“I was having a good time and I completely forgot that Dilly wasn't there.” She admitted. “So I went to check up on him. I hope my tits didn't bother you.”
“Uh, not at all.” Tits? Her tits? I could have them bothering me any day of the week. Feeling more uncomfortable, I turned to Dylan and shook his hand. “Well, that was a great conversation we had! Thanks for all your advice about my car and life's questions, Dylan! It's been great chatting with you! Sorry to take up sexy time! Toodles!”
“What are you babbling about? You wanted help and I gave you advice.”
“Isn't he wonderful at that?” Aurora made her way to him and rubbed herself against his arm. I watched as her boobs grazed his body. He was getting felt up by the boobies of a goddess. The girl wasn't my girlfriend yet I was getting all kinds of jealous and embarrassed. If Rachel had these kinds of breasts before, why did she get a boob job? There was a lot of information and most of it made no sense. I wanted to faint.
“Umm, thanks again.” I mumbled, trying not to stare at her boobs.
“No problem.”
"I...I think I should leave." I said, nodding like I had constipation and needed to take care of it. I wish I did have constipation though. I had no problems with Aurora's boobs. I did have a problem with her grinding against her boyfriend while another guy was watching. Maybe she was chill with it but I wasn't. I wanted out. I needed air.
“What's the matter?” She asked.
What's the matter? What's the matter? She was traipsing around with her boobs all about, bouncing here and there, and she wanted to know what was the matter the matter was . Christ. I blinked, trying hard not to be a pervert. It wasn't easy, with her breasts and her boyfriend who could stuff me in a can.
"I...I'm going to check on your sister." I finally came up with a decent excuse. Part of me did want to see how Rachel was handling all this. She hopefully learned how to wrap a sari at this point. Granted, I didn't know how to do it so maybe it took longer.
I escaped the den of boobs in time. Besides, I had to meet Rachel. She wanted to show me how she had put on a sari. Granted, my mother probably helped her out but it was something. At least she was trying to learn. I zoomed out of the driveway and headed straight to my house. I had to make it there in time to see her.
“Hang in there. Hang in there.” I murmured.
My mind was trying to wash the image of Aurora's boobs out but I couldn't. More than that, it was Dylan wanting to propose. He wanted to do what I did or claimed to do but it was going to be real. I had almost blown it for them. The guy wanted to trust me with his secret while I had to deal with my own. Then there were my feelings. I wasn't sure what the heck was happening with them. They were all twisted inside of me.
As my neighborhood grew closer and closer, I thought about Rachel. I loved her company. I loved that she could deal with my crazy plans. But could I deal with this in reality? I eased into the driveway, parked the car, and cut off the engine. Then I ran up the steps and decided to get in. I had to see her.
“Guys, I'm home!” I called out, throwing the door wide open.
That's when I saw her standing at the top of the steps. Gone were the piercings but remained was the pink streaks. I didn't expect those to go overnight. But the rest of her was something I never imagined. Her sari matched the streaks in her hair but she pulled it back and had been adorned with all kinds of gold jewelry. If I didn't know who she was, I would have mistaken her for a real Indian woman. Granted, she was an Indian woman with pink hair and super pale skin but an Indian woman all the same. If I wasn't in love before, this confirmed it.
I was in love with Rachel Morgan.
127
Carter Tachikawa
Chapter 12
She tried to turn around in front of me but there was no reason. I could tell that she would look fine in every angle. She was all woman and I knew no one would care that she wasn't Indian. She didn't need to be one to look good. I was breathless as she spun before me. Her sari was lined with gold stitching and it seemed like she had done a good job with wearing it.
“Well?” She prompted. “Am I dressed fine?”
"Wow." I breathed out. “Holy moly Vishnu, I did not expect that! I knew you were trying it on but I didn't think I'd see you in a sari so soon.”
"Come on, quit babbling. How do I look?" She asked me.
"Come downstairs so I can get a better look." I suggested. Oh please, please come downstairs! I wanted more than just a good look. I wanted to bathe in this beauty I had not seen in her before. I wiped the edges of my mouth to make sure that I wasn't drooling. Oh good, I was dry.
