There's Something About Sweetie(58)

“You won’t.” She smiled her serene smile. “I trust you. Anyway, let me worry about that, okay?”

“I … But … Are you sure?”

She squeezed his hands and her smile flourished into a grin. His heart sputtered and flapped around in his chest like a poor, frightened bird. “Yes. I’m sure. Ashish, you already think that I’m wise and kind. That’s what you said. Were you lying?”

“Well, no.” He didn’t say that thinking someone was wise or kind didn’t necessarily mean you were going to fall in love with them at some point. He thought Ma was those things too.

But then Sweetie went up on her tiptoes and kissed him, their hands pressed together between their bodies, and all logical, rational thought went flying out of his head.

There was seriously nothing like kissing Sweetie Nair. If everyone could kiss her, there would be no nuclear weapons. No arms races. People wouldn’t want to drop bombs or steal money because they’d be too busy trying to sneak in another kiss. Kissing her was the solution to world peace. Ashish was sure of it. Actually, maybe it was better that no one knew that. Less competition. He wrapped his hands in her rainbow hair and pulled her closer.

They sat sipping smoothies at one of the food trucks.

“How’s the vanilla avocado?” Sweetie asked.

He held out the cup so she could taste it. She made a face. “Not too bad for being vanilla avocado. Try my peanut butter chocolate banana.”

He did and screwed up his nose. “Oh God. Too. Sweet.”

She laughed. “Good thing you’re not dating someone named Sweetie or anything.”

He winked at her. “That’s different.”

She dropped her eyes in that shy way, and his heart trip-hammered. For someone who considered himself a bit of a player, Ashish realized he spent a lot of time being completely charmed by Sweetie. He told his heart to STFU immediately.

“So tell me something,” he said, crossing his legs and throwing one arm over the back of his chair to distract from the feeling. “Your parents have no idea? What do they think you’re doing?”

“Hanging out with the girls,” Sweetie said. “Kayla, Izzy, and Suki have been really good about covering for me.” She sipped her smoothie for a quiet moment. “But I still really don’t like lying to them. I wish I didn’t have to.”

“You won’t for long. We’ll tell them in a bit, right?” He didn’t say that at the end of the four dates, they would probably mutually decide to break up. Ma and Pappa thought he’d be madly in love with Sweetie. She was okay with him being physically attracted to her because she thought the emotional stuff would come later. He was sure that at the end of this he’d consider her a really good friend. But love? That just wasn’t going to happen. He was tapped out. It was like he was a basketball full of love instead of air, and Celia had come by with a screwdriver, poked a giant hole in it, and drained it empty. The ball would never hold love again. It was damaged.

“Yeah,” Sweetie said, answering his question. “I just hope Amma forgives me. Our relationship’s a little complicated right now.”

“Did you say you relate to your dad more?”

Sweetie leaned back and smiled that sparkly smile of hers. “Yeah. Achchan and I are really similar, and I don’t mean just physically. We’re almost like mind twins or something. I can tell he knows something’s up. Just earlier he was asking me about Izzy, Suki, and Kayla, and …” She shook her head, her smile fading. “I really wanted to tell him. But if I do, I know he’ll want to tell Amma out of some sense of loyalty. And that totally defeats the purpose of the Sassy Sweetie Project.” She stopped short, her eyes wide.





CHAPTER 21





Sweetie’s blood froze. She was literally a block of ice. Okay, not literally, but almost.

She did not just say that out loud. Please, God. Please let it have been an aural hallucination or something. PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS—




“The what?” Ashish felt a grin spreading across his face. “The Sassy Swee—”

Sweetie leaned forward and put a small hand over his lips. He tried not to enjoy the feeling too much. “Never, ever repeat that. Ever.”

“But—”

“Ashish, I am begging you.”

He studied her expression, her wide, panicked eyes, and bit on the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing. He held up his hands and spoke, muffled, from behind her hand. “Okay, okay. I won’t say it.”

She retrieved her hand and sat back down. She was sipping very primly at her smoothie when Ashish said, laughing, “But you gotta tell me what that entails.”

She glared at him. “It entails standing up for myself, for what I believe to be true. It entails me overcoming sixteen years of crap messages from my mom and the media and other people in my life—both kids and adults alike—who think I’m less than them because of how I look.”

Ashish softened. “Oh.” He took her hand. “I really like it. I think you should get a T-shirt that says that, honestly.”

Sweetie rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Well, if you got me a T-shirt, I’d wear it. Proudly.”

She studied his face, apparently assessing whether he was joking or not. “You really mean that, don’t you?”