The Knockout

by Sajni Patel

  So when Saanvi waltzed in with her flowery perfume, I nearly barfed. The memory of petri cultures plus her face equated to some serious nausea. Rayna walked in behind her with a nod in my direction. They must’ve had a chat.

  I washed my hands in my usual germophobic manner but eyed Saanvi.

  She released a pent-up breath and looked at our reflection in the mirror as she said, “Listen. Rayna told me about what happened, that you guys patched things up and maybe it’s best if we did too.”

  I carefully dried my hands, warily listening for the giant “but.”

  “We probably overreacted.”

  I scoffed. “Overreacted? You basically spread rumors that I was sleeping around and dragged that mess into the mandir and strung it out for almost four months.”

  She nonchalantly twirled her hair, as if her actions had been validated by adding, “Things did involve my brother.”

  “You should’ve been annoyed, mad even, but malicious for so long?” I rolled my eyes and pushed past her. “Rayna, I don’t know how someone as positive as you can stand the toxicity of Saanvi.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Saanvi said.

  “What?” I blurted louder than I’d intended and pivoted on my heels to face her.

  She stuttered, “I’m not-not trying to go back, just forward, okay? Can we put it behind us?”

  “With a neat little bow?”

  “Why are you being so mean?”

  Now it was I who was at a loss for intelligent words. “Okay . . .”

  She quickly added, “Can we just put it behind us? Rayna had a really long, hard talk with me. I mean, I cried.”

  Rayna solemnly nodded. I had to roll my eyes at that. Were they for real?

  “She told the truth and I had to face it.”

  “I’m waiting to hear an apology,” I said, not caring.

  “We were both wrong.”

  “The difference is that I apologized right away, and I didn’t try to tear up your rep in my vortex of anger.”

  “I’m sorry. Can we put it behind us and be cool?”

  “We can start with you stopping the mean talk. As far as putting it behind us? Now’s not the time to ask.”

  “Oh, sure. Hey, it’s pretty cool about your boxing stuff. You’re going places.” She smiled, bright and dazzling.

  “Are you suddenly accepting it because I’m going somewhere with it or because you genuinely don’t care that I’m a female fighter?”

  “Both. I didn’t care before, did I?”

  “You were passive aggressive about your stand on it. I honestly don’t know how we were friends in the first place.”

  “Probably because of Rayna,” she said frankly.

  “Probably is right.”

  “But they were good times.”

  Not knowing how to handle her words, which were deli-vered with a suspicious mix of irony and enthusiasm, I walked to the door.

  “There is one thing that I do need to tell you.”

  I gripped the handle and glared at the metal bar. Here it came. What diabolical crap had she conjured? It didn’t even matter. It wouldn’t affect me. I had very few hot buttons left for her.

  “It’s about Amit,” Rayna said, which was the only reason I stayed long enough to listen. Rayna may have been mad with me. She may have overexaggerated the situation between us and allowed it to linger to epic proportions. Granted, she never stopped the aftermath with much effort . . . but she’d never lied to me, either. She told things the way she felt they were.

  “I know you’re tutoring him,” Saanvi said, which was enough cause for pause seeing that Amit didn’t want anyone to know and the only people who did know were Mrs. Callihan and Lily.

  “Which is absurd, because he’s legit a genius. Anyway, I know because he told me. Which means we talk. As in more than friends. Our parents want to arrange us, like nakhye.”

  Nakhye? As in, the arrangement was already determined and approved by all parties? What the hell?

  “What?” Rayna asked. “You said you liked each other, and your parents and his parents wanted you guys to date.”

  “Why would I believe you, Saanvi? And why would I care? We’re not dating. As you know, we’re assigned to study,” I said.

  “You wouldn’t believe me, but you’d believe Rayna.”

  Rayna chewed on her lip. “I mean, it’s true that Saanvi’s mom talks about arranging them all the time.”

  “We’re doing the gor dhana ceremony after graduation,” she added.

  “I didn’t know that, either,” Rayna said.

  “Mhmm. We haven’t told anyone yet. Supposed to be our parents’ privilege or whatever to officially tell people.”

  “Okay. Congrats,” I bit out, tamping down the bile in my throat. Oh, I shouldn’t believe her, but if there was one speck of truth to her words, then my poor heart would break into a thousand pieces for sure.

  “I hope that you weren’t into him like that. Didn’t figure you were, especially when studying with him is such a bore. You’re not upset, are you?”

  I faced her, smoothing my expression over with stoicism. “Other than the fact that he’s nice but gets stuck with you?” Ouch. Did those words spew venom on the way out, because it sure felt that way.

  She cringed, even if momentarily. “Oh . . . you do like him like that?”

  “As a friend. We’re friends and nothing more. And he seems like a very good person. Pairing him up with someone as malicious as you? Don’t get me wrong, we can put the past behind us, but that doesn’t suddenly erase your personality.”

  Rayna bit her lip as her eyes rolled over to the corner to sneak a peek at Saanvi’s reaction.