"All right." She slowly made her way down so as not to step on the folds of her sari. "I have to admit it's hard to walk around on this thing and that skirt thing is kind of tight."
"It's to give you a figure. You know, like in the old days?"
"Yeah, I figured as much." She winced as she made her way down. Then she laughed at her own pun. "God, I think I'm going to trip on this and that stuff they put on my feet isn't really helping."
"Stuff they put on your feet?"
"Brown stuff. Not that brown stuff but...well, they made pretty designs on my feet and hands." She showed them off and saw what she meant; mehindi or henna, depending on what the person wanted to call it. . I could tell that she had pleasure wearing it. She kept staring at her hands and admiring the work. “This comes off eventually, right?”
“Eventually”, I nodded. “When it fades, it's like a tattoo but without all the pain.”
"Sweet. I guess I can get used it to it. This sari, on the other hand, is hard to deal with. I have no idea how anyone can walk around in this." She said as I helped her get the rest of the way down. "I mean, I can barely move. This must be a bitch to try and pee in."
I laughed at that. "Actually, it's not that bad."
"How would you know that?"
I turned pink. She was treading on the subject matter that I didn't want to go into. Still, I felt comfortable enough to tell her. "Um, my cousins used to dress me up in saris when I was three. Apparently, I was their mannequin and they put makeup on me too. I had trouble getting out of saris so I just wore them whenever I needed to go to the bathroom."
"Must have been embarrassing."
"You're telling me. I had to pee in the Indian style toilet, which is a hole in the floor. I needed to aim and hit the toilet and I couldn't do that in a sari!"
"Dude, tell me you didn't go in it when you tried that."
"My aim was surprisingly very good."
Now we were both laughing as we entered the kitchen. The whole placed smelled like a heaven. An oily, fried, crispy heaven. I had to hold back all the drool that was currently collecting itself in my mouth. My mother looked up from the pakoras she had been frying and nodded with approval of Rachel's sari. "Very good. Mummy is pleased."
"Mummy is pleased. Very good." I mocked.
"No, Anwar. I am serious. She is looking quite stunning. Very stunning." She went on, taking a pakora from the hot oil and putting it on a plate. Then she handed it to Rachel. "Now try this. I have put less fewer spices so it will not be as hot for you."
Rachel sniffed it. "Smells delicious."
"Don't not just look at this! Taste it! Taste it! Then tell me if you would like some chutney or hot sauce to go with it. I also have ketchup."
She took a bite and swallowed. "Delicious."
"Is that all?"
I rolled my eyes. "She said it was delicious. What more do you want, Amma?"
"It should be more than delicious!" My mother exclaimed, waving her spatula around. I ducked to make sure that I didn't get hit. "I am to be her future mother-in-law! I need approval! It should be better than your own mother's cooking."
"It's been a while since I had my own mother's cooking so yes. Yes, it definitely is." She agreed, taking another bite. I wandered over the fridge and got her a bottle of ketchup to dunk it in. She shook her head as I started to open it. "I want the
hot sauce!"
"Are you...are you sure?" I asked. I knew how hot the hot sauce could be. I remembered having to down 12 glasses of water, 4 glasses of apple juice, and one glass of milk before my tongue cooled down. It saved my mouth but it sure as hell made me go to the bathroom for the rest of the night. I didn't want my future 'wife' to suffer in this way. Whether or not we really got married, I didn't want to be blamed for endless diarrhea or taste buds erupting in flames.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm known for taking everything Thai hot at that Thai restaurant near my house. And I'm sure you know that Thai hot is extremely hot." She went over, walking carefully so she didn't trip over her sari, and and took the hot sauce. "Oh hey, this isn't that bad."
"Not that bad? You think that's not bad? Man, you don't want to know about Bathroom Gate: 2006 then." I shook my head.
"Bathroom Gate 2006?"
"Don't ask. It's one of those midnight stories. But I will give you a hint. It involves the hot sauce and my many trips to the..."
