The Rearranged Life (28 page)

“Yes,” I say softly, taking a breath to steady my nerves. “He’s from a great family. He’s wealthy. He’s so smart, I mean, you wouldn’t believe how smart he is, Nanna.” I don’t know why I’m directing my comments at him, maybe because he’s more likely to listen.

“Well, that won’t do,” Amma says in Telugu. “You’ll just have to break up with him.”

“But I don’t want–” I start, already on a roll since we’ve gotten this far.

“After all, my daughter wouldn’t do this. Not my respectful daughter,” Amma finishes, almost talking to herself.

I fall silent.

The rest of the weekend passes as if my parents never heard me tell them I was dating someone. Some relief is visible in the denial. Maybe it won’t be a big deal. Then again, when the Titanic hit an iceberg, no one thought anything was wrong. Once again, I play the waiting game, reading every expression on my parents’ faces when they ask me to set the table or my father reminds me to check what time the bus is leaving.
Are you really asking me when I’ll leave you guys alone?
I want to ask. It’s irrational. They haven’t acted out of sorts. Perhaps the stages of grief are theory, not law.

James, I told my parents.
I text him after Amma asks me if I want chai or soda and I convince myself she’s covertly asking whether I choose them or James through my choice of beverage. I’m certain I’m going bananas.

-
Are you okay?

They’re so calm,
I type.

Then I add,
Or maybe they’re actually trying to drive me crazy by making me prepare for an argument, and then using another strategy to fight me. Maybe this is their plan; to deny I’m dating you and it’s all in my mind.

And finally,
Jesus, what if this is all a mind game?

-Easy with the war strategizing, Ulysses. Maybe they’re just cool with it.

But they’ve NEVER been cool with things like this.

-Well, you’re their daughter. It’s different with you.

I hope you’re right,
I tell him.

ames and I are cooking in the kitchen, making tortellini
and vegetable-laden pasta sauce, while another pot of
palak paneer
sits simmering on the stove, the savory smells tickling my taste buds. His apartment is full of the rich aromas of spices, herbs, and cheeses. I reach for the fridge door to get some more cream for the gravy, and James unexpectedly grabs my hand as I turn away, pulling me toward him.

The unsuspecting smile on my face turns into an urgent need for him as he brings his lips to mine so quickly, I’m taken by surprise.

“What was that for?” I ask, breathlessly.

“I just want you,” he says, his voice husky and his eyes hungrily searching my face.

I want him too. A split second ensues where my shallow breaths fill the inch between our lips.

We crash together like atoms colliding in empty space. His hand rests on the side of my face, the other, at the small of my back, pulls me against his muscled length. My arms, wrapped around his neck, tug him closer as his tongue parts my lips. He takes a step and pushes me against the fridge, barely breaking the kiss as I wrap my leg around his waist.

In one smooth move, he sweeps me off my feet, letting me straddle him as he lifts me onto the counter next to the fridge. The loose button-down I wear hangs off me as I sit above him, reaching for him as he stands between my legs. His long fingers follow a line up my spine, giving me shivers. His hands go to the top button of my shirt, and he breaks our kiss momentarily to ask permission with his eyes, which he has in an instant as I come back in to kiss him again, putting my arms on his shoulders as he unbuttons my shirt, too slowly. Every time his fingertips hit my skin, first between my collarbones, then between my breasts, then near my bellybutton, they leave a trail of fire. My shirt is open, and I am unconcerned that this is my first time doing any of this. It feels perfect.

James kisses me under my jaw, in the soft spot beneath my ear, biting my earlobe softly as he places kisses down my shoulder, then moves my bra strap to keep going. I can’t breathe as he pulls me off the counter and toward him again. I slide my shirt off and drop it next to him, huffing with need as I reach for his shirttails. His eyes widen only slightly as I yank them up before letting me pull the top up and over his head.

We sink to the floor, ferociously kissing. The tiles feel cool against my back as he climbs on top of me. Moving against him, I can feel him turned on and instead of scaring me, this only gets me more excited.

Feeling brave, I take ahold of his hand and look him in the eye as I lead it to the top of my jeans. He kisses my neck as he slides his fingers underneath the denim, making my heart pound faster and faster until he reaches what he’s looking for. The tingles shoot through my toes as his hand slides against me until I’m on the brink.

I arch my back, groaning, and throw back my head involuntarily.

My parents stand at the door, horrified.

“Nithya? What are you doing?” Their voices sound like they are far away and too close all at once as they implore me to stop and think about breaking every rule in my mad quest for personal gratification.

Someone shoves my shoulder.

“Nithya, what are you doing?” Nanna’s face comes into focus in front of me.

“I’m sorry.” I rub the sleep out of my eyes and with it, the vision of their open mouths frozen in my mind.

“It’s okay, but you have to wake up! You’re going to be late for your bus. Let’s go,” Nanna tells me gently.

