Lana shrugged and didn’t stop him.
When we had arrived in Delhi, we had planned to purchase bus tickets and wing it like proper backpackers, but after falling for the charms of a young man and his dimples in the tourism office, he talked us into hiring a car and a driver for our week and a half in Rajasthan. We paid a negotiable premium for advanced guesthouse bookings and a car and a driver at our beck and call twenty-four-seven. Though it was above budget, it was a sweet deal and worth it to mitigate the hassle of searching for accommodations and purchasing bus and train tickets. Not to mention added safety.
When we checked out of our hotel the day before to begin our road trip, a willowy Indian man in his early thirties, no taller than five feet, sporting bellbottom jeans and a mustache that would make Burt Reynolds jealous greeted us as he leaned against a white sedan. We had to stifle a laugh as the cigarette fell from his gaping mouth, nearly setting his polyester shirt ablaze, the moment he laid his almond eyes on Lana.
“Miss Lana,” he said as he rose to his full height, puffing out his chest, “I would build you a mausoleum so grand it would put the Taj Mahal to shame.”
Lana giggled and said, “Oh, Hari, you’re too silly,” before turning her back to him. I looked at Jade, who rolled her eyes with a smile.
Hari leaned against the entrance as if imitating a male model, bedroom eyes never leaving Lana, as the tour guide led us around the paired caskets that lay in the center of the octagonal interior chamber. With the macro setting selected, I photographed the details of the bas-reliefs carved in the marble walls and the polished jasper, jade, and yellow marble inlaid in floral patterns.
“Harper, can we please finally talk about Goa?” Jade said, breaking the silence. “Your aura is worrying me.”
Since that horrible night, I had barely spoken. I couldn’t face the truth. It was almost as if saying it made it real. But I was bursting at the seams to talk about it. If I didn’t get it out, I thought I would explode.
“I cheated on Adam,” I said, slinging my camera around my neck. Saying it out loud didn’t make me feel any better. In fact, it made me feel like pulling the top off the tombs and crawling in with one of the corpses.
Her mouth dropped, and I heard Lana shuffle towards us. “Well, I figured that much.”
“I don’t understand. I mean, it must be cold feet, right? That’s totally normal.”
“Cold feet happens when you’re contemplating banging the stripper at your bachelorette party,” Lana said. “You’ve been engaged for a month, your feet aren’t cold, honey, your vagina is hungry.”
At the word “vagina”, two veiled women scurried out of the room muttering what I assumed was some spiritual protection against her blasphemy.
“My what is what?!” I caught my volume, remembering that we were in a house of God. Or Allah. I wanted to die and she’s making jokes. “Jesus, Lana, do you have to be so crass all the time?”
“Vagina isn’t crass. If I wanted to be crass, I could have said you have a hungry cu-”
“— I get it!” I cut her off. If it weren’t for her and her stupid birthday sex goals none of this would have happened. “Can’t you take anything seriously?”
Jade stepped between us. “Why don’t we just take a minute to breathe?”
“It’s okay, irritability is a sign of a hungry vagina. I hope you feed yours before you get like this,” she said to Jade with a smirk.
“See, Lana, this is what I’m talking about,” I whisper-shouted, “you don’t value love. Or sex. Or anything.”
“I resent that,” she said, folding her arms. “I happen to value sex rather highly.”
That was clear by the way she kept giving us a play-by-play over and over of her night with Leo.
“Yeah and if it weren’t for your high regard for sex we wouldn’t have stayed in Goa and none of this would have happened.” Hell, if she didn’t encourage me to book my plane ticket, I’d be back in Toronto happily engaged to Adam and planning my wedding.
“Whoa, hold on.” She raised a hand. “I never made you do anything you didn’t want to do. I didn’t push you on Xavier. I didn’t make you kiss him. You did all that out of your own free will. You did it because you wanted to.”
“I did not want to,” I said, but I knew deep down I did. And I hated myself for it.
