Chapter Nineteen
“Tujh Mein Rab Dikhta Hai”
by Roop Kumar Rathod
Lucy
My gaze remains steady out the window of Sushant’s car while he drives us to Meera’s house, since Mom took the car this morning for a life coaching conference outside of town.
The afternoon sunshine is warm, and the sweet-smelling air signals the arrival of spring.
A rap song plays on the radio, but all I can hear is the stifling silence between me and my boyfriend.
Things have been weird between us since I got into UCLA two days ago. Sushant is happy for me, of course, but I get the feeling he’s afraid of the three thousand miles that will separate us if my NYU acceptance letter doesn’t arrive soon.
I don’t blame him—I am too. I thought about it, and Dad’s right—if NYU doesn’t work out, a gap year doesn’t make sense when I already have UCLA welcoming me with open arms. I can’t let go of this opportunity.
Is love really enough to make a long-distance relationship work?
We haven’t even had sex yet. I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for it.
The suffocating guilt of having lied to Sushant this whole time about the origin of our relationship, which held me back when he tried to initiate sex, still weighs heavy on my heart.
To distract myself, I look down at Meera’s gift-wrapped present clutched tightly between my hands.
I don’t know how she’ll react to it, if she’ll be surprised, but I’ve wanted to gift her this for years.
Now that we’re so close to graduation and I’m so close to possibly leaving Madre Maria—forever—it’s my last chance to give her this.
“You excited?” Sushant asks, and I snap my gaze back to him. He’s dressed in a white cotton kurta, the sleeves bunched up at his elbows. Apparently, wearing white is custom at these Holi parties so that the bright colors streaking your clothing stand out more.
I nod, wiping my hands on my own white dress. “I am. Thanks for driving me.”
“Of course.” Sushant’s Adam’s apple bobs, a telltale crease appearing between his brows.
He’s aware of it too, how the energy of It Couple Sushant and Lucy has shifted.
Everything I’ve looked forward to in our combined future feels like it hinges on my getting into NYU—and with every passing day, I’m wondering if this relationship, born out of a lie, was ever real at all.
No. It was real. It is real. How can it not be?
We pull into Sushant’s garage, and he parks neatly in his spot. I dimly register Bollywood music booming from Meera’s backyard next door, the excited buzz and laughter of guests who have already arrived.
Sushant switches off the engine and faces me, one hand undoing his seat belt. He licks his lips, bringing his face closer to mine, and whispers, his breath on my skin, “We’re okay, right?”
My mouth parts. I don’t know how to answer him. But I force myself to smile and nod, planting a quick kiss on his lips. “Of course. I love you.”
As we get out of the car and head to the party, I spot familiar faces from the swim team and the football team, book club regulars, and Meera herself.
She’s grinning as she shows Seth everything she’s set up on the two tables: food, drinks, colored powder, water balloons…
but all I really notice is her. She looks radiant in a white flared tunic and light blue cutoff denim shorts, so unlike her usual getup. Black suits her, but so does white.
“Meera, happy birthday!” Sushant waves to her eagerly, and I snap out of my daze, plastering on a smile when the birthday girl approaches us. “The backyard looks so great,” Sushant adds, after giving her a one-armed hug.
“Well, you helped.” She beams at him, returning the hug. “And don’t worry, Appa and Dad have no idea about the bhaang.”
Sushant punches the air with his fist. “Yes! Let’s get high, baby.” He rubs the side of my cheek with a warm hand and jogs over to the table where Seth is standing.
It’s only then that Meera smiles at me rather nervously. “Thanks for coming, Lucy. I wasn’t sure if— Wait, is that a present for me?”
“Happy birthday.” I smile back and hand her the present wrapped in black paper. “Open it later,” I add when she weighs the paper-thin present in her hands. “Not…not here.”
Meera’s eyes widen with curiosity, but she nods and excuses herself to set it on another table, where two gift-wrapped packages are already stacked.
Natalie, hand in hand with Julien, runs over to me. “You came!” she exclaims. “I’m so excited. I’ve never played Holi before.”
Julien simply smiles at me, his eyes crinkling at the edges.
We haven’t talked about my dad or anything related to our last text conversation since it happened, but all it takes is his mere presence to comfort me.
