The Rearranged Life (30 page)

“So you’re mad at me too,” I say what he won’t.

“I’m disappointed. I never expected this from you. I thought we taught you better.”

Though he hasn’t raised his voice, I would rather he yelled at me. To hear my favorite person in the world tell me I’ve let him down is the worst kind of depressing. My stomach plummets through the ground, and the hollow space in my chest fills with regret.

“How can I make it better?” I ask, determined to comfort him as he’s always comforted me.

“I wish I knew, Nithya. I wish I knew,” he tells me sadly.

I hear fumbling in the background, and Anisha shouts that she needs to go somewhere.

“Luckily, I have another daughter to stress me out,” he says lightly, and I know the shift in his tone is to prevent Anisha from knowing the full extent of the drama her sister is causing. Preventing the loss of her innocence makes up for my own transgressions.

“Hi, Akka!” she shouts.

“Hey, kid,” I reply, a lump forming in my throat again as I wonder if I’m setting a bad example. Is she going to look at me someday as someone who stands up for what they believe in or an example of what not to become?

“I have to go drop her off, Nithya,” Nanna says.

“Okay… I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

“Nithya?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. Don’t forget that.”

When I hang up, the tears finally come.

’ve turned my honors’ thesis in this week on my research lab work related to antioxidants and immune function. Sophia loves any cause for celebration, so she tells us we are going to Indigo tonight. I still have a lab report to write for histology, so I’ll meet Luca, Sophia, and James there. Schoolwork and dancing will be a good distraction.

I spend a few hours writing the paper, but it is punctuated by distracted thinking breaks, which makes the process that much slower. I wonder how Amma will tell Aunty that Nishanth and I won’t be dating.
She doesn’t have to tell if she doesn’t want to
. But it’s a small comfort. And what about everything else? The accusations of messing up my medical school prospects because I was with James, the disgrace I’m bringing on my family, the bad example I might set for Anisha… They all replay in my mind over and over. Finally, I just can’t take it anymore.

“You look beautiful,” James says when I’ve joined them at their booth around midnight. The place is packed already, the booths lit by flower-shaped lamps.

“Congratulations! College is pretty much over for you!” Sophia cries out, a shot in one hand. She hands me a Shirley Temple, my go-to drink of choice, with the other.

“College is almost over for all of us. Hell, yes!” Luca clinks his beer with James’.

“How was your paper?” The fact that James remembers these things is one of the many things I adore about him.

“Good, it’s just been a long day,” I tell him. I don’t mention my parents’ phone calls. It seems whiny to complain about it here, when everyone is having a good time. I knew they would be upset, so this is par for the course. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I try to dance it off all the while wondering if I should be studying and focusing on school more.

My favorite song by Jay Sean comes on, and I take it as a hint to let it go. I pull James onto the dance floor. He is a good dancer, but I suppose anyone can be with confidence. Half the fun is because he’s goofy, spinning me in circles and making up moves with Luca that look ridiculous. Everyone within a three-mile radius can tell he doesn’t take himself too seriously.

The hours blur together. Sophia and Luca join us on the floor. This group of four has become so close, I can’t imagine spending the long nights with anyone else anymore. It’s funny how that happens. One second you’re going through your life thinking everything is complete, and then special people show up and you realize how much more was possible.

“Can we not end tonight? Let’s go watch a movie!” Sophia sways with Luca’s arms around her and her eyes sparkle. The club closes in twenty minutes.

“I’m in,” James says. “Just let me grab one last drink.”

“I want another water,” I add, trailing him.

He lets out a shout when he gets to the bar as he recognizes the person next to him. They high-five and hug as James introduces me to Paul, a stocky and handsome blond.

“Paul was a co-captain on THON with me. This is his girlfriend Carla,” he tells me, and a girl with the Greek letter
zeta
on her necklace flips her hair over her shoulder.

Paul says a couple other committee members are at a booth, and James says he wants to say hi and that he’ll be right back.

Carla sidles up to me at the bar. “So, you’re dating James?”

“I am!” Pride bubbles in me. It’s like being the girlfriend of someone famous. A mini-celebrity.

“When did you guys start dating?”

“About three months ago.” It feels like a lifetime. Like it could be a lifetime still. I ask about her and Paul, but she looks around and doesn’t pay attention. I wonder what’s taking so long–the frazzled bartenders serve more profitable drinks toward the end of their shift, and should be used to the uptick in orders.

“Hey, have you told your parents yet?” Carla stage whispers.

“I’m sorry?” I hope she didn’t ask me what I know she did.

“You know, your parents.” She says this so exaggeratedly, I wonder if she thinks I, in fact, don’t. “James told us you didn’t tell them you were dating because of your religion.”

“Oh. Um…” I’m not the best person when I’m flustered to come back with a coherent response.

“Are they going to, like, disown you? I heard about this Muslim girl who was killed for dating someone different. You’re not going to be killed, are you?”

