Thirst (8 page)

“Pity? I’m not trying to boost your ego here, Brittany. You’re a beautiful girl.”

“Drop it, already.”

“No. I won’t, okay? Whatever happened in your life that made you think that you were inadequate is unfortunate. I don’t know how that notion got into your head. You’re drop-dead gorgeous, and I’m not going to argue it anymore.”

Brittany blushed. Andrew spoke with conviction—Brittany was actually starting to believe what he was saying was true. “Don’t you have some party to get to?” Brittany asked.

“Yeah—I thought I’d wait for everyone else before I went.”

“Where are they?” Brittany asked.

“Everyone had other plans, I guess.”

Brittany looked into Andrew’s eyes for a moment.

“Did you still want to go?” Andrew asked.

The university door opened, and Wade emerged from inside. Without noticing Brittany and Andrew, he began his journey home. Brittany watched him over Andrew’s shoulder.

Wade lit a cigarette and began to smoke—something he only did when he was especially stressed out.

“I heard they got a couple of kegs,” Andrew said.

“Sorry—I just think I’m going to call it a night,” Brittany said as she watched Wade walking away.

“Can I walk you home?” Andrew asked.

“I actually need to run a few errands first,” Brittany lied.

“Oh—All right. Just stay safe—okay?”

“Okay, Andrew. Thanks for the pep talk,” said Brittany with a smile, keeping Wade in her peripheral vision.

“And if you feel like venting—getting anything else off of your chest, just give me a ring.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Can I put my number in your phone, so you have it?” Andrew asked.

Brittany felt around for her phone. “I don’t have it on me. Give me yours.”

Andrew handed Brittany his phone. She began to put in her number.

“Just text me, and I’ll have your number.”

Andrew smiled. He meant every word he said to Brittany—she truly was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and he had seen many girls in many different countries.

“Have fun at your party,” Brittany said. She started to walk away, following Wade’s tracks.

“See you later,” Andrew said.

Andrew watched with a blushing smile on his face as his crush walked into the distance. He stuffed his cold hands into his pockets.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

BAD BLOOD

As every second ticked by, the air became noticeably colder.

“You shouldn’t stand out here for too long. You’ll get sick,” a familiar voice called out from behind Andrew.

Andrew turned around.

Tarun was standing with his hands buried in his coat pockets about twenty feet away from Andrew.

It wasn’t the first time they’d ran into one another since they met in India. There had been a number of run-ins, all of which ended on a sour note.

When Andrew’s parents made their property trade with Vish, they were not very honest about their end of the bargain. Sure—they pulled some strings to get them Landing Papers, and they didn’t technically do anything illegal—but they did knowingly take advantage of the poor Indian family.

Vish wanted to take his son to a big city, where there was a good university, and they could live out the “American Dream.” Andrew’s parents told him that Snowbrooke was “a relatively big place” and had “a relatively great university.” Snowbrooke was a relatively big place—relative to a shoebox. And the university was great, relative to the other universities that were within four hundred miles.

Many generations of Mumbar family history was in Vish’s hotel. It was a massive sacrifice to let it go—but he felt it was the right choice for his son, and the future of his family. He was leaving under the impression that he was going to a beautiful new building in a beautiful new city. Andrew’s father showed Vish pictures of Snowbrooke in the summertime—a season that was shorter than a month. He showed Vish pictures of the building’s original listing—from 1972. Vish did not realize that he was agreeing to that property, plus forty years of neglect and decay.

So naturally, after their first Snowbrooke winter, with broken windows, faulty plumbing, mould-covered walls, and a sporadic heating system, Vish and Tarun were resentful. They had been swindled. They gave up their priceless family history and their beautiful hotel for a rotting shack that was not worth a dime.

Tarun could forgive ignorance, but he could not forgive narcissism. As far as he was concerned, Andrew belonged to a family of sociopaths—the kind of people who tore down communities to build shopping centers—the kind of people who set up factories in third world countries to take advantage of legalized slavery—the kind of people who silently bombed small villages in Africa and swept the evidence under the rug, because it made a good place to set up diamond mines. 

“What?” Andrew asked.

“You’re just standing there. You should keep moving, or your joints will freeze.”

“Right,” Andrew said.

“You know—In the two years I’ve lived here, I’ve never really walked around this campus before. Hopefully I’ll get to come here one day,” Tarun said, looking around the dark, snowy campus.

“Hopefully,” Andrew said.

“I hear the physics program isn’t half bad, either.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Andrew said.

“It’s not the best in the country or anything, but they’ve had a number of successful students.”

“Okay. I should be getting home,” Andrew said, turning away from Tarun.

“How’s our hotel?” Tarun asked, walking over to Andrew.

Andrew stopped and turned around. “What hotel?”

Tarun laughed. “What do you mean,
what hotel?
You know what hotel.”