Despite once being the reason for my annoyance, the French exchange student is now my safe space.
Within minutes, the party begins, and the backyard fills up with bodies dancing to the beat of the Bollywood dance music blaring from the Bluetooth speakers.
Meera’s parents aren’t around to chaperone since it’s a daytime event and the café probably needs their attention.
Which means Sushant eagerly hands everyone a glass of the cool, fragrant dairy-free drink he calls bhaang. Apparently, it’s laced with…pot?
“Thanks,” I say as I take the glass from him, but he’s already moved on to the next person. Frowning, I take a small sip, letting the flavors of rose, almond, and cardamom mingle in the back of my throat.
Everyone’s had some of the bhaang now, but Sushant still isn’t giving me a second glance as he dances with his jock friends and my fellow cheerleaders, pausing every few seconds to dab colored powder on their faces and hands.
My stomach knots. God, what’s happened to us? I hesitate, then gulp down the rest of the drink in one go. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, walk into the crowd, and join them, twirling in my dress and forcing out a giggle as one of the cheerleaders rubs red powder onto my cheeks.
I grab some blue powder and turn to throw it in Sushant’s direction, but he’s already walked over to where Meera is. His laughter booms across the space between us. He pulls on her arm, spinning her around as she smiles, then finishes his glass of bhaang and sets it aside.
“Happy Holi!” Natalie shrieks behind me, rubbing green powder on my bare shoulders.
I put the blue powder in my hands on her instead of my boyfriend, then give in as she pulls me in to dance with her and Julien.
The bhaang is slowly coursing its way through my veins, reassuring me that Sushant and I will be okay once again.
That the Tower card won’t take everything away from me, that I won’t let it.
Someone turns up the volume, and people pass around more steel tumblers filled to the brim with bhaang.
I bring my hands up and let loose, allowing the song and dance and drink to take control.
In my peripheral vision, I see Sushant still dancing with Meera.
He hasn’t left her side in over twenty minutes.
Part of me is certain he’s just having harmless fun, that he loves me and would never look at anyone else that way, forget Meera, the girl he knows I have bad blood with.
But the doubt pooling in my gut forces me to turn and watch them.
My heart lurches.
Sushant’s brightly colored hands are cupping Meera’s face, trailing their way down her neck and shoulders while he grins and sings along at the top of his lungs to the Bollywood song that’s playing.
She mumbles something, stepping out of his grasp, and starts to flick her hair out of her face, but his fingers get there first.
And then stay there. What is happening?
Meera looks over his shoulder and steps away just as Marvin from the football team points the hose at Sushant. He laughs, falling to the ground while drenched in water, still jamming to the music.
My eyes lock onto Meera’s. Her lips part as her gaze takes me in—the shades of red, green, blue, and yellow coating my body and clothes; my wet hair, which sits on one shoulder, probably limp from the humidity and sweat.
Then the widest grin spreads over her face, and she grabs a magenta-colored water balloon from the table and aims it at me.
I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips. “Meera Rao-George, don’t you dare—” Before I can finish my sentence, the balloon smacks me right in the chest, and my white dress turns every shade of red.
“Too late.” She doubles over, laughing. It’s the most musical sound in the world.
And despite my fears about her, Sushant, us, the Tower card, NYU, and all the things that are threatening to destroy my picture-perfect life one frame at a time, I let myself enjoy this moment.
Meera
Two hours into the party, we run out of bhaang and Holi supplies, so everyone reluctantly calls it a day, their clothes dripping and their faces beaming with both sweat and joy. I smile and hug everyone, handing them towels to dry off with before they head home.
Sushant wishes me a happy birthday again and leaves hand in hand with Lucy.
She gives me one last look, her brows pinching together, then walks back to his place.
Maybe she noticed his overly friendly behavior toward me.
I blink the thought away. No, I can’t think just yet about how differently he was acting—first, I need to figure out what I feel or, rather… what I didn’t feel.
When the backyard clears, I check my phone.
With the high of the party and the bhaang slowly fading, the loneliness of not having my friends around hits me.
Forget the fact that they didn’t show up today—they’re mad at me, I get that.
But they’ve ignored all my calls and messages and haven’t even greeted me on my eighteenth birthday, of all days.