There's Something About Sweetie(38)

Ashish tossed him a look. Huh. He would’ve expected a much more spirited response.





CHAPTER 14





Once Ashish grabbed his book, they piled back into the Jeep and drove to Roast Me.

Samir followed in his car, and Ashish felt a little bad for him, always excluded from the group. It was tough, though. Samir spent his days at his house, while Ashish, Elijah, Oliver, and Pinky were together for eight hours a day every day at school and most weekends, too. Even when they did all hang out, it just wasn’t the same. Something always seemed off.

Like last summer when they’d all gone to Ashish’s parents’ mountain cabin and Samir had left early, right in the middle of a basketball game they were all playing. He said it was because he didn’t want his mom to worry, but they all knew the truth: Samir didn’t belong, and it was painfully obvious. Ashish wasn’t sure why Samir kept trying. Maybe because they were neighbors and Samir didn’t really have any other friends? Which was sad, Ashish guessed, in a way. Mostly annoying, though, because it made things awkward.

They got their usual table at the back of Roast Me, with a couch and an armchair. They had to add a chair for Samir, which Pinky didn’t look too happy about, but thankfully she didn’t say anything Pinky-like and snarky.

There was a silence as they all settled in, and then Samir said, “I like your shirt.”

Everyone’s heads swiveled to him. He was talking to Pinky, who was wearing a T-shirt she’d distressed and embellished herself. It said Nevertheless, She F*cking Persisted on the front in glitter letters, and on the back, You Can Bet Your Ass She Did. Pinky loved wearing what her parents called “provocative” shirts. She said it expressed her inner state, but really she just wanted to piss off her mom and dad. And it worked, too. They were second-generation Indian Americans, and though they weren’t as traditional as Ma and Pappa, they were both superconservative, stuffy lawyers. How they’d managed to spawn someone like Pinky, Ashish would never figure out.

“Um … thanks?” She tucked a lock of purple hair behind one ear and pushed back her rhinestone-studded glasses.

“She made it herself,” Oliver said, grinning. “I’m constantly telling her to make me one. … Still waiting!” He put on a mock-salty expression and Samir laughed.

“Oh, hey.” Hopping up, Samir said, “I’ll go get everyone a drink. What do you guys want?”

“Don’t worry about it; it’ll take too long. You don’t know our orders,” Pinky said.

Samir smiled, but it was frozen and tight. “I know. That’s why I asked what you all wanted. If you tell me, I’ll remember for next time.”

There was an awkward pause as they all digested that Samir thought there might be a next time. Then Oliver said, “I’ll just come with you!” They walked off together.

“I need a potty break,” Pinky muttered, standing up too, once the guys were gone. “Be back in a sec.”

Ashish groaned. “Why the heck did Oliver invite him?” he asked Elijah. “Did he totally forget the catastrophe that was the holiday party at my place?”

Elijah shook his head. “You know Ol. He doesn’t remember the bad stuff. And even if he did, he’d still have invited Samir because that’s just how he rolls. He hates seeing people left out.”

“I respect that,” Ashish replied. “But man. I have a feeling we’re going to have another screaming match on our hands before the night’s through.”

“Tell you what, let’s work together to keep ’em apart,” Elijah said, leaning forward. “Like, anytime you see Samir ask Pinky something, step in and answer. And I’ll do the same if Pinky does her little snipy thing at Samir.”

“Deal. Man, that’s going to be exhausting.”

“That’s why God invented coffee.”

Ashish laughed just as the door dinged. He looked toward it automatically—and then the world froze, except for her.

Sweetie walked in, talking on her phone and laughing that gorgeous, carefree, tinkling bell of a laugh. Her hair was pulled back into that high ponytail Ashish was beginning to grow very fond of, and she was wearing athletic pants and a bright-blue Piedmont T-shirt. She walked up and stood in line behind Samir and Oliver.

“Why do you look like you just swallowed a watermelon whole?” Elijah asked, craning his head to look at what Ashish was looking at. “Oh. Is that her?”

Ashish nodded. He pushed his shoulders back and was poised to go into his trademark swagger when he glanced down—and froze. “Oh, crap,” he muttered.

“What?” Elijah asked.

“What the hell am I wearing?” Ashish pulled on his Ash/Pikachu T-shirt in horror. “I look like a freaking eighth grader.” He sniffed experimentally at his armpit. “Damn it. Why didn’t I put on deodorant before we came out?”

Elijah regarded him closely, one eyebrow raised. “Dude, you look and smell fine. Just go over there and say hi.”

Ashish scoffed. “Uh, no. I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? Yes, you can. Just stand up, walk over there, open your mouth, and say, ‘Hi, Sweetie.’”

Ashish almost dived for Elijah’s mouth. “Shhhh! She might hear you!”