The First Life of Vikram Roy (Many Lives Series Book 3) (11 page)

"Do you? I can't see it from where I am." I'm not going to make it easy for her.

"You make me feel … good, Vik. I feel safe with you."

What am I? Her brother? I laugh a little.

"Good? That's it? Well I don't feel that good. You led me on. Used what I felt for you. Used it against me." I can't hide the bitterness in my voice.

"It's not that, Vik ... I was confused. You know. I really do like you. It's just, just …" She hesitates, an uncertain look in her eyes. She blinks; swallows, and her eyes skitter away.
 

I watch her throat move. That lovely, soft, shimmery skin of hers.

"It wasn't enough, was it?" The plastic glass in my hand crumples completely, spilling the remaining beer over me, but I don't notice.

"Well, Amar …" She looks over her shoulder. A quick glance. Sudden. On her face is a look of … fear? Adoration? She half hero-worships him.
 

"You're afraid of him, aren't you?" I ask suddenly.

"Of course not …" Her eyes go wide. She seems frightened. Confused. "But … but he's so good-looking. Isn't he?" she says.

"Is that all that matters?" Of course, that's all it's about.
 

She doesn't reply, just bites down on her lips and hugs herself a little. She looks so uncomfortable. I feel sad, feel sorry for her. She's too taken by Amar. She can't really see me. She's
never
seen me. I take pity on her.
 

"He's waiting for you, Ashley," I say.

"Uh—?" My sudden change of subject takes her off guard. What did she expect? That I would plead with her to stay?

"Go Ash." I look away; look back at the stage I can't see. The noise around me fades. There's white static in my ears. A fog descends over my eyes. I stay staring. Will not look as she moves away. Let her go.
 

Come back. Come back, Ash, I want to scream.
 

***

After the jam session I walk back with the band to the dorm. Me and Tenzin lead the way, through the winding Himalayan roads. It's quiet, and so dark we can barely see a few feet in front of us. The October chill seeps into our bones. Tenzin hands over the whisky bottle and I take a swig, letting the liquid burn down my throat. It warms me up. Tenzin can always be trusted to provide the right medicine at the right time. He staggers against me and I put my arm around his shoulders to steady him.
 

The stench of stale beer shoots off him. He's been swigging it all night and now it's as if he's dragging the bar with him wherever we go. I feel sober. Too sober. Stone cold sober. I tilt the bottle and take another healthy gulp. It fires up my insides, only wakes me up more.

"Girls!" he slurs. "Never trust them, bro. Never. We're better off without them."

I don't say anything. Just let him talk.

"That Ash … I knew she was never serious about you. Should have warned you. Now look at you. Broken heart and all."

I can't deny that. Though she'd made it clear earlier that she preferred Amar to me, only now, after our earlier conversation, does it feel like we are really breaking up. Not that we were ever together. Not like
that
, at least. I don't say anything, not aloud, and Tenzin continues talking.

"I hate girls," he says aloud. It's all for my benefit of course.

"You should talk," I finally say. "You've got them lined around the block, following you everywhere."

"That's the problem, too many of them. How do I choose? Anyway, I'd rather hang with you. I missed you, bro!" He hugs me, and, to my surprise, sobs. Deep, wounded, from-the-soul sobs that are wrenched out only when you're drunk and almost senseless. So gone that you don't care about hiding anymore. You can show your real feelings without worrying you're making a fool of yourself.

"Yeah, I missed you too." I hug him back.
 

So that's how Tenzin and I made up. We stay friends all through the rest of our time at boarding school, and later. Friends for life, and in death.
 

SIXTEEN

Tenzin bursts into our room where I am doing my homework. "Hey Vik, your dad's here to see you," he says panting in excitement.

"No way, you kidding?"
 

"Nope, he's there in the visitor area. They asked me to come get you."

Dad, here? So suddenly? Has something happened? An accident? A death? No, no. Worse. They're getting a divorce.
 

I spring out of my seat and run down two floors, ducking among those playing basketball in the Quad and into the main building. Passing the main reception, I run to the visitor room, stopping only when I reach the entrance. It's Dad all right. His back is turned to me and he is staring out the window.
 