"Anwar!" My mother snapped at me.
"What, Amma?" I tried to look as innocent as possible. Yeah, I knew I was being a jerk but that was one good thing about being my mother's son; I could get away with it. At least I hoped I was able to get away with it. Judging from my mother's evil looks, I didn't know.
"No more foolish nonsense! Eat!" She handed me a plate of pakoras. "Give to your wife!"
"Amma, she's not my wife yet."
"But you must treat her as if she is already yours!" She got that dreamy look in her eyes. "Oh, I wish I raised you in India. Back then, the men knew how to court the women. I got serenaded and love poems and letters from all the suitors I had."
"Sounds fantastic." Rachel said, munching down on her pakora. I noticed that she was not freaking out over the hot sauce. Damn. Some people had all the luck when it came to hot food. "I haven't gotten any love poems yet."
Oh fuck no.
"Oh really?" My mother shot me a look. "Why have you not courted her, Anwar? Where are her love poems and music?!"
"Uh...in my brain?" Now it was my turn to look at Rachel. She didn't notice me and just went about eating her pakoras. "Seriously, you know how much I suck at music! I suck at playing the harmonium. I can't sing to save my life. No offense, Rachel, but I'd rather take you to a concert where people can sing than do it myself."
"Oh! Cheeky rascal!" My mother griped. “If I was not in front of guests and my future daughter-in-law, I would...”
"I've got no problem with concerts." Rachel wiped her mouth with a napkin. Finally! Now my mother could shut up about the glory days of India. I grinned smugly at my mother who waved her spatula in my direction. Ooh, scary. I was close to wetting myself there. “In fact, I really enjoy going to them. They are tons of fun if you're with the right crowd and watching the right performers. And you make sure that you aren't so drunk that you forget what you're doing.” This made my mother laugh. Great. If I had made that joke, I would get the look.
“Remind me to take you to one then.”
“You have not taken her to one?!” My mother gasped. “What is the meaning of this foolishness, Anwar?! Why have you not treated her like a queen?”
Yeesh. I had to stop talking now. Rachel nudged me and we decided to go sit at the table while I tried to explain more Indian culture to her. I had to word everything carefully so my mother did not get suspicious about a thing. ”
“So you have a sister, no?” My mother asked, laying more pakoras in front of us along with some ketchup and chutney. “How old is she?”
“Yup. Aurora's got a huge age difference on me but I love the kid. She's smart and sweet and all that. I have been worrying about her ever since her boyfriend was mugged and killed not that long ago. But she's hanging in there and Dylan's a great emotional pillar for her. I think slowly but surely she's going to go back to being herself.”
“My apologies.” My mother bowed. “But you must know that while his body might be gone, his spirit never will be. He is with you at all times.”
“I've told her that myself. I guess sometimes she wishes that she could see him but he rarely comes in her dreams. He never comes in mine.” She shrugged. “Not sure why I would be dreaming about him but I've heard that it happens.”
“The spirit world is strange.” I admitted. “Sometimes you'll see people who die but they won't be the age you remember them as. I'm not sure about it though. Why that happens the way it does. It's one of those unexplained things.”
“You've seen your relatives in dreams?”
“Some. They've all been younger than I remember than though.”
“Weird. So Cal would appear younger to Aurora if she saw him?”
“You'd have to ask Aurora about that. Unless you see him too?”
“I never see him.” She sighed. “I wish I could see the people I've lost. My family. Cal. Anyone for that matter. But I never do. Do you think they hate me?”
“Nah. Dreams are dreams. I doubt spirits choose to float into people at the right time.” I said. “But you shouldn't worry if you don't see anyone. They don't hate you. They have no reason to hate anyone in the afterlife.”
“Because they're all so happy?”
“They just don't care for their past life. Maybe they will come back one day with a few memories. But don't hold your breath for anything.”
“I won't.” She whispered. “I hate to break that news to Aurora but it's better she knows and doesn't spend life waiting for a sign from Cal.”