“So why did you do it then?” I stared at her and balled my fists trying to come up with a response. Was it because I felt some strange pull towards Xavier? Or worse, because I wanted to spite Adam for what he said? But before I said anything, she added, “Look, what you did isn’t that big of a deal.”
Cheating on my fiancé isn’t that big a deal?!
I wanted to scream, to yell, to explode into a million pieces, and as I held my breath, I thought I might. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to her, but it was to me. I’d be devastated if Adam did that to me. I could never forgive him for something like that. I really had no one to talk to about this, I read judgment in Jade’s eyes and Lana couldn’t take it seriously. Before I blew a blood vessel, I turned and marched through the archway welcoming the soothing dampness settling on my burning face as I slumped on the bench outside.
***
February 1, 2010
Ranthambhore, India
By the time we finished our tiger safari two days later in Ranthambhore National Park, Lana and I still hadn’t spoken. As we returned to the hotel, a single ray of sunlight pierced through the fog, but I was still fuming mad at her but mostly at myself, and I debated what to tell Adam.
Who I still hadn’t heard from.
“Miss Lana, how did you enjoy the safari?” As usual, Hari was hanging around waiting for her. “Did you see any tigers?”
He helped her out of the jeep, leaving Jade and me to help ourselves. We hadn’t seen any tigers. Or bears, or hyenas, or leopards, or anything else the website advertised besides some deer and birds. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if they all weren’t mating like, well, animals in heat, and I could only be reminded of the silent disco. Those storm-grey eyes haunted me, and I hated that I missed the feeling of his callused fingertips dragging across my sensitive skin. I could only imagine what being consumed by him felt like. I hoped I had made better sounds than the deer had. Perhaps it was best that I had blacked out for it.
The tension between us was as thick as the fog as we spent the afternoon organizing our backpacks in our room. Jade and I shared the bed in the middle of the spacious but sparsely furnished room, and Lana slept on a cot in the corner. The building was made of marble, the walls yellowed over time, the floor indented from years of foot traffic, but the high ceiling was carved with subtle yet intricate bas-reliefs. In silence, the girls folded clothes and I loaded the images from my camera onto my laptop, backing them up on a USB storage key I had bought in Delhi. Once everything was saved in multiple places, I emptied my backpack in a corner of the room. Clothes, camera, equipment, and souvenirs tumbled out. As I sorted through the clusterfuck of stuff, I grabbed Tahitian Heat. My body tensed as the models on the cover, wrapped in each other with wanton lust and smiles as wide as the heroine’s legs, mocked me. Why couldn’t Adam and I share this kind of passion? Why did I picture Xavier whenever I read this? If it weren’t for that book putting fantasies into my head, all of this could have been avoided. Heat radiated through me and without thinking, I opened the book to the middle, took a half in each hand and began to pull.
KSSSSSSHHHHHHTTTTT
After the tear was an inch long I stopped, sense smacking me in the face. Since deciding on my five-year plan, I had done all I could to become a respectable adult who stood on her own two feet, but how could I call myself one if I were blaming two fictional characters for bad choices I had made in the real world? I had to take responsibility for my actions. After apologizing to my favourite book, I swaddled it in a tank top and shoved it in the bottom of my backpack.
I stood and made my way to the bathroom to splash water on my face. Padding through the room,
I slipped on something and lurched forward catching myself against a wall. I looked for my assailant to find a Cosmopolitan magazine splayed on the floor. I picked it up and with no words spoken, I handed it over to the only person in the room who would own a monthly sex manual. She dropped it back on the floor, and a thud echoed against the marble walls.
“Guys,” Jade said with a sigh as she separated her crystals by colour on the bed, “can you please talk about it and get over it. I refuse to continue to live in this field of negative energy.”
Lana’s mouth gaped, “Me? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
She was right. I was acting like a hormonal teenager. Lana had been nothing but supportive since the day I met her, to the worst day of my life, to the present. She didn’t deserve this.
Swallowing the lump in my throat along with my pride, I squared my body to Lana, who sat cross-legged folding her freshly laundered panties. “I’m sorry.” I crossed my arms to ease my vulnerability. Absolving her meant blame for my actions lay squarely on me. “I’m just so mad that I slept with Xavier. But I shouldn’t have blamed you. That wasn’t fair.”
