Fish Out of Water (17 page)

After my shift is over, I practically run to clock out, happy to get away from my conflicting feelings. I need
saag
and Shrey and some
Princess Bride
like hardcore. But when I go to unlock my bike, I notice something in the basket. Something with a bow tied around it. I grab the note tucked under the ribbon and read it.

I know it’s not as nice as the sweater, but it made me think of you. —Dylan

Picking up the box, I open the lid to find a teal blue shirt with a little cartoon goldfish on the front. Under the fish it says:
Stupid? I’m not the pet who pees on your bed.
At which point my heart threatens to melt.

The t-shirt might not cost three hundred dollars, but I love it more because it fits me. How can he already know exactly what I like? Punk.

#

It’s weird to see the Shades of Bombay kitchen minus Pavan. Shreya’s other two brothers seem more frantic as they try to fill orders. Their father is livid with them, yelling stuff I’m glad I don’t understand. I never noticed before, but I think Pavan was the chill one who evened out the tempers around him.

Shrey cringes as she comes over with my
saag
when their other waiter clocks in
.
“Sorry for the crazy. Dad won’t hire a new cook, but keeping up is impossible without…”

Knowing she can’t say his name, I nod. “Thanks for this. Work was rough.”

“Am I allowed to ask why?” She glares at me, and I feel guilty that I still haven’t told them what happened on Saturday.

I sigh. Time to give in. “Because I don’t know what to do with Dylan.”

As I launch into the story, it reminds me just how wonderful and horrible that day was. Shrey lights up when I tell her Dylan wants us to be more, but by the time I get to the five million dollars she looks as confused as I feel.

She puts her hand to her mouth, thinking. I continue to stuff my face. She takes a piece of
naan
and nibbles on it. “How do you spend that much money in one night?”

“I know!” I let out a frustrated grunt. “But more importantly, what kind of person thinks that’s okay? His parents are freaking loaded, but he had to have understood how much money that was, right?”

She nods. “How could you not?”

I lean back in my chair, wishing I could stay here instead of having to watch Betty. “It’s not the money that bothers me anymore—it’s the fact that he
knew
what he was doing. He wasted that money
on purpose.
It wasn’t like he got carried away. How could I be with someone who’d do that?”

“
Did
that,” Shreya corrects. “You think he’d still make the same choice if he could do it over?”

“I don’t know…” I want to point out he’s already spent his whole paycheck like it was nothing. Except he spent it on me, so I don’t know how to feel about it. “I’m in way over my head here, Shrey.”

She puts her hand on mine. “You should probably let him explain.”

“Yeah.” I get up, my stomach twisting from all the food. “But I still need to think about it.”

“Do you?” Her look is skeptical. “Or are you afraid of what this could be?”

I narrow my eyes. “Don’t get all deep on me.”

She laughs. “We’re on for Saturday, right?”

“As you wish.”

I pedal home, trying my best to focus on anything but Dylan. The ocean breeze, the gulls squawking, the warm summer sun. By the time I get home, I’m ready to put my energy into taking care of Betty—I need to make up for what I said to her—instead of worrying about my own problems. At least until I open the door and hear her screaming like a crazed animal.

Chapter 25

You’re going to hell and you’ll burn forever!” Betty screams over and over. I almost want to go back to Shades of Bombay, but I can’t leave Joel hanging. He probably has another person to care for in the afternoons, and he shouldn’t have to deal with more of this than he has to.

“Now, Betty. That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone.” I have to hand it to Joel, he sounds completely unfazed by the outburst.

“I don’t care! You’re going to hell!”

I reluctantly round the corner. Joel smiles like this is totally normal and gives me a hug. “She’s been an
angry
one today. I tried to calm her down, but she finally caught on to my orientation.”

I wince. “I’m so sorry.”

He waves it off. “Patients lose social rules quickly. Women who used to be prim and proper start swearing like sailors. Those who had few reservations to begin with let it all hang out, you know?”

“Oh, yes, I know. How do you keep it from bothering you?”

He shrugs. “Mostly I feel sorry for them.”

Finally, Betty notices I’m in the room. Her eyes go wide and she pulls at my arm. “Get away from him, Mika!”