I felt sick thinking about it. “Yeah, break it to her gently. Don't bore it into her head but make her understand. The only place she can see him now is dreams and any memories she's made in the past. I hate saying that but you know I'm right.”
“I do. Now come on. Let's try to go onto another subject matter.” She drummed her fingers against the table. “Teach me your language!”
I eyed her. “You want to learn Hindi?”
“Is that what it's called? I thought you had a million.”
“India does have a ton of languages. You're not wrong there. But it's like an official language for each part of the country, you know? Hindi is the language that the majority speak though. So if you spoke Hindi, you'd be okay no matter where you were. Are you sure though?” I leaned over the table, cupping my chin in my hands. “It might take some time to get used to it.”
“I'm sure. And I've got a lot of time to spare. You don't have to get into anything deep, just the basics. Hi, how are you, can you help me, all that. Enough to get me by.”
“Enough to get you by, huh?” I rubbed my chin. “I think we can manage that.”
“Good! Give me the basics. Anything else, we can save for later.”
So began our language lesson. She tried to get some of the basic things like asking how people were and what their names were. She laughed a lot and I joined in. Her accent was way off but I didn't care. I wasn't expecting her to be an expert anyway. Somewhere during the lesson, her hand fell on my thigh and I barely noticed. When I did, I put my own hand on top of it.
“You're getting better.” I told her.
“I'm trying.” She admitted.
“And that's all I can ask for.” I squeezed her hand.
Maybe this was wrong but if it felt good, I didn't want to be right.
Nah, it wouldn't be fun being right.
127
Carter Tachikawa
Chapter 13
After our lesson, I thought about the talk of death we had been having. Reincarnation was hard to figure out. I had yet to meet anyone that remembered very much of their past life. I always figured that people forget the moment they were born again. If they were even born again in the first place. I didn't believe in a Heaven or Hell. But I did believe that the spirit was a living thing. It was immortal and nothing could kill it. So Cal's spirit was still floating around. Chances were high that, if he had been killed recently, he hadn't been reincarnated yet. His spirit was just floating around.
; I felt terrible for Aurora. She had lost a boyfriend (granted one that literally urinated on stage , and on an audience , and gave more middle fingers than necessary) to some shameless act of violence. Poor girl had a new man in her life but I knew she missed the other one. Maybe she would not have met Dylan if Callum hadn't died. Or maybe she would have been happier with Callum. I couldn't help but wonder if Cal had been more romantic than Dylan. I hadn't heard either Aurora or Rachel say anything about it. They were probably trying to move on from the traumatic incident.
And now, a day later, I was back in Rachel's house and trying to complete the lesson we had started before. But we kept getting interrupted by those two in the other room. They were louder than I wanted them to be. I had to tell them to keep it down twice but it wasn't like they were listening to me. I finally gave up and closed my books. We'd have to finish the lesson some other day.
"That is so sweet." I heard Aurora say. "Where have you been all my life, Dilly? And when did you become a romantic?"
"Since I laid eyes on you, sweetheart."
Gag me. Lord Krishna, come down and gag me or something.
"You love me, babe?"
"All the time, babe."
That was it. I took an orange from our fruit bowl and threw it at Dylan's head. I was hoping to hit the wall so it caught their attention. It ending up hitting his back and he stood up, glaring in my direction. Shit. Shit shit shit! What the hell did I do that for? Was I secretly asking for a death wish? I had to kiss my kneecaps goodbye now. Stupid Anwar. Save the guy some trouble and throw yourself out of a window already, you dipshit.
"What was that for?" He demanded.
"I, uh, I..." I stumbled around for a good excuse. "To see if it's ripe? Just wanted to see if the orange was ripe?"
"And you did that by throwing it at me?"
"Um, I just wanted to see if it bounced?" I flailed about for a decent reason. I needed to bullshit myself out of this. "You see, in India, it's usually not a good idea to eat fruit before it's ripe. So we try many different methods to check out...ripeness. Bouncy orange equals good orange. If it landed with a thud, bad orange. Get what I mean?" God, that was terrible.
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