“Thank you,” she said as her face softened. “But you didn’t sleep with him.”
“What?” I said, steadying myself onto the cot next to her. “But I woke up in his bed. I was naked.”
She placed her stack of undies down and looked me in the eye. “The silent disco finished, we started walking back, well, you could barely stand, so Xavier had to carry you. We went back to the boys’ house, I changed you for bed in his clothes, you complained about the heat and refused to keep your clothes on and passed out. I made him promise not to touch you, and he said he would never take advantage of a girl. He slept on the couch in the living room.”
I collected my memories from that morning. He wasn’t in bed with me when I woke up.
“I tried to tell you,” she said, “but you refused to talk about it.”
And for a moment, just a tiny sliver of time, relief washed over me. But I couldn’t deny the simple fact that, “I still cheated on Adam. Kissing counts.”
Particularly that kind of kissing. It was the most intense pleasure I had ever felt, and I remembered how my body demanded more. What made it worse was the fact that I couldn’t shake Xavier from my memory. I still wanted him. My eyes found Jade, and I knew she could see the guilt that twisted my face.
“You made a mistake. Don’t beat yourself up too hard over it,” she said.
I breathed out a breath I had been holding. She didn’t hate me for what I did.
“Come on, let’s take a walk around the gardens.”
***
With the sun finally shining, temperatures warmed and as forest turned to desert, we arrived in Jaipur the next evening. The Pink City greeted with whimsical salmon-coloured turreted archways and buildings adorned with rows of windows screened with either sandstone or wooden shutters and shops bursting with puppets, jewelry, parasols, and silks. On our first night, we watched a puppet show fit for the Maharajas at the hotel and spent our first full day avoiding rabies at the Monkey Temple and nearly being trampled by elephants at the Amer Fort. The next day we were still full from stuffing ourselves with a variety of spiced goo of a traditional Thali dinner at the Chocki Dhani cultural village the night before, I still hadn’t heard from my fiancé. It had been nine days since he told me he didn’t support my dreams, and I had yet to receive an apology. It had also been eight days since I cheated on him, and I had yet to decide what to tell him.
Stuffed and exhausted, we returned to our guesthouse, a two-story wooden building that reminded me of a dollhouse I wanted as a little girl and never got (thanks, Santa). We were going to have to speak eventually, and I didn’t know if it was best to come clean or sweep it under the proverbial rug. I tossed and turned all night going back and forth, weighing the pros and cons. On one hand, I knew that we had to be honest with each other, honesty is the foundation of a strong relationship, but so is trust, and he might never trust me again. I would give anything to take it back, and I vowed to never put myself in a position like that again. Not for all the tattoos and muscles in the world. And so I decided that I would not have strippers at my bachelorette party.
By the time my eyelids finally closed, I felt in my heart that we had to hold onto each other. There is something special and magical about your first love, and especially with what we had gone through together, what could be more special and magical than your first love being your last and only?
Even through slips of judgment and moments of weakness, love should conquer all. Clichés are cliché for a reason, right?
***
Date: February 4, 2010
Jaipur, India
The next morning as we inhaled the spicy steam of my chai masala tea at breakfast, I asked the girls what they thought I should do. After much debate, Lana said I should definitely, certainly, unequivocally not tell him, it wouldn’t be worth the drama, and Jade said definitely, certainly, unequivocally do tell him, doing the right thing would clear my karma.
After staring at them blankly more conflicted than ever and wishing that I could talk to my big sister, Jade added, “Meditate on it.”
***
During the drive to Jaipur, somewhere between a roadside snake charmer and orange stand in a village seemingly inhabited only by men, Lana and Jade decided to go into business together to create an eco-friendly, fashionable yogawear label with the ultimate aim of crushing Lululemon into a spandex pulp. Jade brought the artistic vision, and Lana brought her networking and business savvy. Yin and Yang.