I pull back. “Why?”

“Because!” She points accusingly. “He’s…he’s a homo-sapien!”

Joel and I bust up laughing, to the point that I have to lean on the wall to keep from falling over. Joel wipes at tears as he continues to giggle. Betty’s indignant glare only makes it more priceless.

“I hate to break it to you,” I say. “But we’re
all
homo-sapiens, Betty.”

Her jaw drops. “I am
not
!”

“You are. Homo-sapien means human.”

She frowns, thinking about it for a second. “That’s really what it means?”

I nod.

“Oh.” She glances at Joel, seeming apologetic, but then goes to the couch to watch her usual afternoon blitz of talk shows. I stare at her in wonder—she can go from a moment of complete crazy to totally normal in seconds. Every day with her is like sticking a quarter in a slot machine. Sometimes you hit the jackpot, others you lose money.

Joel is still laughing. “Can’t wait to tell that one at the dinner table.”

I snort. “Me, too.”

He sighs, for once showing some of his fatigue. “She’ll probably be a beast for the rest of the day, maybe longer than that. From nostalgia last week to cranky this week, it seems.”

“I think I prefer nostalgia.” At least that way I could learn about her past. Now that I’ve decided to be better to her, I’d like to understand why she is the way she is before she forgets everything.

“Yes, me too. At least when they’re happy memories.”

“Can I ask you something?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Of course.”

I hesitate because it will show how my attitude has changed, but I’m curious. “It just seems like this job would be hard to do all the time, watching people go through this over and over again. Why do you do it?”

“So you’re starting to get it.” He smiles at Betty, a surprising amount of love in his gaze. “For people who don’t see Alzheimer’s up close, it’s easy to forget about. The patients forget, so people forget them, right?”

“That’s…sad.”

“It is.” Joel’s face changes then, and it’s the first time I’ve seen a hint of sorrow there. “But when you watch someone you love go through it—you never forget. I watched my grandmother suffer from it for eight years, and now my mother has been diagnosed with early onset. It could be me one day, too. I guess it’s my own little crusade to bring some joy to all the sadness.”

I smile, feeling bad for giving him a hard time. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Thanks for answering my question.”

“Anytime, sweetie.” Joel gathers his things, briefs me on what Betty ate, and then he’s off.

Betty wastes no time living up to Joel’s warnings—she doesn’t like
anything
today. She doesn’t like the TV shows or the sound of the aquariums or the entire contents of both our fridge and pantry. As patient as I try to be, she doesn’t seem to notice or care. When she throws the remote at me, I just about lose it.

“Okay, no more TV,” I say.

She folds her arms. “Everyone is mean to me. You shouldn’t be mean to sick people.”

I clench my jaw, trying to remain calm. I promised I would be better at this, and the over-achiever in me will not fail. “Let’s watch a movie, okay?”

Betty doesn’t speak, but her posture relaxes.

I take the opening and head for our movie drawer. “I have the best movie—you’ll love it.”

“What’s it about?” Her voice has softened, and I pray this will turn the day around because cranky Betty is way more exhausting than nostalgic Betty.

“You’ll see.” I put in
The Princess Bride
, figuring it’s better not to give her a summary. She’d probably complain that she doesn’t like those kinds of movies and it’d be over before it even began.

Betty looks as unconvinced as the boy in the opening scene, but says nothing. I hope this is a good sign. She seems excited when Westley and Buttercup fall in love. That’s when I realize I made a critical error in choosing this film. Sure enough, her face turns sour when Westley leaves.

“I don’t like him. He doesn’t really love her,” Betty says. “He left her, and then he’s stupid enough to get killed.”

“But he left to earn money so they could get married,” I point out.

She shakes her head. “If he really loved her—if she really loved him—would the money have mattered? They could have gotten married without money. All you need is a marriage license and a priest, for Pete’s sake. They’re stupid.”

I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes. Betty is right, after all. “You get hung up on abandonment, don’t you?”

“All the Arlington women are cursed. Men always leave us—my mother, my grandmother, even perfect beautiful Gracie couldn’t escape. You won’t either.” Her expression is grim, but I try not to let it affect me.

