The Knockout

by Sajni Patel

  Not to mention the foundation and his part in it.

  I shot up in bed and called Amit.

  “Hey,” he said after two rings, his baritone voice music to my ears.

  “Hi.” God, I loved that voice. It did crazy, funny things to my soul.

  “What’s up, babe?”

  I made a face and wished he could see it. “Did you just call me babe?”

  “Yeah. Not working?”

  “Nah.”

  He laughed. “I’ll work on it, then.”

  “Um, did you visit my dad in the hospital?”

  “Yeah. Hope that was okay.”

  “It was. Every day? Even when you weren’t speaking to me?”

  “Yes.”

  I dragged my nails against the patterned lines of the sheets. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was being a dick, remember?”

  “Constantly.”

  “What!”

  I smiled and flipped onto my stomach. “That was sweet of you. My parents liked that you did that.”

  “Told you they liked me.”

  “Did you talk to them?”

  “Just a quick hello. I didn’t want to intrude. I was at the hospital anyway.”

  “For work?”

  “Yeah, with my uncle.”

  “The program works?”

  “Yeah. I can’t believe it. It actually works. Healthcare can be more affordable for everyone with what the company is going to do with it. This will change the world, Kareena.”

  “Sheesh. Sound more Tony Stark-ish.”

  “Hey, Tony Stark and Black Widow would make a great couple.”

  I grinned into my phone.

  “I can tell you’re smiling.”

  “My dad wants you over for dinner, by the way.”

  “Called it.”

  “Speaking of parents, how much trouble did you get into with yours, anyway?”

  “They were mad, especially when I didn’t go home. I went to the office and worked on the program all night and then all day today until it worked. I was exhausted by the time I got home. My parents started yelling but I was too tired to fight. I just told them that we were going to be friends and they have to deal. And then I ended with telling them this program will change lives and you happened to be a huge part of it.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “You are. You motivated me to finish faster the moment I learned about your dad. And you helped the junky parts when others couldn’t.”

  “I guess it’s okay if you mention my name in your speeches and papers and in the magazines and TV interviews. Maybe even if my name went first is fine by me.”

  “Of course, babe.”

  “Still no.”

  “No? Okay. We gotta figure this thing out.”

  I laughed. “So. Anything else you wanna tell me?”

  “Um. No. Why? You got something to tell me?”

  I rolled my eyes. So, he was still playing this game of not telling me about the foundation. “I know you have something to tell me.”

  “That I’m outside?”

  I jumped out of bed and pulled the curtain aside. “You are! You’re breaking all the rules and my parents are home.”

  “Your parents love me.”

  “Wait outside,” I said and hung up. I tossed the phone onto my bed and checked the hallway to make sure my parents’ door was closed and that they were not wandering the halls.

  I hurried to the front door. Oh my god. This boy was going to be the end of me. It didn’t matter if my parents liked him. They would not like any boy sneaking over to my house.

  I swung back the door to find Amit leaning against the tree in the front yard. “You are in so much trouble, Amit Patel.”

  “Why? Because I came by when I’m not supposed to? I think we already established that I do this sort of thing.” He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward me.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me?” I planted my hands on my hips. No more beating around the bush about this thing.

  “Uh. Oh. What did I do?”

  “The foundation,” I breathed. “I know all about it.”

  His face turned red and his eyes went wide, as if his involvement was supposed to be a huge secret. But there weren’t supposed to be secrets between us.

  He opened his mouth, but there were no words for a few, long seconds. Then he rambled, “It’s part of my job. Helping my uncle sort through financial files. I don’t know who they are. I just pick them. But once patients sign privacy waivers, I learn more about them. We’re supposed to give financial help to the most deserving people. And when I saw your dad’s file . . . I mean . . .”

  He threw his head back and sighed. “I wasn’t trying to pry. Honest. I didn’t need to know all of that about your parents’ situation. I know you don’t need my help. I know you told me to stay out of your family’s business. Maybe I interfered a little. Maybe I crossed a line. I don’t think I did—”

  “Why’d you pick my dad?” I asked sharply. I had to know his reasons behind it. I had to know I was right about him.

  “Um. Well. He meets all the criteria. We’re supposed to get to know the candidates. And I’ve met him. I know him. I know his family. No one deserves to be on that list more than him.”

  “Did you push him to the top of the list because of me?”

  “I did it for him,” Amit replied without hesitation.

  I let out a harsh breath, my heart beating faster and faster in my chest.

  “Even if it meant you might get upset with me for knowing too much. I know finances are private. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Also, I didn’t want you to think I did it for you. I did it because your dad is the best candidate. He deserves the help. It’s the best part of my job. Even if no one knows I had anything to do with it.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t regret it. It was the right thing to do, Kareena.”

  There was a moment of silence that engulfed us. A moment of utter silence. A moment of purity.

