattering whatever was left of Ashish’s heart. “I thought that changed things. That you were, um, falling for me.”
He took a breath. “Things were changing. I was falling for you. Actually? I’ve already fallen.”
She looked up at him sharply, her features shadowed in the dim light from the streetlight a few yards away. “But then … then why were you talking to Celia at all?”
Ashish kicked the dirt, the entire swing juddering at the impact. “I won’t lie. When Celia first texted me, right after you and I went on our second date, I couldn’t help but talk to her again. She’d broken my heart, and … and I guess in some way that meant she still had power over me. She sounded so down, so lonely, that she got to me. There was history there, you know? But then, as you and I got to know each other better, I realized something. Celia was someone I used to love. Past tense. And that would never change. She’s made some mistakes, but I think she’s a good person, and … and that’s it.
“I couldn’t stop talking to her because there was a part of me that felt like I owed her that. She sounded like she didn’t have anyone else to talk to. She seemed really fragile. But also the bigger reason was that … I just really needed to see her one last time to put this whole chapter of my life behind me. I was desperate for closure, Sweetie, and the only way I felt I could get that was to see Celia face-to-face, to tell her it was over to her face. So when she asked to meet, I said yes. Once we did, I told her right away that I wasn’t interested. That I only had eyes for you.” He waited, watching her expression, seeing how she was taking it. “And seeing Oliver and Elijah and everything that happened with them … I began to realize that it was completely stupid to turn my face away from true love. So what if it was unexpected? So what if you and I make absolutely no sense on paper? So what if I’m doomed to be unhappy because I suck at relationships and I’ll probably mess this up along the way? Like I’m already messing it up? For now it works. It’s right. And I know now I’m damn lucky to have you. For as long as you’ll have me. I’m done being afraid.”
She shook her head and looked down at her feet. “But why didn’t you just tell me all this before?”
Ashish swallowed. “I thought that it would be better if I could tell you once everything was wrapped up. I could just say, ‘Hey, this thing with Celia is completely behind me now.’ I’d have closure, and it’d be completely honest. I already knew I didn’t have feelings for her, but she still had this … this hold on me, you know? Like the ghost of our relationship was always there when I was with you, and I thought once I just met up with her and got everything out in the open, that ghost would finally dissipate. Plus, I didn’t want you to see me as this … this weak dude who couldn’t deal with his ex. But I realize now that it was stupid of me. Of course you’d want to know if I was talking to her. My brother Rishi’s this super-selfless dude, you know? He’s always putting everyone else before himself. He’s happy doing that, and people love him for that. But me? I’m the opposite. I’ve always just thought of myself. When I thought about others, it was about them in relation to me. It doesn’t come easily to me to think of others. I never really cared about it before—I just thought that’s the way I was. Ash, the selfish player who doesn’t even want to acknowledge the Indian part of his identity.
“But you … Sweetie, you’ve changed me. And you make me want to continue to change in the best possible ways. I should’ve just told you everything I was feeling, but I got all idiotic and selfish.” He got up and went around to where Sweetie was sitting and knelt before her in front of the swing. Taking her hands, he said softly, “I’m so, so incredibly sorry for hurting you. That was the absolute last thing I ever wanted to do.”
Sweetie watched him quietly, with only the occasional chirping cricket breaking the silence between them.
“Really? The last thing?” Sweetie asked finally.
He nodded, a little confused by the way she’d said it.
“What about eating a live toad—with warts—or hurting me?” Her dimple made an appearance.
Ashish kept his expression serious, though his heart was leaping like a happy fish. “Did I mention I love cuisses de grenouilles?”
“Er …”
“French for ‘frogs’ legs.’”
Sweetie snorted. “Okay. Dancing naked in front of the Bruins or hurting me?”
“The Bruins better get ready to see somethin’ really special.”
Sweetie giggled. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy about you.” Ashish held her eye until her smile faded and she was serious too. “I love you.”
Sweetie looked like she was choking on something. After a long moment, just when Ashish was thinking he couldn’t take the suspense anymore, she said, “Y-you love me?”
He grinned. “Obviously.”
She placed her tiny, soft, irresistible hands on his cheeks. He closed his eyes for a moment, reveling. “I love you too, Ashish.” She leaned in to kiss his lips, first tentatively, then with more hunger. “Obviously,” she whispered against his mouth.
Ashish’s grin got even bigger. To be honest, he didn’t think he’d ever stop grinning.