“Sorry—It’s just that you said it was your hotel, but it’s not your hotel. You sold it.”

“We didn’t sell it—we traded it.”

“In that case, how’s our citizenship?”

Tarun looked unimpressed.

“What did I do to you?” Andrew asked.

“Your family cheated my me... My father—my family.”

“Look—I’m sorry that you don’t like the home that my dad gave to you. But I had nothing to do with it then, and I have nothing to do with it now. I haven’t been back to your hotel since the last time you were there.”

“Home? You call it a home? It’s four walls and a leaking roof. That’s no home. What your family took from us was a home.”

“Okay—Fine. You know what? I agree with you. I agree that my father is a slimy businessman. I agree that the hotel in India was beautiful, and that your place now is a dump. When my dad told you about the place, I would have said something if I knew it was a crap shack. But I didn’t know—It’s not like I was in on it.”

“But you know now, and you don’t even pretend to care.”

“Because there’s nothing I can do! I’ve told my dad about it—he doesn’t care. I’m sorry. On behalf of my family, I am sorry.”

“You can’t apologize on behalf of someone who isn’t sorry.”

“Okay then—I’m sorry on behalf of the fact I can’t do anything to help you.”

Tarun stared at Andrew. He knew that Andrew was telling the truth. He knew that he did not really have any reason to be angry with him. However, he could not help himself knowing that Andrew was about to go home to his beautiful house, with his platinum credit card, his stocked refrigerator, and his state of the art heating system.

Tarun took a breath, composing himself. “Well—How is it?” he asked.

“What?”

“The hotel—in India.”

“The last I heard, they were doing some updates,” Andrew said.

“Updates?” Tarun asked.

“Renovating. I didn’t ask them about it—but they wanted to open it up to more sunlight. At least that’s what my mom said.”

“Open it up?”

“Like, open-concept. Make all of the rooms into one big room. It’s what people like these days.”

“Maybe here, but not in India, they don’t.”

“Well—They’re from here, and not from India, unfortunately.”

Tarun wanted to cry. Both his childhood home and his ancestral history were being crushed and demolished, and he could not do anything about it.

“No Indian will want to stay in some ‘open-concept’ hotel,” Tarun said.

“I’ll be sure to let them know,” Andrew said, turning around to leave.

Tarun grabbed Andrew by the arm to stop him from leaving. Andrew pushed away the arm.

“Don’t touch me!” Andrew said swiftly, shoving Tarun back with a sudden shove to the chest.

Tarun grabbed onto Andrew’s collar and pulled him in close. “You say that you can’t do anything about it, but you can. You just don’t want to be bothered. You’re walking around like a blind giant—totally unaware of the lives you’re trampling beneath your feet,” Tarun said passionately.

“Let go of me,” Andrew demanded, his hand curling into a fist.

“For someone who’s been to India, and seen the way people live—how can you be so unsympathetic?”

“I’m not unsympathetic. There’s just nothing I can do.”

“Then you’re just an ignorant waste of life,” Tarun said, dropping Andrew down.

Angry, Andrew swung at Tarun’s side with his fist—making hard contact with his rib. The handsome Indian boy winced in pain for a moment.

“I’m ignorant?” Andrew shouted. “I was on your side! I told my dad not to sell you a place in Snowbrooke. I told him he was being a villain! He didn’t care. You think that I just let him take advantage of you?

“We got in a fight. I told him everything that you wish you could tell him—That he was nothing but a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of his own ignorant self-importance. Do you know what he did? He told me to get out of his face, and to never talk to him again. I have to talk to my mother in secret, or the fat bastard will beat her half to death.” Andrew turned around and started to walk away.

“She’s got a boyfriend, so don’t bother,” Tarun said.

“Don’t bother? Don’t bother with what?”

“You were clearly hitting on her.” Tarun laughed, still hunched over in pain.

“Hitting on who?”

“That little black girl in your class.”

“No, I wasn’t. We’re just friends.”

“You’re drop-dead gorgeous and I’m not going to argue it anymore,” Tarun said, impersonating Andrew’s speech from before.

“What—Were you eavesdropping on us? Is that why you’re here?”

“Never mind,” Tarun said.

“No—Not
never mind
. What are you actually doing here, and how do you know she has a boyfriend—how do you even know who she is?”

“Forgive me for trying to be nice,” Tarun said.

“Are you stalking her?”

“No—Of course not.”

“Of course not? You just happen to be eavesdropping on her conversations in the middle of the night, across town from your house? And apparently you know everything about her personal life?”

Tarun shook his head, cold and tired of arguing. “Enjoy sleeping in your king sized bed, while you watch your big screen TV,” Tarun said as he began to walk away.

“If you lay a finger on her, I’ll have you and your father thrown out of the country.”

Tarun made no reply as he walked away.