“No, I’m not… It’s not even about religion. Even if it was, it’s really not anyone else’s bus–” I stammer. Where’s an eloquent answer about religion, culture, and understanding diversity when you need one?

“I’m sure you have something really special,” she says with a look on her face like she doesn’t believe it, “but don’t you think it must be hard on him? I can’t imagine dating someone who has to hide me away.”

I wish I could tell her someone should, so she could stop spewing her ignorance. She takes a swig of her beer, oblivious to the many shades of red my face must be turning. I can’t tell if she’s drunk or not.

“Who are we talking about, James?” Another girl walks up to Carla. I vaguely recognize her, but can’t place her. “Oh, are we talking about his girlfriend’s parents? How crazy is that?”

“I’m his girlfriend,” I announce, loudly enough to elicit staged embarrassment.

“Oh. Sorry! That must be so hard.” She pats my arm with fake sympathy.

“Actually, no. My parents love him. They love how happy we are.” That is an exaggeration of legendary proportions, but I just want them to shut up. “Excuse me,” I say, leaving zeta girl and her friend behind.

When we get back to the apartment, we all settle into the couches to watch a movie. Not that I care about whatever’s on. I’m a million miles away.

What was James thinking? Luca knows. Tommy knows. It’s not about secrecy. It’s the close-minded people that bother me, the ones who don’t even try to understand where others are coming from. To think anyone could ever possibly imagine my parents hurting me because I fell in love! I give an involuntary shudder. Does James feel that way? Had he confessed as much? The more I think about him spilling the beans, the angrier I get.

The anger isn’t the dominant feeling though. The loneliness is. Today, my mother, who has loved me unconditionally until now and always served as a listening ear, expressed how I had betrayed the years of loyalty she had invested in me. My father, the only person I’ve ever needed in my court and who has ever fully understood all the cobwebbed, musty parts of my disorganized soul, told me I let him down. And then this girl, with one sentence, has planted the seed that James may not be as happy as I thought.

That’s not fair, you told friends about the situation
–
don’t be a two-faced bitch. James can tell whoever he wants and people are going to react
. I rub my temples. My head feels so full it threatens to explode.

“Hey, I’m going to bed,” I whisper to James quietly.

“I’ll come with.” He stands and announces to Sophia we’re turning in.

For all her insistence on a fun night, her eyes flutter too. Luca shakes his head in amusement, and we head to my room. James waits outside until I change into pajamas before he comes in and settles in on my bed.

“You’ve been quiet, are you okay?” he asks as I pull the covers back.

“I had a couple interesting conversations today… One with Carla and another with my mom.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Did you tell your THON committee about my parents?” I get straight to the point.

“I told a couple of people. They were asking about you, and it came up. Why?” He is nonplussed.

“Because Carla asked me if I told my parents yet.”

“Okay, and why are you upset?” His calmness infuriates me further.

“Do you know she asked if it’s because of my religion? Which, to be clear, it’s my culture. Big difference. Secondly,” I rant, “who does she think she is, gossiping about my life? Do you know how it feels to be asked if you’re concerned your parents might mercy kill you?”

“So, I’m not allowed to tell anyone we’re going through this?”

“Not people like her!”

“Well, now that you made it clear it’s your culture, not your religion… Which, by the way, is something I know and respect, so let me have my say. I didn’t tell Carla. Carla overheard Tommy, Ryan, and me talking about it. I didn’t go shouting it from rooftops,” James says sharply. I open my mouth to speak, but he continues. “I was just telling the guys it was hard being told you aren’t good enough for someone you want to be with. None of it makes sense to me.”

“She made it sound like my parents are evil. They’re the best things in my life, besides you.”

“I know,” he says, gently, and I feel a little better. “But, Nithya, you have to understand this is really different for people here. You can’t blame her for thinking the worst of something she can’t understand.”

“Wait… Are you seriously defending her?” The feeling of comfort vanishes.

“No, I’m not defending
her
or even what she’s saying. I know your family means a lot to you, and I respect that. I’m just saying it’s really different, and people don’t always understand.”

“I see. I don’t understand that, but then again, I didn’t grow up in a box.”

“Look, Nithya, my point is this. Fuck them all. I don’t understand why it matters if someone thinks something so stupid about you. You know it’s not true.”

“It’s
everything
, James. In a five second conversation, she managed to cram in that my parents are horrible, you’re being hidden away, we don’t have anything special, and that our lives have become gossip. Do you know what that feels like?”

“No, I don’t, but–”

“It sucks, James.” I swipe at my leaking eyes. “You feel like you’re always screwing someone over. My parents called me today, and my mom called me ungrateful. She told me I’m throwing all of their sacrifices back in their faces. Then this girl tells me I’m screwing you over because I’m hiding you away. She asked if I thought you deserved better.”