From Twinkle, with Love
Page 28
“My parents would call that a travesty,” Sahil said, and I frowned at him questioningly. “Oh, they’re big believers in higher education. Both of them teach anthropology at UCCS. They sort of finance the education of one student every year. It’s their mission in life to make higher ed accessible to everyone.”
“That’s so cool,” I said. And crazy that they could do that. My parents couldn’t even afford to put one kid through college.
“Cool, but also a little bit annoying. They want both Neil and me to go into academia. Neil’s one hundred percent on board, but I want to be a film critic, which my dad thinks is just an excuse for me to sit around and watch movies and get paid for it. I mean, he’s not wrong.” We laughed. “But I don’t get why that makes it a less valid profession than his. Anyway, what do your parents do?”
“Um, my dad’s an aide at a center for runaway youth. And my mom’s a substitute teacher. Dadi doesn’t work.”
Sahil didn’t ask why I mentioned my dadi when he asked about parents, which was cool. He got the whole Indian extended-family thing. It was another example of how Sahil saw me in ways other people didn’t.
We began our ascent again, and my stomach dipped uncomfortably. I must’ve made a face because Sahil moved infinitesimally closer to me, the movement seeming completely subconscious. I, on the other hand, was hyperaware that our thighs were just a breath away from each other. My fists balled in my lap.
“And do they support your filmmaking?” he asked, in a way that told me he was trying to take my mind off the fact that we were, once again, floating in the sky in a creaky little metal cage.
But I played along. It helped. “Dadi does. My parents don’t exactly support it, but they don’t not support it either, if that makes sense.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “It does. It sucks when parents aren’t fully engaged in your stuff, even if it’s so much better than hovering parents.”
I looked up at him again. He was so right. I had cousins in California and Oregon whose parents were basically a subspecies of helicopter, they hovered so much. And that would be super irritating. But having parents who couldn’t care less about what you were up to had its own levels of associated suckage. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”
“You should come to breakfast at my place sometime,” he said suddenly.
I glanced at his flushed face and saw this was a big deal to him. Sahil wasn’t the type of guy to extend frivolous invitations. “Your parents wouldn’t mind?”
“Nah. They’re always telling me to broaden my friendship horizons beyond the same two I’ve had since second grade. Besides, my mom is impressed that you want to be a film director in the … how did she put it? Oh, right, the systematic racial and patriarchal system that has been curated to exclude women and especially women of color.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” He smiled fondly. “Mom gets a little bent out of shape about the patriarchy. But I promise they’re fun. And my dad makes the best peanut butter chocolate chip pancakes. Hands down.”
“No kidding?” To be honest, I was curious about Sahil and Neil’s parents. What must they be like to have raised two crushworthy boys? And okay. I was also into the idea of accidentally-on-purpose running into Neil. Maybe we could just talk about all the secret admirer stuff right there and things would finally be clearer. “All right. You’ve convinced me. Just let me know when.”
He grinned, looking relieved. “Awesome.”
The Ferris wheel stopped spinning and I realized we were at the bottom. We’d be getting off in a few short seconds. I felt a lurch of disappointment that my time with Sahil was almost over.
“Wanna go on another ride?” he asked.
I desperately wanted to. But another ride would turn into another one and then this would turn into a flat-out date. And I couldn’t do that to Sahil or N. I just couldn’t. I had to use the unspent money Dadi had given me for rides and stuff on a cab ride home. There were a bunch at the gate. “I … shouldn’t.”
His disappointed face matched mine. Only for a heartbeat.
Because then I blurted out, “Do you want to get some cotton candy?” Twinkle, why? Why couldn’t you just let Sahil go?
His face brightened, like someone had turned up the wattage. “Sure.”
We walked to the cotton candy stall slowly, people swarming around us like busy flies. Our arms kept brushing together, and I scooted in half a millimeter closer. It was chilly and he was warm, okay?
Sahil ordered two from the cotton candy vendor.
“Hey,” I said as I paid for the cotton candies with the money Dadi had given me. Sahil made a motion for his wallet, but I threatened him with bodily harm and he laughed and surrendered. “I forgot to tell you, but Victoria Lyons invited me to Hannah’s birthday party next weekend.”
We began to walk again. “For real?” he said.
“I know. I was surprised too. But I think I’ve earned street cred with her because of this whole director shtick.” I shrugged. “Anyway, I wanted to know if you’d come with me.” When he seemed to get really happy, I hastily added, “Because I want to get that behind-the-scenes footage we were talking about.”
