How To Salsa in a Sari (16 page)

“Yes, thank God.” Issa had no idea why she was thanking God. “Thank you too.” She giggled. “Thank Ishaan!”

He didn't laugh.

“I'm going to carry you inside. I don't think you're going to make it otherwise.”

She felt like she was floating as he picked her up in his arms and carried her through the front door of the guest house and into her bedroom. She kept her face buried in his neck. He smelled like
chai.
Real cardamom-ginger
chai
. She hadn't had that
chai
in months. Alisha used to make it all the time. Now they only had Diego's Cuban coffee.

His prickly facial hair tickled her cheek as she rubbed her face against him. He was so strong. And warm. And smelled like home. Why couldn't they always be like this? Him taking care of her. No fighting.

“Ishaan, thanks,” Issa mumbled as he laid her on the bed. She felt his arms release her and she reached for him. She pulled his shoulders down onto hers. She didn't want the feeling to end.

“Yeah, sure.” He pried her fingers off his shirt. “I'll call a buddy of mine and bring the Lotus back. Don't worry.”

“Wait…” She felt him stop moving. He was holding her hand. “Come here.”

“What is it?”

She felt his breath on her face. She managed to open one eye and grazed his cheek with her right hand. His lips were just inches away.

“I love you,” Issa heard herself whisper before she touched her lips to his, ever so briefly. An amazing feeling shot through her body and she wanted to do it again. Before she could, he pulled away. “I love you. Don't leave me.”

What was she doing? He was one of her best friends.

“I wish that were true,” she thought she heard him say as the door of her bedroom closed.

When One Burns One's Bridges, What a Very Nice Fire It Makes

Issa
glanced at her cell phone when it beeped in the middle of AP English Monday morning. A new text message. She reached to hit the read button.

“Miss Mazumder, is there a problem?” Professor Kidlinger frowned as she tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “Would you like to share with us what is so fascinating on your phone?”

Issa's first instinct was to sink into her chair. She couldn't believe she was now one of “them.” Annoying people who checked voice mails or text messages in the middle of class. So tacky. So pretentious. Stuff Cat's crowd usually did.

A Belle never gets flustered,
a little voice in her head that sounded a lot like Serena whispered.

True. Her social life was
much
more important than
Much Ado About Nothing
or whatever they were discussing in class.

Issa summoned her best Belle voice. “No, Professor. Please carry on.”

Professor Kidlinger sighed. “May I see you after class?”

Issa shrugged, ignoring the curious glances of the other students. Yeah, so she wasn't being her usual goody-two-shoes self. So she would get in trouble. So what? There were sacrifices to having it all.

As the bell rang dismissing class, Issa reached for her phone again. The message might be from Serena…or better yet, Rake. He hadn't called since their date on Saturday night and Issa was anxious for him to reassure her he wasn't furious for the fiasco she'd caused. Her memory was hazy, but she guessed she had humiliated him by calling Ishaan to pick her up and take her home.

Then there was the bit about her confessing her love to Ishaan and kissing him.

Thankfully Ishaan hadn't mentioned it when he'd called the next morning to make sure she was feeling okay. Maybe it hadn't happened. Maybe it had been all in her head. Maybe. What the hell had she been thinking? He was her friend, nothing more. And he hated her at the moment.

The text message beeped again and Issa hit
READ
.

It was not from Rake.

 

Iz:

Come see me on your break.

—Mom. Remember me? The person who brought you into this world and can take you out.

 

Oh, goody. What now? Did Alisha know about the drunken debacle?

For the past week, Alisha had been trying to make up and act like nothing had changed, but Issa had no desire to resume friendship with the shell that was her mother.

“Miss Mazumder?”

Issa looked up. The bell had rung, the classroom had emptied and she hadn't even noticed.

Uh-oh. Her chance to escape the surefire lecture had passed. Professor Kidlinger took a seat in the desk in front of her and looked like she was waiting for Issa to say something.

“Is something bothering you, Issa? You've been acting very strange this whole month.”

“How so?” Issa replaced her phone, her heard pounding. The old Issa would have been trembling and shaking and apologizing. The new Issa would have none of that. At least not on the outside.