I roll out of bed, still struggling to regain my senses. I’ve never been a dream analyzer, but I don’t need to be to figure this one out.

My stomach is left in knots from the guilt of horrifying my parents, as though they’ve seen into my brain and witnessed what it got down to while I was sleeping. James, someone I am attracted to and have chemistry with, makes me feel as though I’m pushing boundaries of everything I know. It’s excites me and upsets me all at once. My parents seem out of reach. The conflict has me sitting down on the bed again, my head in my hands.

As I pack my bags into the trunk of his car and my father gets in next to me, I can’t look at him, wondering if he knows what I’m thinking and if I’m disgusting him as much as I pictured.

He drops me off at the bus station with his always sage advice, “Keep your grades up, and don’t give up hope, kanna. Start looking for jobs.”

I will, I resolve, as I ride back to University Park. I sleep most of the way back.

On Monday after class, I visit James. Sophia and Luca are there already, watching television as I let myself into the unlocked apartment. They bound off the couch, give me hugs my lungs will never recover from, and observe with relief that I look better than last week. James comes out of his room at the commotion and his eyes light up when he sees me in the middle of his living room. He kisses me quickly and murmurs, “I’m glad you’re back” against my hair.

“We’ve been worried about you.” Sophia waits until we’ve all gotten comfortable before speaking.

“I know,” I tell them. “I just…”

“Didn’t want to talk to anyone?” Sophia fills in, and I nod.

“Did your parents have any ideas about what to do next, baby?” James asks.

I rehash the suggestions they offered at dinner: travel, India, different school, teach, research. I leave out the marriage part.

“Your dad’s right, you know,” he says, sitting back. I stare. “Nithya, when we first met, you told me you didn’t know anything else. What if this is a chance to start over?”

“I don’t know about that. The rejections feel a lot more personal… Like all those schools thought I wasn’t a good person or wouldn’t be a good doctor. I’m reeling from it.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, Nithya.” Sophia is staunch in her opinion. “You would be the doctor I would take my children to in a heartbeat. I would trust you with my health over anyone. I think you’d make a far more compassionate and loving doctor than, say, Sejal.”

Sophia never badmouths Sejal. Sejal’s personality is legendary, but Sophia has always tolerated it well. It seems, though, that this rejection has affected more than just my view on the world. Sophia deems it an injustice.

“Well, Sejal probably got in somewhere. I didn’t,” I mumble. I haven’t talked to her in a month or two. If I tell her about the rejections, she’ll either answer back with where she got accepted or launch into a diatribe about how I should have tried harder.

“I wouldn’t give up hope, Nithya. My sister didn’t get into her choices for graduate school after college. She worked for a year and got in the second time she applied. You can do the same,” Luca suggests.

“Listen, maybe this journey needs to be a little more difficult so it is worth it. Do you want to be a doctor? If so, apply again. Do something in the next year that will help you. If not, maybe this is the time to adjust your trajectory. Maybe you can be something else, something you never gave yourself the chance to think about,” Sophia says.

“Like what?” I ask, doubtfully.

“You tell us,” Sophia, Luca, and James say together, before looking at each other and laughing.

“You guys hang out too much,” I mutter, but they get a reluctant smile.

They all look so happy. Their futures are sealed.
Hang out with those who lift you up to meet your potential
, my mom used to tell me, and that is one piece of advice I’ve always followed. The three people in front of me are a testament to that philosophy. It’s also time to tell them about the other hurdle I’ve crossed in the last few days.

“One more thing…” I glance at James, who signals with his head to let me know it’s okay to tell Luca and Sophia. “I told my parents about James.”

“Seriously?” Luca’s eyes go wide.

“Woo! Finally!” Sophia cries out in jubilation.

Only James is silent, his chest broad with pride.

“This is huge, Nithya!” Sophia exclaims, too elated to notice the covert communication. “How do you feel?”

“A little shell-shocked,” I admit. “They didn’t scream or yell or
anything
. My mom is sort of in denial. They haven’t mentioned it.”

“Maybe it won’t be a problem,” Luca offers optimistically, and James looks at me again, reading my eyes.

“You just crossed this monster hurdle, Nithya. Your two biggest fears came true in one week, and you got through them both. Be proud of yourself,” Sophia tells me firmly.

I thank her, but I’m left wondering how pride can be so mixed with uncertainty.

“What’s on your mind?” James asks as we cuddle in bed, watching TV.

“I’ll tell you when my thoughts catch up to all that’s happened in the last few days.”

“So how did you tell them? I mean, where was your opening to let them know?”

“I kind of blurted it out.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope. My mom told me to consider getting married. Dad didn’t agree with her timing. Anisha was going on about how everyone was overreacting to medical school. And then I lost my mind and came out with it.”

He bursts out laughing. “For all of that worry, you really ripped the Band-Aid right off, didn’t you?”