  Saanvi always played her A-game, and it didn’t surprise me when she retorted, “You’re barely friends. His parents have a strong say in who he can associate with, and he does listen to them.”

  “His parents don’t have anything against me.”

  “Are you sure? Because I literally heard our moms talking about you.”

  The sheath around my hot buttons split open. She could be lying, as was her inherently insidious nature.

  “Saanvi,” Rayna hissed.

  But she didn’t stop. “His mom told my mom about you going over to dinner. Like, why did you set yourself up for that? Going over by yourself? Or don’t you know the rules? Indian girls never go to an Indian boy’s house alone. And spilling the beans about your parents and your boxing? Bad move. Should’ve kept that to yourself.”

  “And be shady? That makes it worse, as if I have something to hide. Look, his parents wanted to get to know me. And that is me. I don’t care if they don’t approve. There is not a single thing wrong with my life.”

  Saanvi solemnly nodded. “You’re right. You deserved to know, though.”

  “Saanvi, stop,” Rayna snapped, taking her aback.

  “It’s the truth.”

  “This is not what you told me. Look, we had a talk. You asked me to be here so you can apologize to Kareena and tell her something about Amit, not all this.”

  “Has to be said.”

  Rayna shook her head. “I totally see it now.”

  “You hadn’t before?” I asked.

  “I couldn’t admit how bad it had gotten.”

  “What are you talking about?” Saanvi asked.

  “You’re heartless,” Rayna replied. “The three of us used to be friends. We used to be there for each other when we knew others wouldn’t understand. You know why we were really friends? Because it was convenient. Mandir, our parents being friends, dance team, classes. That’s not enough to be friends, though.”

  Saanvi didn’t respond.

  “Come on, Kareena. I’m sorry this ended up being an ambush.” She walked out of the bathroom ahead of me.

  I scoffed and walked out
as coolly as possible, even though my fists were on fire.

  “Do you want to talk about it? Get a load off?” Rayna asked at the fork in the hallway.

  “Nah. Not worth my breath.”

  “I honestly didn’t know she would say all of that.”

  “Is it true about her and Amit being promised to each other?”

  “I mean, their parents talk about it all the time. I have heard them say that, my parents even join in. But . . . they’re parents. Who knows if they’re serious? Amit and Saanvi are way too young!”

  I shook my head. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not. You like him and that was hurtful. I can ask Amit, if you want me to get accurate info.”

  “No. I’ll ask him myself. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She bit her lip with worry as I took the left corridor.

  I snatched my books out of my locker, jammed them into my backpack, and slammed my locker door shut, mumbling all the while. Saanvi figured out a new hot button, but what infuriated me the most? The fact that she picked at something that she knew was a trigger? That Amit being involved with anyone else was actually a trigger? Or that I allowed either one to get to me?

  Practicing meditation techniques and anger harnessing (save it for the fights, girl), I’d cooled down between storming down the hall and strolling through the parking lot to reach my car.

  “Kareena?”

  I spun around to the sound of Amit’s voice, my heart automatically racing no matter how much my brain cells rebuked the instinctive reaction. “What?” I gritted out.

  He held his hands up. “You’re pissed, and I get it.”

  I crossed my arms. “Do you though?”

  “Yes.”

  “What exactly am I pissed about, Amit?”

  He blew out a breath, his cheeks tinged with red. “The way I acted weird. The truth is . . . I really like you and I keep thinking about you. But you made it clear that you want space and maybe I need a little, too, at least until graduation and to finish this work thing. Which works out, right? USMTO will be done by then.”

  “That’s all? The real reason you were acting a little shady? Because there were several times I knew you weren’t saying something, but I didn’t want to press.”

  “The truth?”

  “Yeah, Amit. All of it.”

  He gulped and looked away for a brief moment before returning to me with careful words. “I lied.”

  “No crap,” I seethed, allowing the anger of wanting to be mad overpower the inclination to feel hurt.

  “You know?”

  “I do now. I’ll give you the next few minutes to tell me and then I’ll decide if I want your type around.”

  He sucked his teeth, as if my words were too harsh to hear. “My parents didn’t say they wanted us to be friends after dinner that night you came over. My mom did make food, but I asked her to. For a friend. She doesn’t know it’s for you.”

  Although I knew his parents’ attitude toward me, thanks to Saanvi, my heart sank. There was no easy way to hear that someone didn’t like me, much less the parents of a guy I was really into. “They’re no different, then?”

  He took a step closer. “In that regard? No. I don’t get it and I tried to explain to them how Muay Thai was like any other sport. But they don’t feel it’s good karma, or kismet, or whatever they called it. They don’t think girls should fight. They’re all for female athletes, or so they say, but more feminine stuff?”

  “What the heck does that mean?”

  He slouched. “You know what that means. Rough sports, fighting, boxing, those are for boys. Less-contact sports are for girls.” Then he quickly added, his hands up in defense, “I totally disagree. I think you’re a complete Black Widow. She’s super badass. She’s smart and pretty and friendly and strategic, and very likable. You’re the same way: strong, powerful, and ridiculously attractive.”