He turns as I enter. "Vikram!"

His face seems normal and he even smiles at me. I let myself relax then. Running to him, I hug him firmly. I am as tall as his six feet two inches, having put on a growth spurt in the last few months. He feels strong, his muscles firm against my bony arms.

"You're so skinny. Aren't you eating at all?" He ruffles my hair.

"Of course I am, Dad. I can't seem to get enough food inside me before I burn it all off though."

"Thank your stars. Wait till you get to be my age." He pats his still-flat stomach below the buttoned-down white shirt.
 

"A tie, Dad?" Dad loves his suits, but I rarely see him in a tie.

"Work. I was in the vicinity, thought I'd drop in."

I laugh. "Right. Like drop
up
almost 3,000 feet above sea level."

"I wanted to see you, Vik." He leads me to the sofa.

Something in his voice makes me look at him closely. His face is gaunter that I remember, and his eyes look tired. For the first time I notice the greys at his temples. In Dad's case it just makes him look a little more dashing.

"When I grow up I want to be just like you, Dad." I am not sure where that came from, but I mean it.

"It's nice you haven't yet turned into a sulky teen." He smiles but there seems to be a sad edge to it. "You are a far better person than me."

"Dad, please," I say, taken aback by the praise.

"Anyway, look, I came here to give you this." He hands over the black leather briefcase he is carrying.

"What's this?"

"I need you to keep it for me, Vik."

"Of course I will … but what's in it, Dad?"

"Open it when the time comes."

"You are not making any sense, Dad."
 

"You'll know when it's the right time." Placing his hands over mine, he squeezes it firmly.

"You're scaring me now." I look at him worriedly. "Is everything okay at work?"
 

He nods.
 

"Are you off on another crazy spy assignment you can't tell us anything about?"

He nods again, a small smile on his face. I know better than to ask what the mission is about.

"If something happens to me …"

"Dad, honestly. You always say that and scare me." It's true though. Before every assignment, Dad's always turned to me and made me promise to look after the family if anything happens to him. I should be used to it by now. But each time he takes on another assignment, fear strikes me anew. It's as if he has lived through so many deaths in one lifetime.

"If something happens to me, I want you to promise that you'll still go to Oxford and complete your degree."

"Oxford?"

"You are applying there, aren't you?"

I nod. "But there's no guarantee I'll get in."

"You will." He drops his hand to his side and leans back against the sofa before loosening his tie. He suddenly looks his age. Dad's only fifty. But the tilt of the light just then darkens the hollows below his cheeks, bringing out the fine lines on his forehead.
 

"Promise you'll go to Oxford and complete your education regardless of what happens."

"What's going to happen, Dad?"

"Nothing." He grins, shakes his head, and with that, the dark cloud that had threatened to cloak us for a few seconds is dispelled.

He slaps me on the back and gets to his feet. "Nothing at all. But I just wanted you to know; all the financial arrangements have been made. When you get admitted to Oxford, if for some reason I am unreachable, just speak to my lawyer and he will release all the money you need."

He pulls out a card and hands it over. I pocket it without looking at it.
 

"Why would I speak to a lawyer, anyway, when I have you?"

"Of course you come to me first … But if I am on assignment and you need access to funds …" He lets the words hang in the air.

"Dad, what—?"

He gets to his feet and holds out his hand. "Come on, I need a beer."

I walk out the door with him, just as my English teacher passes by. "Vikram." She greets me before her eyes pass my dad and back to his face.

"And this is?"

"Dad … Meet Ms Hermes, my English teacher."

I can already see from the glazed look in Hermes' eyes that she finds Dad attractive. He's always had this effect on women.
 

I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to be like him, to be able to turn on that charisma whenever I needed it. Now that would be a real gift.

SIXTEEN

Lose a girl. Fall in love with a game. Fair exchange?

