The Rearranged Life (9 page)

Yours too?! I thought it was just on my end,
I replied.

-
Nope. She hasn’t stopped mentioning our family history for the last six hours.

Apparently, we were best buddies when we were babies.

-No one says we still can’t be. We can make up for lost time,
he replied almost instantly.

You ARE from Michigan… I don’t know if I want to give in to this rivalry.

-I like my chances.

His answer prompted some heart fluttering. Maybe love could grow. Except deep down, I want to fall in love after a serendipitous meeting with a soulmate, unbound by history between our families… something new, uncharted, and ours to guide in the direction we want it to go.

That brings me to James. Nothing can happen. I’m Indian, I have other people to consider in making my decisions, and I’ve never stepped a toe out of line. I also can’t explain why monarch butterflies take flight in my belly when I see him. It hasn’t escaped my attention that I’ve worn my favorite dresses all week, or that I’ve been putting on an extra coat of my favorite MAC lip gloss before I walk through the doors. It also hasn’t passed my notice that James arrives earlier and earlier each day. He walks in at 8:55 on Monday. 8:50 on Wednesday. This morning, we meet in the hallway. James slides onto the bench next to me before the previous class even leaves the classroom.

“I think he likes you,” Sophia says seriously when I mention that James suggested Sophia, Luca, and the two of us should hang out soon.

“That’s gleaning a lot from a couple of conversations.”

“He asked you out for coffee, didn’t he?”

“As friends. He could just be checking on me. He seems like the type to do that.”

“Doubtful. Something tells me he likes you.” Sophia is stubborn. “Do you like him?”

“I barely know him.” With equal stubbornness, I ignore the monarchs in my belly.

“What does that have to do with anything?” She gives me a coquettish glance. “Okay, well, then can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah?”

“Just don’t overanalyze this. Go with your gut.” She says this firmly, a command rather than a request.

The thing is, I wasn’t raised to ‘go with my gut,’ or think about myself. I even made the decision to go to college closer to home because I thought being able to go home for Diwali or for family celebrations would be beneficial for everyone. My parents, who always warned me ahead of time what festivals were coming, could still feel like a family.

Whether I want to or not, I always do what is necessary for the greater good. But as James crosses my mind again, I wonder if I should go with what’s good for me for a change.

Luca and Sophia meet up three times this week. They’ve hit the one-month mark, an occasion Sophia insists they commemorate with a dinner out, and Luca indulges her. When she’s with him, another side of her comes out. It’s a reminder she didn’t grow up with a father to indulge her every whim, to sit with her and have a pretend tea party, or to warn her dates to bring her home by nine.

I can still remember six months after Sophia and I had met and become best friends, the way she told me her dad had died in a drunk driving accident… where he was the drunk driver. Her mother, Sarah, had come into preschool, where Sophia was busy coloring butterflies, and broke the bad news. It wasn’t until much, much later that Sophia learned the truth: her father was a secret alcoholic. No one had even had a clue until the day he died.

She hasn’t trusted many people since. Sure, she’s had her share of breakups, but she’s never allowed herself to fall deeply enough for someone to trust them to catch her.

“You make your own luck. There is no fairy tale,” she’d said then, matter-of-factly.

After their celebratory Thai dinner date, she pulls on Luca’s arm and allows herself to be childish, whining about how she wants chocolate cake for dessert, or playfully telling him to skip his review session to spend the night. Now, the cracks burst in the façade of her former self. They’ve progressed from the awkward giddiness to not minding if he catches her flossing her teeth or she sees him wearing the same shirt twice in a row. Normally, I’d imagine that takes months, but they’ve jet-setted from casual dating to bonafide ‘it’ couple before I can blink my eyes, spending every weekend together. This time, it’s different. Sophia isn’t holding back. Whether I can do the same is a whole different story.

“Nithya?” A soft knock on my door Friday night, five days after the wedding, has me looking up from my computer.

“Do you want to go out tonight?” she asks, hopefully.

“Oh… What did you have in mind?”

“Luca and James are having a party at their apartment. They invited us.”

