There's Something About Sweetie(37)
“Thanks,” Ashish said to the two of them, relaxing a little.
“But look,” Pinky said from beside him. “I definitely don’t think you should judge a person by their size, you know that. For me, it’s more just … she looks so innocent and … and sweet, Ash. Like she thinks the world literally runs on rainbows and unicorn farts.”
“Mm,” Elijah said, licking orange Cheetos dust off his fingers. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to get bored and break the poor girl’s heart. Besides, you have to admit … you’ve been sort of shallow about choosing girls. And from what you just said, personality-wise, Sweetie isn’t at all the type of girl you’d have dated before Celia.”
Oliver nibbled on his thumb and nodded. He seemed the most nervous about this conversation, his gray eyes big and guileless. If Ashish knew him at all, and he did, he probably just didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “What’s this about, Ash? Why are you agreeing to do your parents’ whole four-date thing? I thought their idea of the perfect girl and your idea were diametrically opposed.”
Ashish sighed and put his phone away. Trust Oliver to get to the crux of the matter. The boy would make a kick-ass shrink someday. “I don’t know. I guess … I’ve tried my way for a long time. And what has it gotten me? Some conventionally hot girls, sure, but life should be about more than just who you’re gonna do on Saturday night, right? It was different with Celia, but we all know what a spectacular success that turned out to be.. So I just figured, you know, I’m gonna see what my parents have to say. Samir gave me the idea, to be honest. It seemed totally idiotic at first, but then they went on and on about how they could find me a good girl when the time was right, and they just seemed so confident. …” He trailed off and took a swig of his milk. He felt three pairs of eyes on him, waiting. “And then I met her. She’s sweet—you guys are right—but she’s also a killer athlete and intelligent and, I don’t know, just seems like such a good person at the core. Like there won’t be drama and angst and all that stuff there was with Celia. And I think right now …” He took a breath and ran a hand along his jaw. “Right now I think I need that.”
Pinky scooted closer to him on the bench and put her arm around his waist. “Then we’ll support you.”
“Absolutely,” Elijah said.
“We only want what’s best for you, Ash,” Oliver said, smiling a little. “We love you.”
“Love you guys too,” Ashish mumbled, feeling just a tiny bit stupid for saying it out loud. Especially to Elijah and Pinky, the least demonstrative people in the world. But when he looked around at their faces, all he saw was understanding and affection, the kind that came from a decade-long friendship mulled in secrets that had been shared in tree houses and late-night high jinks never to be repeated to parental units. The kind that felt like home. Ashish felt his shoulders relax for the first time in months.
Samir was waiting for him on the basketball court when he got home with Pinky, Oliver, and Elijah in tow. He saw him as he got out of the Jeep, so he tossed his backpack back in and they all walked over. “Yo.”
Samir turned around and spun the ball on his finger. “Hey, man. Hey, Oliver, Elijah.” He paused. “Um, hey, Pinky.”
Pinky grunted something in response. There was no love lost between those two—Pinky called Samir “that spoiled homeschooled infant,” and Samir called her “that pretentious, parrot-haired freak” (rubbing Pinky’s face in the infamous lime-green-hair phase she’d gone through). After their earsplitting argument at the formal holiday party Ma and Pappa had thrown last year, Ashish had made a huge effort to keep them apart.
“Man, I wish you’d texted me. We’re headed over to Roast Me in a minute.”
Samir slapped his forehead. “Oh, right, it’s Monday. I totally forgot it’s your study night.”
“Yeah, but if you come by tomorrow, we can shoot some—”
“Why don’t you come?” Oliver cut in. “I mean, it’s not like we actually study anyway.” He laughed and looked at Ashish, totally missing the death glare he was giving him. Had Oliver forgotten what had happened just a few months ago at the party? If Pinky and Samir had both been dudes on the basketball team instead of the people they were, he was sure they’d have ended up in a fistfight, smashing the punch bowl and making kindling of furniture, like in the movies.
“Really?” Samir said, tossing the ball to the side. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Oliver said, smiling. He looked around at everyone else when they were silent. “Right, guys?”
“Fine by me,” Elijah said, just as oblivious as Oliver.
“Right,” Ashish said after a pause. He smiled at Samir. “I just need to pick up my calculus textbook and then we can go.”
“Why do you need to do that if you don’t actually study?” Samir asked as they began to walk to the house.
“Um, because it’s all about impressions?” Pinky said in a way that suggested any moron should know that. “If the parents think we’re actually getting work done, they won’t care if we’re out late on a school night. Duh.”
“Sorry I asked,” Samir mumbled, sounding genuinely chided.