“I don’t believe in curses, and my mom and dad are still together.”

She gives me a side-glance. “You’ve never had a boy leave you before?”

I shift in my seat, uncomfortable with the truth. “No.”

She looks surprised. “Really?”

“Really.” I always make sure to leave first, to not get so attached that separating will hurt. Because deep down, getting left behind by someone I care about is the thing I fear most. I’ve always made sure the guys I’m with are completely safe, the kind that wouldn’t break up with me. Maybe I didn’t love them, but I liked them and knew I’d be the one to leave if I wanted.

Dylan isn’t like that—he’s a risk. He doesn’t have any history of commitment. He’s here indefinitely, meaning there’s no easy escape route. And worst of all, I could see myself falling for him. 

“Just wait until you find someone you really love. When he leaves…” She sighs, her pain palpable. “You’ll know the curse is real.”

I don’t answer, scared to reveal in any way that she might have gotten to me. Cursed. That’s a bunch of crap. It’s an excuse she uses so she doesn’t have to take responsibility for separations. She’s playing the victim. I’m nothing like her…but then why can’t I stop my heart from racing?

Chapter 26

By the time Thursday rolls around, I regret the tank-cleaning agreement. Dylan doesn’t look like he’s about to get punished—he’s
excited.
I can feel it, no matter how hard he tries to hide his smile. There’s a bounce in his step as he goes from tank to tank with his brush. He’s actually really good at cleaning when he takes it seriously.

“My uncle let me borrow his bike,” Dylan says as he pours the clean water into the tank. “He said I could ride home with you.”

“Great,” I grumble, scrubbing my own tank faster.

He deflates. “Is it really that bad?”

“I don’t know.” And it’s the truth. I can’t figure out what’s real when it comes to what I think of Dylan. Sometimes I think I hate him, and I’m getting pulled in by the chemistry. Other times I’m crazy about him, and I want to be his girlfriend like I played at Cypress Point.

“That’s okay.” His voice is soft. “I know enough for both of us.”

“Not how it works.” I put away the cleaning tools, antsy to get out of here. “I usually go out to lunch before I go home. Is that okay?”

His eyes light up. “Yeah, I have a little money left.”

“You’re not paying for me.” I pull off my apron and stuff it onto the island’s shelf.

“How’d you know I was planning that?”

I shrug. “C’mon.”

There’s no way I’m taking him to Shades of Bombay—Shrey would enjoy that too much—so I pedal my way to Su Casa. Dylan is right behind me, which I’m not a fan of because I know he’s checking out my butt. I can feel it.

“Is this place any good?” Dylan asks as we go inside. He looks uncomfortable, his eyes running over the rough interior.

“Best in the area.” I shove him because people are starting to stare at the skittish gringo. “Stop acting like such a rich boy.”

I order two fish tacos, and Dylan gets three beef ones. As he takes the first bite, all the apprehension fades. “Damn, that’s amazing.”

“Told you.” The fried fish crunches perfectly when I take my first bite, the burst of cilantro and lime are so satisfying, the fresh corn tortilla comforting, and the salsa’s heat tops it off. “It’s sad you’ve lived here for so long and never eaten at this place.”

He swallows before he talks. “One taco, and I’m seriously regretting it.”

I try not to, but I smile anyway.

He nods at my food. “With how much you love fish, I didn’t think you’d eat them for lunch.”

“I can’t help that other people kill them, but I can honor the sacrifice by making sure they don’t go to waste.” I grab a napkin to wipe my mouth, too aware of him watching me eat. “Besides, I’m half Japanese—my mom snacks on dried squid for crying out loud. Loving seafood is in my blood.”

He laughs. “So she’s actually from Japan? I didn’t know that.”

“Yup. My dad went there for an internship in college and stayed longer to be with her. When they both got into Stanford for their doctorates, they moved back.” Why I’m telling him this, I don’t know. But it’s nice to talk with him without fighting. “What about your parents? How’d they meet?”

“High school sweethearts.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

He nods, unwrapping another taco. “Picture every cliché possible, and you’ll be pretty close to their reality.”