“Us? Or you with me tagging along?” I look at her suspiciously. It wouldn’t be beyond her to orchestrate a setup, but she giggles and raises her hands in surrender. She loves the idea of the two of us, best friends forever, dating a sexy set of roommates.

“I swear, Luca said both of our names and told me to tell you to come!” Her blue eyes look like lightning in a bottle, both daring and pleading with me.

Just to prove I’m not overanalyzing or even thinking of James, I say yes.

The apartment is crammed, and the music thumps against my eardrums. The wall where I collapsed and cried is right in front of me. The counter where James sat when I stumbled into the living room is lined with oblivious strangers. It’s like a secret–it puts me at ease that no one knows any of the history here, and the world can keep turning… but it’s a little isolating, too; a feeling I didn’t expect.

James leans against the wall, farther down the hallway near his room, and chats up a beautiful brunette. His silver watch gleams in the dim light as he gesticulates, beer in hand. When he laughs, he tilts his head back. He’s playful; he makes faces and animatedly widens his eyes. The girl he’s with crosses and uncrosses her long legs as she stands next to him, touching his arm when she finds his jokes funny. The intimacy hurts my heart… like I’m an outsider to something I so desperately want to be a part of. I can’t even explain why James tugs at my heartstrings–I hardly know him. Being saved by him, sharing a few laughs… that doesn’t a love make. It doesn’t amount to anything. But here I am, captivated. He’s with a girl, probably someone he’s seeing, and I didn’t know. It reminds me of how far out of his circle I am. And how silly it is to wish I wasn’t.

I pour my own drink this time, a Sprite, making sure the two-liter bottle isn’t opened before I tip some into my glass.
See, I learn quickly
. I give myself a wry grin.

“Nithya, it’s about time you came and hung out with us!” Luca is a welcome distraction from James and his likely girlfriend. Sophia is wrapped in his arms.

“I figured it was time to come out of hibernation!”

He chortles, and I instantly fall for him a little bit–in a strictly platonic, dating-my-best-friend kind of way.

“Oh em gee, I love this song!” Sophia cuts off the pleasantries, and Luca rolls his eyes.

The beat has changed from a popular rock song to a danceable R&B tune. She takes hold of my hand and pulls Luca along. The two of them move smoothly, perfectly in time with the music and with each other. Luca’s a fluid dancer. Sophia spins me around, goofy with energy. It’s us in our own world. The song blends into one screaming about shots, and about twenty people crowd the area throwing their arms and drinks up in the air. Sophia and Luca are separated from me, and the ten feet between us might as well be ten miles. I try to wade through the crowd, but people bump and shove me every which way.

Hands are on my waist. The déjà vu hits me like a brick. I don’t want to be touched by a stranger, and I stop moving, pushing the arms away instinctively.

“Hey, you okay?” A confused looking boy stands behind me, puzzled.

“Uh, yeah, not feeling good.” I spot the door and rush toward it. I need air.

“Nithya?” Sophia asks as I blast by her.

I throw open the door and jog down the hall, ignoring that I’m in heels and a broken ankle is a real possibility. Snippets of music from different apartments float along, and bursts of chatter sound from the doors as I pass.

The fresh air is like a blanket. I bend down, my hands on my knees, gasping for breath. I manage to walk to the nearest half-wall, where the streetlights glow near the dorms across the street. My hands are clammy, and my heart patters against my chest like someone rapping on a door.
You’re okay
, I tell myself over and over.
Stop freaking out.

“You okay?” It’s James. His voice echoes around the parking deck.

“I’m fine… no. I don’t know. Panic or something.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He leans near me, elbows propped on the wall.

“What are you even doing here?” The last thing I want is his pity. Again.

“I just saw your escape act. I told Sophia I’d check on you.”

“Are you always watching out for a crisis?” I snap. The unexpected anxiety makes me cranky. I’m equally annoyed James has seen me lose my cool three times now and has shown up each time to save the day. I don’t need that. I can save myself. As soon as I collect my thoughts.

“No, Nithya, of course not. I wanted to come say hi and you looked freaked and left. I just figured I’d make sure you were okay.”