“Well, first of all, your less-than-average grade on last week's quiz. Then you failed to turn in the extra-credit assignment I asked you to do.”

“Yeah, I was busy with school stuff. Sorry.” Issa could barely look the professor in the eye. Did shopping and dating count as “school stuff”?

“I see. So, everything is okay at home?”

Oh, yeah, things were great. Her smart, handsome, virtuous father was within reach and her mother couldn't disentangle herself from the arms of a Cuban money launderer. How could things get any better?

“Yeah, sure. Things are fine.”

“I understand your mother is getting married next month?”

Yeah…not if I have anything to say about it. “I guess so.”

“That must be stressful. Your new stepfamily and all? Quite the transition, right?” Professor Kidlinger leaned back in the chair and seemed to be observing Issa's body language.

Issa self-consciously crossed her arms, covering her new pink sapphire bracelet.

“It's okay. Diego's an all right guy.” Issa stared anywhere but at her teacher's face. She wasn't lying. Diego was an all right guy. And he would make some desperate housewife who could deal with spoiled brats like Cat very happy one day. Vivacious, full-of-life Alisha needed to be with someone who was a free spirit. Like Roy Bradley.

“I hate to see this happen, Issa.”

“Mom getting married?”

Professor Kidlinger laughed. “No. I meant your dropping grades. You've maintained a 4.0 GPA the past two years. You're in danger of losing your A in this class. Have you given up on the idea of an Ivy League university? No more West Coast for you?”

Issa tried to maintain her calm exterior, but the panic must have shown on her face. Lose her straight A track record? Not possible! Her high grades were the key to getting into Stanford and on the road to her journalism degree.

“Losing my A?”

“Right now you have a B in here. And if you miss another assignment, it might become a C.”

A C! She had never in her life gotten less than an A-minus. This was just not happening. Everything she'd worked for!

“I'll do better. Let me make up the quiz. Please.” Issa didn't even try to hide her desperation. Getting her family back together was one thing. Throwing her life away was entirely different.

“I gave you the opportunity to do the extra-credit assignment,” Professor Kidlinger reminded her.

“Give me an extension. I just got so distracted by…” Issa was almost in tears. By what? Rake? Cat? The new Isabelle? “I can't lose an A in English. This is going to be my major!”

“Issa—” Professor Kidlinger sighed. “You were my top student up until a month ago and you've always done your work well. Because you're going through these life changes, I'll give you another day to turn in the assignment. Can you have it done by tomorrow morning?”

Issa nodded. If she had to camp out in her room till the paper was done, she would get it written. “Tomorrow morning. Thank you, Professor.”

Professor Kidlinger watched as Issa picked up her Coach purse and stuffed her PDA/camera phone into the pocket of her quilted white blazer. “Please don't let the situation around you change who you are.”

Issa's head jerked. Why did she get the feeling the professor wasn't talking about Diego and Alisha so much as she was talking about the new Isabelle?

“I won't,” Issa muttered.

As she shuffled through the hallway to her next class, Issa made a mental list of things she had to do. “Isabelle” was going to have to go into hibernation for a day or two so Issa could swoop in and clean up the academic mess. She knew she was behind in her World Politics reading and her calculus assignments too. Looked like she was going to have to cancel her plans to hit the Louis Vuitton store with Megan and Serena that afternoon.

“Hey, baby,” Issa heard a familiar voice call out.

She glanced up and saw Rake loitering in the jock hallway with a few of the soccer players. All of their eyes were on Issa and she forced her most flirtatious smile and lowered her eyes. One of the other players clapped Rake on the shoulder as he sauntered toward her.

“We're going out tonight, right? I hated the way the other night ended. I'm really sorry for what happened.” He encircled her in his arms and pressed his lips against hers, his tongue gently grazing hers. His ever-present scent of aloe and eucalyptus permeated her senses and instantly, Issa forgot her never-ending to-do list. So he didn't hate her for Saturday night. In fact, he was sorry. He understood she wasn't ready to take that step. How could she have doubted him for an instant?