“Oh, right,” Sahil said, his mood dampening noticeably as we made our way through the crowd and the noise.
I took a big bite of cotton candy. “It’s in Aspen at Victoria’s parents’ cabin, so it’s a bit of a drive.”
Sahil whistled. “And this is Hannah’s birthday party? But Victoria invited you?”
He was starting to remind me of Maddie. Was it just so obvious to everyone else that I didn’t belong with them? I felt a little silly in my shiny new dress and my perfectly done hair all of a sudden. Trying to ignore the sting of hurt, I said, “I know. It’s so weird that they’d want me to go.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said, grabbing my hand to get my attention. “I just mean … Hannah’s never been very nice to you. Are you sure she’s gonna be okay with it?”
I shrugged. “Victoria told me not to worry about it, so I’m not worried about it. I’ll just bring her a fabulous present or something.”
“Hmm. Sure, I’ll go. And I’ll drive you if you want.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.” I took my hand away. “Sahil …”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think we should hold hands. I don’t want to confuse things. …”
“Is this still about keeping things professional?” he asked quietly. “Because I get the feeling that there might be something else. Or someone else.”
“There is the movie, but you’re right. There’s some other stuff I have to figure out too,” I admitted, swallowing and keeping my eyes forward. My palms were sweating.
“But … you like me?”
I took a deep breath. “I do. I like you.”
Sahil smiled. “That’s good enough for me for now. And this stuff you need to figure out?”
“Yeah?”
“Will kissing help or …?”
I laughed and pushed him on the arm. “Stop it.”
He walked me to the gate. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, stepping closer. I tried not to notice the way his eyes positively glowed as he looked at me. I was sure mine had a matching glow.
“Yes.”
He tucked a curl behind my ear. It was like we couldn’t stop finding excuses to touch each other. I should stop him, but I didn’t want to. N and I didn’t meet up. And Sahil was here. Sahil was always showing up for me. I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. “Bye.”
“Bye, Twinkle.”
I smiled and turned around to walk outside to a waiting cab. And all the way there, I felt Sahil watching me go.
Love,
Twinkle
Thirteen
Saturday, June 13
My room
Dear Nora Ephron, I took a shower, changed into comfy pj’s, and was sitting here doodling when my computer dinged. E-mails below.
“That’s so cool,” I said. And crazy that they could do that. My parents couldn’t even afford to put one kid through college.
“Cool, but also a little bit annoying. They want both Neil and me to go into academia. Neil’s one hundred percent on board, but I want to be a film critic, which my dad thinks is just an excuse for me to sit around and watch movies and get paid for it. I mean, he’s not wrong.” We laughed. “But I don’t get why that makes it a less valid profession than his. Anyway, what do your parents do?”
“Um, my dad’s an aide at a center for runaway youth. And my mom’s a substitute teacher. Dadi doesn’t work.”
Sahil didn’t ask why I mentioned my dadi when he asked about parents, which was cool. He got the whole Indian extended-family thing. It was another example of how Sahil saw me in ways other people didn’t.
We began our ascent again, and my stomach dipped uncomfortably. I must’ve made a face because Sahil moved infinitesimally closer to me, the movement seeming completely subconscious. I, on the other hand, was hyperaware that our thighs were just a breath away from each other. My fists balled in my lap.
“And do they support your filmmaking?” he asked, in a way that told me he was trying to take my mind off the fact that we were, once again, floating in the sky in a creaky little metal cage.
But I played along. It helped. “Dadi does. My parents don’t exactly support it, but they don’t not support it either, if that makes sense.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “It does. It sucks when parents aren’t fully engaged in your stuff, even if it’s so much better than hovering parents.”
I looked up at him again. He was so right. I had cousins in California and Oregon whose parents were basically a subspecies of helicopter, they hovered so much. And that would be super irritating. But having parents who couldn’t care less about what you were up to had its own levels of associated suckage. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”
“You should come to breakfast at my place sometime,” he said suddenly.
I glanced at his flushed face and saw this was a big deal to him. Sahil wasn’t the type of guy to extend frivolous invitations. “Your parents wouldn’t mind?”