“Won’t your girlfriend be annoyed by that?” I blurt out. My inhibitions have taken a dive off this parking deck along with any sanity I have.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“That girl you were talking to in there.”

“Now who’s watching?” He smirks, his characteristic confidence back in a flash.

“That’s just… well. I just meant… No,” I stumble. “Whatever.”

“Well, if you want to talk, I’m here.” He turns and walks back toward the stairwell.

“Why did you save me that night?”

I need to know. It’s the start of everything. James would have meant nothing. He would be the guy who helped with my homework. I would have thanked him before we both moved on with our lives, unaffected like a beat on a regular sinus rhythm. Then he intervened, and didn’t let something horrible shatter my world, and now I’m bound to him. I have to know why.

He stops, and his back stiffens. I don’t break his gaze when he turns around and considers his answer.

“Two years ago, my brother and I visited my cousin at Georgia Tech. We went to a party, and the same thing happened to her. We didn’t realize she was gone…”

His confession stuns me into silence. He doesn’t need to say the words–I know what he’s implying. She wasn’t as lucky as I was.

“I’m sorry,” I say, softly. He gives me a tight-lipped smile in return. “And I’m sorry I yelled at you… my head’s just been all over the place lately.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he repeats, returning to my side and mirroring my pose.

Except now, I am not inexplicably angry.

“I just didn’t expect to feel so much.” There is so much truth in those words. I never expected these nerve-sparking thoughts of James or a magnitude of emotions around him.

As James quietly says, “I know how you feel.”

I want to yell,
you have no idea
. The catch with James is that I associate him with chaos. I met him on the only day of my life I’d forgotten an assignment. I was drugged and he saved me. Now, I find myself distracted by the smell of his cologne when I used to pay attention. When I meet a guy like Nishanth, who is perfect for me on paper, James still manages to stay on my mind.

It’s not his fault. He can’t help that he’s charming and sweet. And I can’t help that every time he’s around, the giddy schoolgirl in me comes out. And she
shouldn’t
. Even if he did like me, my family wouldn’t condone our dating.
He is bad news.

My heart hammers against my chest like it’s going to explode, a bundled knot of conflicting emotions. Sophia’s voice in my head commands me not to think too much, to see where this goes and stop
stopping
just to consider what I’m doing. We stand in silence, the air heavy with unspoken words and unasked questions. I want to know everything about him. And that’s what scares me because if I can forget the instinct to stop first and think, I will surge forward and make a gigantic fool of myself. I’m twenty-one, never had a boyfriend, supposed to have an arranged marriage, and he’s witnessed spectacular moments of disarray in my life. Who’d want to stick around for any of that?

“You know, if you keep having meltdowns in my apartment, I’m going to start thinking it’s me.” He bobs his head with mock gravity, and I jump back to the present, like I always do when he says something so spot-on in such a laidback way.

The distraction lets my heartbeat slow down so I can hold a conversation like a normal human being.

“Maybe it is,” I murmur. “So, how was your cousin?”

“She pressed charges. The guy went to jail. Tristan punched him so hard when we found her, he broke the dude’s jaw, so he got what was coming.” He’s serious now. I didn’t mean to make him think about it further, so I ask if Tristan is his younger brother.

“How’d you know?”

“Your tone. Pride. It’s how I talk about my sister.”

“Is she as much trouble as you are?”

“I’m not trouble!” I protest, and he raises an eyebrow. “Okay, well… yeah.”

His delighted laugh ricochets off the empty cars. “That’s okay, I can handle a little intensity.”

Are we flirting? Sophia would say yes. I can see her in my mind’s eye with a clipboard standing behind us. Eye contact?
Check.
Sneaking glances?
Check.
Coy smiles?
Check
. A little mystery? Wanting to know more? Electric feeling in the twelve inches of space between our resting arms?
Check. Check. Check.

“I guess that explains why you sit next to the crazy girl every chem class.”

“That, among other things.”

I look at him questioningly.
It can’t be.
I have to be wishful thinking right now. His harmless, “Now who’s watching?” resonates again. Has he been as riveted as I have? I missed the cues, my gut tells me. He observes the confused look on my face.