  I let out a sigh and tried to remain angry. Being genuinely compared to Black Widow, or any Marvel superhero, was truly cool. I’d never thought of myself that way, that interesting, that kick-butt. The fact that someone honestly thought of me that way made the pissed-off meter dwindle down a bit. And did he just say I was attractive?

  Still. I was not so easily swayed by a few sexy words, even when compared to a Marvel character.

  “I lied because I didn’t want that to ruin our friendship, or make you feel bad, or make you think my parents are bad. Misguided and passively misogynistic, yeah, but not deliberately bad. And I didn’t want you to feel bad if you knew I was going to be your friend anyway. Or maybe more. If you let me. After USMTO, maybe?” he asked, miserably hopeful.

  “What about being nakhye to Saanvi? When were you going to tell me that you’re getting engaged to someone!”

  His eyes grew lemon-wedge wide. “Nakhye? To Saanvi? Uh, you do realize that we’re only seventeen and this isn’t India. We can’t be promised to each other. That’s absurd!”

  “Then what is she talking about? I’d get that she can lie to my face, but Rayna is a bad liar and she conceded. Why would she back Saanvi up?”

  “What exactly did she say?”

  “What does it matter?”

  “It matters a heck of a lot.”

  “There’s only the truth and the lie. Which is which? Are you or are you not promised to Saanvi?”

  “No,” he growled, his deep voice dropping ever deeper. “I would never, ever in a million years make a life-altering and eternal decision like marriage before high school graduation. I don’t even expect to be capable of making that sort of commitment until at least college graduation. I barely like her, especially now that I’ve seen her darker side. And I would never in my entire life cheat on someone. If Saanvi and I were promised, we’d be a thing and all this talking to you and flirting with you and kissing you is cheating. I am not a cheater.

  “What I think she’s talking about, what Rayna probably acknowledged, was the fact that our parents have discussed us being a compatible marriage couple. In the future. You know desi parents. They’re thinking ahead to possible marriage potentials way in advance, but our parents haven’t arranged anything. And no matter who they think is good for me, or which daughter-in-law candidates they toy around with, I have final say. I’ve never agreed to Saanvi. I never will. And if they press the idea of us even being remotely a good match, I’ll let them know how intolerable she really is, all this malicious crap she does. They don’t want someone like that for me. They wouldn’t want someone like that in our family.”

  “She said you’re doing gor dhana after graduation.”

  He choked out a laugh. “Well, that’s the first I’ve heard of it. Usually they tell the would-be-groom ahead of making a date.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “I can’t believe Rayna would back that story up. Are you sure she’s a bad liar?”

  “Well, no. She didn’t know about that part until Saanvi told me.”

  “Mhmm . . . And she actually said that Saanvi and I were getting engaged?”

  “Well, no. She said that Saanvi’s mom is always talking about it.”

  He chuckled. “That part is true, unfortunately. Indian moms . . .”

  “Yeah, your mom who hates me and loves her.” I fumed and went for my keys, to get the door or to cut him, I didn’t know which yet. He took my hand and I yanked it back.

  Amit took a step toward me, but I crossed my arms and he crossed his arms too. All those arms now touched, and not a light graze, but full on skin-pressed-up-against-skin contact. When he looked at me with those intense brown eyes and playful, pleading smile, when he was anywhere close enough for me to smell his light-scented cologne and feel his body heat, adrenaline raged through me. Fight club sort of adrenaline. The kind that had me feeling high and euphoric, the kind that lifted my feet off the ground. Ugh. And I hated it beca
use I wanted to be stupid mad right now.

  I huffed. “What?”

  “Are you pissed because you thought I’d actually do something like get engaged to your mortal enemy and hang out like this with you? Or are you pissed because you like me and the mere idea of me being with someone else tears apart your soul?”

  “The former, obviously. No one wants to be played.”

  With crossed arms still the only thing between us, he stepped forward and forced me to step back against my car. How dare he!

  “I think you really like me,” he stated.

  “I think you’re full of yourself,” I shot back.

  “Then why so mad?”

  “Because if a boy played me like that, he’d get it.”

  “The only part there is any truth to is that our parents might’ve joked, maybe even fleetingly considered, the possibility of Saanvi and me. She’s not into me. Pretty sure she doesn’t even tolerate me.”

  “Really? She’s always all over you.”

  “Pretty sure she does that when she thinks you’re watching. Which has literally been four times. She’s never been that way around me before, and she doesn’t even talk to me when you’re not around. At mandir? Completely ignores me. In the halls? She doesn’t even look at me. She’s trying to get a rise out of you. This started after you came to Holi. Saanvi has no interest in marrying me. She’s just trying to rile you up. Do you believe me? Because if you don’t, we’ll go talk to my parents and you can ask them.”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek.

  “And while we’re there, we can ask what the heck their deal is with not approving you.”

  “No,” I groaned. As much as I had begun embracing this whole confrontation and trying not to give a crap about what others thought of me, calling his parents out was a bad idea.