From Twinkle, With Love(45)

Sahil grinned at me from the couch and I instantly grinned back as if I’d learned nothing at all. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d hold you to your promise to come to my place and eat my dad’s pancakes. That is, if you still want to? I know this is out of the blue. …”

“Oh, yeah! No, I definitely want to.” I went to sit by him on the couch, my mind thrilling as the memory from the carnival slipped back in. How he’d held me close on the Ferris wheel. How we’d finally just confessed our feelings to each other, one groundling to another, seeing and being seen. Even if I had told him things couldn’t go further than that, it had felt so good to say the words out loud. And to hear what he’d said back to me, to see that softness in his eyes when he looked at me, the gentleness of his hand when he gripped mine. I smiled shyly at him. “You look pretty grab for so early in the morning.”

He did too. He was wearing a button-down shirt again (green this time) with the sleeves rolled up, and khaki shorts. His hair looked like it had been gelled, and he smelled amazing. It was like he’d made an effort to come meet my parents. He’s perfect boyfriend material, my heart said. Swoony, respectful, smart, kind, passionate … It was still extolling Sahil’s many, many virtues when he said, “Thanks.”

Mummy laughed from the armchair across from us. “Twinkle never wakes up at eight a.m. on the weekend!”

I glared at her, feeling this weird mixture of angry sadness I only felt around Mummy (and felt a lot around her, to be honest). Now that we had a visitor she wanted to talk like she knew everything about me? Now that Sahil was sitting here, she wanted to appear to be a mother, someone who gave a crap. But why couldn’t she do that for me all the time?

“True,” Papa added. “She wakes up at noon and has lunch directly!”

But before I could say anything salty about how would he know because he was more concerned with the schedule of his kids at his job, Dadi came in with a silver tray completely buried in biscuits from the Indian store. “Sahil,” she said. “Would you like some biscuits? We have kaju pista, chocolate bourbon, Butter Bite …”

“Dadi,” I said, shaking my head. “He came over to invite me to breakfast that his dad’s making. I don’t think his parents would be too happy if he ruined his appetite here.”

Dadi’s face got all soggy like a piece of notebook paper left in the rain. “Oh …”

“No, no,” Sahil said, hopping up from the couch and going over to her. “These look delicious!” He stuffed three in his mouth, gobbled, and swallowed them in record time. Then, looking around with a mischievous grin, he said, “Teenage boy’s metabolism.”

Everyone burst out laughing. Everyone in my family liked him right away, even Mummy and Papa, who were generally suspicious of boys. And how could they not? Sahil is like gentle sun on a winter’s day. You automatically want to turn your face to it and soak it up.

Well, I left because I needed to get my shoes from my room and I’ve been in here a while, so I’m gonna go now. More later.

Love,

Twinkle





Sunday, June 14

Sahil’s room (craziness!)


Dear Ava DuVernay,

We drove up farther north of the city, where some of the richer kids in school live. I kept glancing at Sahil as we drove; it was like my eyes were magnets and he was Iron Man. I’d never noticed before how the hair on his arms ranges from a deep black to a reddish brown, or how his fingers are just the right amount of big and gentle-looking. Occasionally he’d catch me looking and grin at me.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said after a few minutes. “You can’t deny it, T. You and me? We’re like … like Dracula and his castle. Meant to be.”

One thing that made my heart race was how Sahil could be so adorkable around me sometimes, tripping over his shoes and stuff, and other times, he was so smoothly, dashingly confident. He wasn’t afraid to take control, to tell me how he felt. It’s like his personality was an aphrodisiac made specifically for one Twinkle Mehra.

I snorted to cover up how off-balance he made me feel. “You are such a dork.”

“You know you’d miss it if it was gone.”

I laughed. He was joking, but his words tugged at my heart as thoughts from last night filtered into my brain. After what we’d shared at the carnival, I knew losing Sahil would leave a gaping hole in my life.

I blinked back to the present moment as we pulled past the gates of Sahil’s subdivision. It was pretty fancy, with big houses with outdoor fireplaces and big front yards and pillars and stuff. Things you never would see in my neighborhood, unless you counted Mrs. Wilson’s rotting “deck” made of two by fours, which she began to put together herself but never bothered to finish. Mrs. Wilson is a little flighty like that, which is why she sometimes pays me to go knock on her door and remind her to clean her hamster cage. She doesn’t own a hamster. Yes. I have many questions too.

Sahil turned down a street and pulled up a driveway to this sprawling gray house with giant windows. “Oh my God,” I said. “You have four garages?”

Sahil winced. “Yeah … but they’re all really small?”

We both laughed together.

“Come on,” he said, pulling into one of the garages and shutting off the engine. “Let’s go inside so you can meet the parental unit.”