  I’d been right. Amit did what he did because it was right, because my dad deserved it. He didn’t do it for me. He didn’t do it to win points with me. He didn’t even want me to know about it. He didn’t even say how hard he’d fought for my dad, or that he pushed Papa’s case so that his uncle would interview him right then and there. But he didn’t have to tell me those things. I knew from others.

  Amit might not have thought he was perfect, but right now? He was perfect to me.

  I wasn’t sure how long we’d gone without saying anything. I was sort of tripping over some intense feelings for him and trying to sort them out. He blew out a breath and opened his mouth to say something. But the next thing I knew, my arms were around his neck, pulling him toward me, my chest to his as our lips met.

  Twenty-Seven

  “Are you ready for it?” Tanya asked with Kimmy beside her, hugging her books to her chest.

  “I’m nervous. It’s this weekend already,” I said and lifted my trembling hand. “I’m literally shaking.”

  “You got this,” Kimmy said. “We’ll be cheering you on.”

  “Um, from home, right?”

  “Well, we didn’t have the money to rent a bus or car or anything.”

  I sighed out of relief.

  Kimmy flicked my shoulder. “You’ve kept this to yourself for so long, you can’t stand the idea of having friends there?”

  “Sort of.”

  She planted a hand on her hip and Tanya clucked her tongue, adding, “That’s a damn shame.”

  “I’d be nervous. Spectators watching is one thing, but people you know is entirely different.”

  “We got you something.” Tanya handed me a thin envelope.

  “Aw, guys. You didn’t have to.”

  “
The fundraisers went really well, but we chipped in and thought you’d like this for whenever.”

  I opened the envelope and grinned as I peered inside at a gift card to one of the hottest shoe stores in town. “You guys . . .”

  “Don’t get sappy. It’s only sixty bucks, but they’re having a sale right before prom and you can get some nice heels.”

  “Heels! I’m gonna get some new sneakers.” I hugged them each as Amit approached.

  He didn’t break the moment, but once the girls saw him, they gave me a knowing glance and eased away.

  “Study date?” Amit asked beside my locker.

  “Genius programmer, aren’t we past that?”

  “Excuse to spend a quiet lunch with you.”

  “I sort of wanted to eat with Lily today.”

  “Blowing me off? Just kidding. It’s fine. I should spend some time with Vinni and the guys.”

  “Thanks.”

  He touched my elbow, winked, and walked down the hall while I pulled out my lunch tote full of carbs and other high-calorie food. Behind it, peaking out of my backpack, was the dupatta. I didn’t remember putting it in there, neatly folded into a small square. I took it, rolled it up, and clutched it behind the cover of the tote.

  I spotted Rayna’s glorious hair on my way to the cafeteria.

  “Are you all right? Did you talk with Amit?” she asked.

  “I am, and I did. Did you and Saanvi make up?”

  “No. She’s changed a lot over the semester, especially since this whole thing with Dev went down. I feel awful that I let things get this far.”

  I shrugged. “I wish you’d seen this before.”

  “I know. I told my parents what she’d done . . . what I let happen. And they, of course, were pissed and told her parents.”

  I laughed. “Don’t bring desi parents into the mix.”

  “She’s in a lot of trouble with everyone. She got put on probation with the dance team.”

  “Dang. That’s harsh.”

  “Can’t have that at mandir, you know?” She bit back her last word. “Sorry. I know they’ve done much worse to you. They should’ve stopped all that before. It’s not the same, ya know? Things are different. People are more liberal now, more accepting and diverse.”

  “I guess . . .” Didn’t mean all of my insecurities would just vanish into thin air.

  “If you ever want to go back or attend a festivity, I’d be happy to go with you.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “I know it’s hard for you there. I saw how happy you were at Holi. I want to see that again. Of course, maybe you were happy because you practically drowned Saanvi with the water gun.”

  “Ha! You saw that!” I wished someone had taken a video so I had something to cherish.

  “Everyone saw that.” We walked alongside one another to the cafeteria, mixing into the moving crowd. “For the best if she’s like that. I hope everything worked out with Amit. I know you like him.”

  “What?” I asked, trying to play it off.

  She side-eyed me. “If Saanvi can see it, everyone can.”

  “That obvious?”

  “About as obvious as how much he likes you. And I mean really, really, really likes you.”

  I blushed.

  “Uh huh. See? So obvs. Are y’all going to prom together?”

  “No. I wasn’t planning on going.”

  “Why not?”

  “Dances and me don’t go well together.”

  “How do you know?”

  “We were in dance group together. You should know.”

  “I mean school dances. It’s different. Maybe a slow dance, those are easy. Or no dances, that’s even easier. Anyway, Janak asked me to prom.”

  “Really? I didn’t know you two were a thing.”

  She shrugged and searched through the crowd to find him in a faraway corner talking to a few guys. “We were talking for a few weeks and then last week, he popped the question at dinner.”

  “Like a marriage proposal?”

  She giggled. “That’s what it felt like, but nothing more than a one-night commitment. I’m pretty sure. But I was hoping we could do a couples’ thing. Get all dressed up in a lengha or chaniya choli.”

