There's Something About Sweetie(40)
“Well, if you’re drinking coffee, and we’re drinking coffee …,” Oliver, that unstoppable idiot, said. He shrugged. “Join us.”
Ashish scoffed. “I’m sure Sweetie has way better things to do than—”
“No, I don’t, actually,” Sweetie said, looking at him with her eyebrows raised. Then, turning to Oliver, she beamed. “I’d love to join you guys. Thanks.”
“Great! Just come on over to that table.” Oliver gestured with his chin before walking away.
Samir, who hadn’t said a word and had just looked increasingly confused, followed him, still frowning.
As Ashish and Sweetie walked up to the counter, she turned to him, one eyebrow cocked. “So. Is there a reason you don’t want me to meet your friends?”
“Believe me, it’s to protect you,” Ashish said. Then he realized what she might be getting at, that he might be embarrassed because she was fat. “And, uh, I already showed them your picture today at lunch. That’s how Oliver recognized you.”
She looked away, but she was smiling. “Oh. Good.”
Ashish’s heart sang at the appearance of that somewhat-dimple.
Ashish insisted on paying for her drink. Sweetie found that charming, even though she supposed it had its roots in some kind of sexist thinking. But still. It was adorable, the way he seemed both nervous and intent on being chivalrous.
They walked to his friends’ table in the back. Sweetie kept darting looks at him; he’d smile at her and then go back to glaring at them. She got the feeling that he’d been honest with her—he was apprehensive about this not because of her or how she looked, but because of them. Sweetie felt herself relax a bit. Whatever his friends were like, she could deal with it.
All four of the people at the table stopped talking (actually, it sounded kind of like they were arguing, but Sweetie couldn’t be sure) when she and Ashish walked up. They sat on the couch beside each other, their arms brushing lightly as they got situated. Sweetie’s stomach did a silly, flippy-excited thing and she tried not to let it show on her face.
“I’m so glad you could join us!” Oliver said. “This is my boyfriend, Elijah.” He gestured to the muscular black boy next to him, who nodded but didn’t give her the exuberant smile Oliver had. “Samir you’ve already met, and that over there’s Pinky.” He pointed to a dark-skinned Indian girl with rainbow-hued hair, about ten earrings in each ear, and a very opinionated shirt.
“’Sup.” She nodded coolly at Sweetie.
The girl was extremely pretty in a kind of Goth, glamorous way. For an insecure minute Sweetie wondered whether she was one of Ashish’s exes, but then she put the thought firmly out of her head. That way lies madness and jealousy, Sweetie.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” she said, smiling at each of them. “And thanks for letting me grab coffee with you.”
“Sure!” Oliver said. “It’s our pleasure.” He elbowed Elijah subtly, and Elijah grunted assent.
“So what Oliver said about Saturday … You and Ashish are dating?” the other Indian-American boy, Samir, asked, his expression clearing like he’d arrived at a conclusion to a particularly bothersome mathematical problem. He was a tall, slightly lanky dude with neatly combed hair. He was the best dressed out of all of them, in a button-down shirt and neatly pressed khaki pants. He looked like a banker in the making. (Whereas Ash was wearing a Pokemon T-shirt he’d probably had since eighth grade, which was kind of incorrigibly cute.)
“Well, yeah.” Ashish shifted uncomfortably beside Sweetie, and she tossed him a look. What was that about? But he didn’t make a move to do or say anything, so she continued. “But our first official date isn’t till Saturday.” Laughing, she said, “Ashish’s parents have it all figured out.”
Ashish cleared his throat. “Yep. So anyway, Pinky, do you have any more protests coming up?”
“Ashish’s parents?” Samir asked, his eyes narrowing. “How did you guys meet, exactly?”
“Ashish’s mom set us up,” Sweetie replied. Was it just her, or was there something weird about Samir’s expression and the way he was asking these questions? Why did he look almost … cocky?
“HA!” Samir said way too loudly, and Sweetie jumped. “So you decided to take my advice, didja? You could tell the S-Man knew what he was talking about.”
Ashish rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, bro.”
“Oh, come on. Just admit it! You wanted a way out of your girlless fog, and I gave it to you. I’m like the genius problem solver, just fixing up your life without a second thought.”
Sweetie frowned and glanced at Ashish. He was still trying to appear nonchalant, but a muscle in his jaw twitched. And his shoulders were sort of hunched in, like he was trying to protect himself. But from what? And why was Samir being kind of an ass? No one was laughing.
“You just went around for months not being able to play, having trouble with the ladies, and now look at you! You should really have come to me a long time ago, dude. Like, when Celia cheated—”
“Shut up, Samir!” Pinky’s voice was louder even than Samir’s. Her eyes flashed behind her glasses. “Look around. Do any of us look amused? Doesn’t that give you a hint that you should shut your damn mouth? News flash: Nobody likes you, and this kind of crap is exactly why!”