“Nah. They’re always telling me to broaden my friendship horizons beyond the same two I’ve had since second grade. Besides, my mom is impressed that you want to be a film director in the … how did she put it? Oh, right, the systematic racial and patriarchal system that has been curated to exclude women and especially women of color.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” He smiled fondly. “Mom gets a little bent out of shape about the patriarchy. But I promise they’re fun. And my dad makes the best peanut butter chocolate chip pancakes. Hands down.”
“No kidding?” To be honest, I was curious about Sahil and Neil’s parents. What must they be like to have raised two crushworthy boys? And okay. I was also into the idea of accidentally-on-purpose running into Neil. Maybe we could just talk about all the secret admirer stuff right there and things would finally be clearer. “All right. You’ve convinced me. Just let me know when.”
He grinned, looking relieved. “Awesome.”
The Ferris wheel stopped spinning and I realized we were at the bottom. We’d be getting off in a few short seconds. I felt a lurch of disappointment that my time with Sahil was almost over.
“Wanna go on another ride?” he asked.
I desperately wanted to. But another ride would turn into another one and then this would turn into a flat-out date. And I couldn’t do that to Sahil or N. I just couldn’t. I had to use the unspent money Dadi had given me for rides and stuff on a cab ride home. There were a bunch at the gate. “I … shouldn’t.”
His disappointed face matched mine. Only for a heartbeat.
Because then I blurted out, “Do you want to get some cotton candy?” Twinkle, why? Why couldn’t you just let Sahil go?
His face brightened, like someone had turned up the wattage. “Sure.”
We walked to the cotton candy stall slowly, people swarming around us like busy flies. Our arms kept brushing together, and I scooted in half a millimeter closer. It was chilly and he was warm, okay?
Sahil ordered two from the cotton candy vendor.
“Hey,” I said as I paid for the cotton candies with the money Dadi had given me. Sahil made a motion for his wallet, but I threatened him with bodily harm and he laughed and surrendered. “I forgot to tell you, but Victoria Lyons invited me to Hannah’s birthday party next weekend.”
We began to walk again. “For real?” he said.
“I know. I was surprised too. But I think I’ve earned street cred with her because of this whole director shtick.” I shrugged. “Anyway, I wanted to know if you’d come with me.” When he seemed to get really happy, I hastily added, “Because I want to get that behind-the-scenes footage we were talking about.”
“Oh, right,” Sahil said, his mood dampening noticeably as we made our way through the crowd and the noise.
I took a big bite of cotton candy. “It’s in Aspen at Victoria’s parents’ cabin, so it’s a bit of a drive.”
Sahil whistled. “And this is Hannah’s birthday party? But Victoria invited you?”
He was starting to remind me of Maddie. Was it just so obvious to everyone else that I didn’t belong with them? I felt a little silly in my shiny new dress and my perfectly done hair all of a sudden. Trying to ignore the sting of hurt, I said, “I know. It’s so weird that they’d want me to go.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said, grabbing my hand to get my attention. “I just mean … Hannah’s never been very nice to you. Are you sure she’s gonna be okay with it?”
I shrugged. “Victoria told me not to worry about it, so I’m not worried about it. I’ll just bring her a fabulous present or something.”
“Hmm. Sure, I’ll go. And I’ll drive you if you want.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.” I took my hand away. “Sahil …”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think we should hold hands. I don’t want to confuse things. …”
“Is this still about keeping things professional?” he asked quietly. “Because I get the feeling that there might be something else. Or someone else.”
“There is the movie, but you’re right. There’s some other stuff I have to figure out too,” I admitted, swallowing and keeping my eyes forward. My palms were sweating.
“But … you like me?”
I took a deep breath. “I do. I like you.”
Sahil smiled. “That’s good enough for me for now. And this stuff you need to figure out?”
“Yeah?”
“Will kissing help or …?”
I laughed and pushed him on the arm. “Stop it.”
He walked me to the gate. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, stepping closer. I tried not to notice the way his eyes positively glowed as he looked at me. I was sure mine had a matching glow.
“Yes.”
He tucked a curl behind my ear. It was like we couldn’t stop finding excuses to touch each other. I should stop him, but I didn’t want to. N and I didn’t meet up. And Sahil was here. Sahil was always showing up for me. I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. “Bye.”
“Bye, Twinkle.”
I smiled and turned around to walk outside to a waiting cab. And all the way there, I felt Sahil watching me go.
Love,
Twinkle
Thirteen
Saturday, June 13
My room
Dear Nora Ephron, I took a shower, changed into comfy pj’s, and was sitting here doodling when my computer dinged. E-mails below.