  “That sounds fun. If I go.” I mean, I had the chaniya choli part. I just hadn’t decided for sure if I wanted to go or not.

  “Hasn’t Amit asked you?”

  “He sort of asked me. I said no, not my thing.”

  “It would be so much fun! The six of us.”

  “Six?” I asked suspiciously. “Don’t tell me . . .” Not with Saanvi!

  “With Lily and Jared.”

  “Oh! Okay, that does sound a little fun.”

  “A little? We gonna tear it up. Will you have time to shop? We can always do a girls’ trip to Houston.”

  “That’s cool. Shopping plus Houston traffic,” I said sarcastically. Neither were fun.

  She bumped into me. “Downer.”

  “Let me think about it.”

  We strolled into the cafeteria and there was Amit. On the end of a corner table with his friends facing the doorway as if he waited for me to walk in. Suddenly, there was no one else. No Rayna, no hundreds of students chatting, laughing, eating, studying, walking around, goofing off.

  There was just us.

  Everyone else melted into blurred faces and blurred strokes of color. My heart raced and sweat formed on my temple. Was I hallucinating? Was I actually getting ready to fight or was I about to . . .

  Before I knew what was happening, my feet had taken control and walked me to the table. His table, where he smirked upon my stalling. His friends slowly took notice too. They gradually came in and out of focus amid the ambiguous color blob around us.

  Well, this was awkward. How did one go about doing this sort of stuff?

  “Hi,” I said. Smooth, real smooth. What was wrong with me? We were just talking three minutes ago.

  “Hi,” he replied.

  I ignored the clamminess growing on my palms and focused solely on Amit. “So, about that dance thing. We should go together.”

  There, fast, like pulling off a bandage.

  He didn’t react immediately, didn’t light up or respond with a resounding, “Yes!” Would he decline? What if he did? What would he do if this situation were reversed? He’d play it off and ask me later. He’d ask again and again in a variety of ways and settings until I realized our kismet was to attend prom as a couple.

  The guys looked from Amit to me and back to him.

  When he didn’t say anything (maybe his words of joy were caught in his throat and he needed more of that soda on his tray), I gave my tense shoulders some slack. “Just breaking my heart all over the place, Amit.”

  “Wait. Are you asking me to prom?”

  “Guess so.” Why was my heart racing? Was I sweating? Ew. Muay Thai sweat I could take. Sweating from nerves because of talking to a guy, I could not.

  “Is that how you ask a guy to prom? I was expecting a little romance or something.”

  I grinned. “I don’t think you could handle me getting romantic.”

  “I mean, I’ve only dreamt of this moment since freshman year, and that was nothing like I’d imagined it would be. Don’t girls go all out these days? With flowers and balloons and doves?”

  I laughed. “Is that a yes or a no?”

  He rose from the table of nodding, grinning friends to stand beside me just out of their earshot. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? Are you making me get flowers and balloons and doves? Because I will romance the crap out of a promposal.”

  He laughed. “No. Although . . . wait . . . maybe I do want to get romanced.”

  I playfully hit his arm. “Amit?”

  “I’ll go with you on one
condition.”

  “Which is what?”

  “I want you to wear whatever you want and I’ll match. No questions asked.”

  “Did you think I’d wear something that I didn’t want to wear?”

  He twisted his lips in an adorable way. “You want to wear a sparkly gown or a sleeveless sequined dress with a slit up the side? I mean, you’d look great in anything, to be honest.”

  “I wasn’t planning on a traditional prom dress.”

  “What are you going to wear?”

  “I’m thinking jeans and boots. Basically, what I’m wearing right now.”

  He glanced me over with appreciative, lingering eyes. “Well, every Texan should own a cowboy hat and I’ve been meaning to get one. You think white or black Stetson?”

  I laughed. “I’m planning on wearing a chaniya choli.”

  “Really?” he arched his brows in disbelief.

  “Yep. Why not? We can rock the heck out of our culture at an American prom in the heart of the South. And don’t act like you didn’t talk to my mom about this already.”

  “Caught red-handed. I had to ask her permission first.”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek, imagining a very nervous Amit asking my parents for permission to take me on a date. “That is probably the cutest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

  “So she approved?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know my parents already adore you, asking you to dinner and getting me a dress for prom.”

  “You’re wearing it?”

  I nodded.

  He narrowed his eyes. “What color are we talking?”

  “Pink. Duh.”

  “I don’t have anything pink, woman.”

  “And pista.” I grinned big.

  “You’re killing me.” His head fell back at the mere thought of trying to find something pink and pistachio to match me.

  “What?” I tugged on his collar. “I think you’d look super-hot in a pista sherwani. And since you offered to match me in whatever I wear . . . no backsies.”

  I pulled out the pistachio green shawl lined in baby pink from behind my tote and handed it to him. “You can match colors with my dupatta. Think of it as a sneak peek.”