He was so perfect. Why did she have to call Ishaan and ruin the evening? She could have handled him.

“Definitely.” She realized she was probably grinning like a fool, but she didn't care.

“Why don't I pick you up at seven?”

Issa hesitated. She still hadn't told Alisha about Rake and she wasn't sure if she was ready to do so yet. She would meet him wherever he wanted to go.

“Actually, why don't I just—”

Rake's eyes shifted into the distance. Issa glanced back to see what he was looking at.

Alisha and Professor Kidlinger were standing not even ten feet away. They had overheard this whole little exchange. Neither looked pleased.

Crap.

There was no avoiding this conversation now. Issa quickly disentangled herself from Rake. “I'll find you later, okay?”

Rake looked more than relieved to leave the teachers behind as he hurried back to his friends.

Professor Kidlinger whispered something to Alisha and was gone by the time Issa approached her mother.

“You were supposed to meet me on your break, not be necking with your boyfriend,” Alisha said shortly before turning on her heel, and marched toward the art room.

Issa tagged along, knowing she was in deep trouble if Professor Kidlinger had told Alisha about Issa's grade situation. Not to mention in deep trouble over Rake's little “finish what we started” remark.

Alisha closed the door behind them and took a seat on one of the counters. “Talk.”

Issa looked around the room for a way out. She could vault from the window, but would probably break her knees in the process. There was no way she could wear a Prada gown and attend the Snow Ball with broken knees.

“Are you listening? Talk. Now. How long have you been seeing this boy?” Alisha's voice hinted that she was not above playing the mom card in about three seconds.

“Rake and I have been going out for a week or two,” Issa said.

“Why don't I know about it?”

“I was going to tell you.”

“When?”

“Hmm, how about as much time as it took for you to tell me you were marrying a total stranger!”

“You watch how you speak to me.”

Alisha's sharp tone shut Issa up. Her mother was not playin'.

“Why did I need to find out from another teacher? About you and Rake?” Alisha moved easels from the corner into the center of the room to prepare for her next class. “Apparently the whole school knows about it. Apparently, you both went up to Lovers' Pointe on Saturday night and quite a few things happened.”

Issa felt herself reddening. How did word get around? She didn't say anything. Rake wouldn't say anything. Ishaan? Could he have spread the word? She picked at a drop of dried paint on a chipped table.

“Nothing happened. It's just a rumor,” she muttered.

“And when were you going to tell me about your C on that English quiz?”

“I'll fix it.” Issa was starting to grow angry. “I've never needed your help in school before and I don't need it now!”

“You lied to Diego, Cat and me. You said you got a perfect score. Was that just to annoy Cat, or were you doing it for a new outfit?” Alisha grabbed a handful of paintbrushes and distributed them around the room. “Tell me.”

Issa had no answer that wouldn't get her grounded.

“Where did this superficial Issa come from? Making Cat look bad in front of her father? Caring about nothing more than the brand of shoes on your feet?”

Issa felt the heat traveling up to her ears and hairline. “Me, superficial? You're the one that makes this crazy-ass decision to marry some random rich guy and expect me to just go along with it!”

“Do not raise your voice at me!”

What did Alisha want? She didn't want the truth and she didn't want Issa lying to her. There was no winning here. She wasn't the mother Issa considered to be her best friend anymore, that much was even more clear.

“You don't even sound like my mama anymore. I do not want to talk to you. Can I go now?” Despite her resolve, Issa felt tears popping into her eyes. She
hated
fighting with Alisha. Despite her new gang of friends and her popularity, she missed having someone to tell every detail of her day to.

“Issa, I am trying my best here to understand what you're going through, but you shutting me out is not helping. And these new friends of yours and this new boyfriend? I don't have a good feeling about this.”

Issa crossed her arms. “And I don't have a good feeling about Diego. But do you listen to me?”

“We're discussing you right this instant.”

“What, what do you want to discuss? You can do whatever the hell you want and you want to police my friends? There's nothing wrong with them!”

Issa's eyes fell on the clock. She was supposed to meet the Belles to discuss her Snow Queen–winning strategy. But Alisha didn't look like she was going to let her go anytime soon.