As I flicked through my images, the girls drowned in a deluge of delicate silks in the millionth sari shop they had ransacked in the famed Pink City. When the girls began chatting about strategy, I realized that I needed to take note and step up the business side of my venture. I had enough images to start my Facebook page and upload images to my Flickr and blog. The judges at Awesome Adventures would surely Google search their entrants; it was standard practice in this day and age when screening people from job applicants to potential dates. A rocking social media platform would put me above and beyond the applicants who didn’t have one.
So I asked, “Hari, is there Internet nearby?”
Sitting on a couch across from Lana, he told me of an Internet café a few doors down, never once taking his eyes off of her.
The girls pulled out more fabrics for the poor shopkeeper to fold back up and I left the shop, welcoming the warmth on my face for a minute, until I pushed open the door to the Internet café. Logging into Facebook, I grumbled through the new updates, they were always changing the layout, and created a fan page for Harper Rodrigues Photography with just the basic information. I could upload photos and really get started when I could get my laptop on Wi-Fi next. Just as I was about to start entering the basic information a new message blinked.
My twisting gut had an idea of who it was. I clicked on it and saw a message from Adam.
Hey baby, listen I didn’t mean to say those things to you the other day. I was just upset, and I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at you. It’s just been so hard not having you around. Can we Skype to talk about it? Day after tomorrow? You name the time?
My fingers froze on the dirt-smattered keys of the keyboard. Guilt rippled through me as he confirmed that he didn’t mean what he said. I thought of what our itinerary held and replied: Sure, eight-thirty p.m. my time, ten-thirty a.m. your time?
I had to tell him. If I could get it off my chest I could put that night behind me. And I hoped he could forgive me and that he could still love me.
***
“Miss Lana,” Hari said taking Lana’s shopping bag from her hands as we left the shop. “Might I suggest a movie tonight if you are in need of entertainment? There is a very famous cinema nearby I may take you to.”
Lana looked at me then Jade, both of us giving a shrug and a nod. “Sure we’ll all go, of course,” she said.
His smile faltered for a
moment. “Of course.”
As I towel dried my hair, Jade performed sun salutations and Lana wrote furiously in a notebook. A knock on the door stopped everyone mid-move. Rising to my feet, I padded across the room and pulled the door open. Hari stood in the hallway, shifting his weight nervously, wearing a collared fuchsia shirt and crisp black bellbottoms.
“I have come to escort…” when he paused I knew what he really wanted to say, “… you ladies to the car.”
“We’ll be out in a minute,” I said, closing the door.
“Oh Lana, Hari’s looking mighty fine for you tonight,” I teased and poked her in the ribs.
She shot me a look and grabbed her purse.
With our VIP balcony movie tickets in hand for the Bollywood blockbuster 3 Idiots, Hari led us through the crowds into the lobby of the spectacularly Raj Mandir. The lobby looked like a whimsically decorated birthday cake with pink and yellow marzipan walls and blue-sky ceiling speckled with twinkling lights. Finally getting the hang of my exposure settings, I set my camera on the concessions counter hoping for a shot that could do the majestic room justice. Playing with the shutter speed, I pretended not to hear a very awkward exchange of Hari insisting on buying Lana candy and her refusal. Finally, he gave up when she bought popcorn for herself. Then, instructed by ringing bells announcing that the movie was about to begin, we ascended the staircase in the merengue-walled auditorium to our seats.
“So we’ll take these three seats and you take the one at the end?” Lana said pointing to the seat furthest away from her.
“Oh, but Miss Lana, my assigned seat is this one next to yours.” He pushed past Jade and me, blocked her path, and gripped the back of the seat next to her. “Please,” he gestured for her to sit as he lowered into his seat, “the movie is about to begin.”
Throwing her hands in the air in defeat, I couldn’t help but think how sweet Hari’s doting was. As I watched him fawn over her, I missed the way Adam had doted on me at the beginning of our relationship set in, before comfort set in, work deadlines kept us apart, and video games stole our time. But despite it all, I loved him. I missed him. And I missed who we used to be, and I wanted it back.
Runaways Page 9