Everything was perfect. Sweetie didn’t know if Suki, Kayla, and Izzy would think she was being soft by forgiving him. But this felt right to Sweetie. And that was all that mattered. He’d apologized. He’d given her an explanation that she felt was the honest, right one. He’d told her a little bit about the hard time Celia had been having at college, and she was glad Celia had had Ashish to turn to. (Andddd she was glad their whole text thing was over now. Come on. She was only human.)
But there was still one niggling thing left. Something she had to tell Ashish, so he knew how things were with her, too. So he could be prepared.
They were sitting on the ground now, Sweetie’s head on Ashish’s lap. He played with her hair, his big fingers warm and comforting.
“Ashish …,” she began, feeling suddenly nervous. She wiped her palms on her sweatshirt.
“Hmm?”
“Do you remember me telling you that I wanted to use our free pass on my birthday party?”
“Of course. This weekend. I even have a present all picked out.”
“Really?” She grinned up at him but then became serious again. Focus, Sweetie. “So, there’s something you should know. I wanted to tell my parents about us.”
“Yeah, you said. Dude, I’m so prepared. I have my impress-the-parents outfit ready to go. Button-down shirt, khaki pants, the whole nine.”
“Great, but listen.” Sweetie sat up and met his eye. “Ashish, if my parents say no, if they still don’t want us to date …” She took a breath. “I’ll respect their wishes.”
Ashish’s expression froze. “You mean you’ll break up with me?” he asked in a voice so quiet, so vulnerable, that Sweetie’s eyes immediately filled with tears.
She put her hand on his. “I’m sorry,” she said, biting her lower lip. “But I just can’t go against my parents’ wishes. As misguided as they are about some things … in the end they matter. A lot.” She laughed. “I know it sounds hypocritical after I’ve dated you behind their backs for the past month. But that was for me to prove something to myself, and I have. I know what I’ve always believed to be true is true—my ability to find romantic love isn’t tied to my weight. And I’m worth so much more than what bigoted, ignorant people might think.”
“So the Sassy Sweetie Project is a success?” Ashish asked, smiling.
“Totally.” She laughed and swiped under her eyes. “But now that I’ve done what I set out to do … I need to tell my parents. And if they still don’t understand …”
“We’ll have to break up.” Ashish nodded. Took a deep breath. “I get it.”
“You do?” Sweetie had expected more pushback, what with him being the original rebel and everything.
“I do. I mean, it totally sucks, but I get it. You’re like Rishi in some ways. You’re the golden, dutiful Indian child. I guess that’s one of
the reasons my parents wanted us to date.”
Sweetie shook her head. “I don’t know about that.” She put a hand on his cheek, feeling the light stubble there. “Thank you for understanding. If they don’t agree … my heart will be broken. Completely.”
Ashish stroked her cheek, his eyes honeyed sadness. “Then I guess we’ll just have to make this moment really count.”
He leaned in to kiss her, and when she tasted salt on his lips, she realized she was crying again.
Sweetie sat at her desk, looking at the selfie of her and Ashish they’d taken Thursday night at the playground. It was dark, and there were shadows in all the wrong places on their faces, but she could still see the love, the light, shining out of them both. She’d never been this happy. Never.
It was the day of her seventeenth birthday party. She should be bubbling with excitement as she usually was, thinking of all the gifts her parents’ friends would bring. Because, to be completely honest, this birthday party thing was really for her parents to socialize with their friends and show off their (or rather, Amma’s) party-planning skills. Why else would they throw it on the morning of junior prom? Out of the seventy-five people invited, Sweetie had insisted on only five: Kayla, Suki, Izzy, Anjali Chechi, and Jason Chettan (who were technically both her and Amma’s guests). Ashish was the stealth guest of the day; he’d promised not to eat or drink anything, so as not to upset the delicate balance of food/drink-to-guest ratio that Amma had spent months perfecting.
Sweetie’s actual birthday wasn’t for another two weeks, but her parents had been worried all their friends would be vacationing and wouldn’t be able to come. Then who would see and be impressed by the peacock ice sculpture? The fully catered lunch and the open bar? Who? Which was usually fine, because more parental-unit friendlies meant more fabulous presents.
But Sweetie wasn’t as excited as she usually was. The day outside was weirdly overcast, which matched her mood pretty well. It could all go horribly wrong today. Sweetie hoped it wouldn’t … but she also knew Amma. She felt like she’d been training the last month for this one day. This was her big relationship meet.
There's Something About Sweetie Page 27