I do miss my weekly cricket sessions with Ash. I got to be better than her at the game a long time ago. The only reason I kept turning up for practice was to see her. Thanks to her, I discovered a love for cricket. One that would last a lifetime. As it turns out, I am a far better player than her … Or Amar. Good enough to make it to the school's official cricket team. Of course, it helps that while everyone wants to get into the basketball team, not many want to go for the cricket team. But I'm not complaining. I'll take any opportunity I can to play the game.

As for the Ash-shaped hole in my heart … well I don't know it then, but it'll be gone. Soon. Filled over with other memories. Leaving just a light scar behind. Guess I didn't feel as much for her as I thought I did.
 

Between prepping for grade twelve exams and playing cricket, I feel like my every waking hour is packed. I spend all my spare time with Tenzin and his friends, which is how I come to be hanging out in the mall at Mussoorie instead of hitting the books. But Tenzin had insisted and so here we are.

Clad uniformly in jeans, hoodies and baseball hats, the boys look pretty slick. Tenzin wears a brand new
Lacquer
jersey, another gift among the many he receives from home on a weekly basis. Me—I like my faded old leather bomber jacket. My concession to fitting in with the boys is my very own pair of
Wu-Tang
jeans. There's just something badass about them. It's a brand I am going to stick to, especially in the more trying times of my life ahead.

Not that you'd know it that day, as the five of us swagger up the strip in the town centre. It's August, just a few months into the start of the school year. The sun is just beginning its descent, and the shop lights twinkle on, one by one. We perch at the gang's customary spot. It's a bench at the edge of the mall. If you look down you can see the rest of the town spread out one way. Look the other direction and the entire mall spreads out before you. More importantly, you can see every single girl who walks by. It also gives them a clear view to check
us
out.
 

"So remember, stay cool. Don't give these girls the time of the day," Tenzin lectures as I take in the scene. "Especially this girl, Miriam—Mirri—boy, I so want to get into her pants. But, you know, got to act all casual around them. Let them come to you, know what I mean?"

"The Italians call this
passeggiata
," I say to Tenzin, as I stand next to him at the bench.

The others sprawl in various poses, meant to convey casual disregard of their surroundings. All of them have a lit cigarette that they puff at. Tenzin offers me one, which I refuse. "What the fuck is passe … passage … dude?"

"It's an Italian tradition," I say. "A gentle stroll in the evening through the town centre—for which you are meant to dress up, of course—and then you walk through the piazza, to see and be seen."

"Yeah, whatever, man." Tenzin puffs away on his cigarette, coughing a little. "You going to Italy or something?"

"Nope, Oxford probably. It's just … this reminds me of a
passeggiata
, Indian-style."

"Dude," he taps me on my forehead, "all that studying is frying your brains. You need to get out more often. Check out the girls … know what I mean?"

"Hmm! You need both brains and muscles … dude." I grin, but I know what he means. The flame I've been carrying for Ash has died a natural death, but it's left me with a bitter aftertaste. No, I don't think I am headed anywhere near girls anywhere soon. I might look at them, but that's about it for now.
 

"Hey, Tinny!" A girl in mini skirt, boots over her knees, leather jacket zipped up to enhance the thrust of her breasts, approaches us.
 

"Tinny?" Did she really call him that? I chuckle. Once. Before wiping all expression off my face.
 

"Hey, Mirri," Tenzin nods. He's playing it super cool, but his body is wound tight; he is almost vibrating in anticipation, hoping to speak with her.

"Who's your friend here?" She nods at me.

I raise an eyebrow at her and almost choke at the surprise on Tenzin's face. Apparently she's interested in me. The rest of the boys are watching us, too distracted to smoke now.

"Ah, my friend, Vik. Vik, meet Mirri."
 

I nod, unsure what to do next. Then I put out my hand, and when she places her smaller palm in mine, I kiss it. "Enchanted," I say.

The boys around me chuckle. But Miriam takes no heed. Taking a step forward, she looks up and her eyes round with interest. Curling a strand of hair around her forefinger, she asks, "So, you want to go see a movie?"

Charm. It definitely gets you everywhere.

SEVENTEEN

"… Often think this is where lost souls come to forget about the real world for a while."