Chapter 34
If He Calls Me Sunflower One More Time, I’m Going to Kiss Him
Goa, Monday
I find Rudra in the parking lot, sitting in his car, which seems to have become a haven for heartbroken individuals. I really
should’ve known to check here first.
I’m out of breath when I skid to a stop on the tarmac, panting. I nearly gave up and sobbed multiple times as I scoured the
resort to look for him, and now that I see him . . . now that I finally see him, my heart is accelerating faster than particles at CERN.
I go over to the passenger side and knock on the glass.
Rudra looks up from where he’s slumped over the wheel. His eyes are red, as if he’s been crying. I want to kick myself. I’m the reason this beautiful boy has been crying.
I’m going to make it up to him if it’s the last thing I do.
Rudra’s eyes widen when he sees me outside the window, and it takes him a few seconds to gather his wits. When he finally does, his shaking hands get the door unlocked. I open the door and get into the car.
It’s quiet at first, both of us just staring at each other in this small space. The same space where we almost kissed.
“What are you doing here?” Rudra says, and his voice is a croak. His second question is quiet, unsaid: Why aren’t you with Amrit?
All my emotions for him bubble to the surface again.
“I don’t want him,” I blurt.
Rudra looks so bewildered it’s almost as if he has no idea what I’m talking about. “What?”
I shift closer to him, smiling so wide it’s a surprise the corners of my mouth aren’t touching my ears. “You heard me.”
Rudra stares down at me, a million emotions tiding through his eyes, like the waves on the ocean. He looks stupefied.
“What I felt for Amrit was a silly crush and it’s over—been over.” I clasp Rudra’s cheeks. His pulse is racing; I can feel his blood pounding against my fingertips. I love that I can
make him feel like this. “Because I like you, Rudra Desai.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and he shuts it. I smile; let him be the blubbering mess for once.
“But you said . . . in the room . . . that you . . .”
“I said I wanted the plan to work out. Not my plan, our plan. I wanted to make sure Priti was able to reunite with Nikita.” I drop my gaze to his lips, and my breath hitches. So
does his. “I get why you might have believed it until our kiss, but even after that? How did you still think I had feelings
for Amrit after everything that happened between us?”
Rudra brings his hand up and touches my cheek. This is nothing like his other touches. It’s so delicate it’s as if he’s afraid
he’ll crack my skin if he applies even the slightest amount of pressure.
“Because I didn’t think you could ever feel the same way about me that I do about you.”
I hold his gaze with my unwavering one. “And how do you feel about me?”
“I’m in love with you, sunflower.”
I can’t breathe.
“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” Rudra whispers. “Since I’ve known Priti. It’s always been you. I never had
the guts to say it because you’re leagues beyond me. You’re like—the sun. Untouchable. Blinding to look at. I’ve craved your
warmth, for so long, and I knew that craving was all I could ever have. You would never notice me, never look in my direction,
and I was okay with that. These past few days—they’ve felt like a dream.” He brings his other hand up so he’s cupping my face,
just like I’m cupping his. Tears streak my cheeks, again, and he wipes them away as they fall. “I can’t believe I finally got to talk with you, be around you, touch you, kiss you. It felt surreal.”
“Why?” I say through my tears, my throat, mouth, and nose clogging with emotion. “What’s so special about me?” The question
feels silly, and the moment it leaves my mouth I wish I hadn’t spoken at all, because it feels like I’m fishing.
“What’s so special about you?” Rudra repeats, as if he’s stunned I could ever ask him that question. “You’re kind, smart,
beautiful, talented, and a little unhinged, but I love that about you. Every summer that I saw you, you were somehow always
better than my memory of the year before, and I didn’t even know that could be possible.”
I burst into laughter and tears all at once, feeling like I’m floating in a dream. But his hands, while delicate, are so solid,
and so firm, and so real, and the clues and hints from my life are suddenly all there, and it doesn’t feel so unbelievable anymore. Especially not with the way he’s looking at me right now.
Priti was right.
It’s a hundred—no, a thousand times better hearing it from him.
“Then why didn’t you say something?” My whole body is trembling, and I’m so out of control I feel like my bones will disintegrate
with how shaky I feel. “Why didn’t you ask me, once, how I felt about you?”
“Because it would’ve broken my heart to get so close to you, to be with you, only to have you choose Amrit. I wouldn’t have
gotten in your way. Because I only want to see you happy. I never want”—he drops his hands, his voice breaking—“to be the
one who takes your light away from you.”
I grab his hands, gripping them tight. My heart is full, blown up like a balloon. I could float away into the sky and never
come back. But he grounds me, yet again, with just his presence, and what I want has never been clearer to me.
He gazes down at me, hope sprouting in his eyes like tiny wings. He’s halfway between giving in and letting go.
“Rudra,” I say, looking straight up at him. “The only one I care about . . .” I lean into him until his nose is brushing mine,
until the heat of his breath is on my skin, searing, until physically being away from him feels like it will kill me. “. . .
is you.”
I kiss him.
I kiss him like he’s going to vanish off the face of the earth if I don’t, like he’s going to turn to dust if I don’t, like
he’s going to melt into the leather, into the tarmac, into the sea far below the ground, and become one with it if I don’t.
I kiss him without a shred of hesitation. I kiss him until my head spins and my knees are weak.
Rudra’s lips hiccup on mine as I pull away to catch my breath, body numb and mind wheeling, and his eyes are half lidded with pleasure. I’m floating two feet in the air.
Rudra’s eyes open, and as we gaze at each other, his face breaks into the most beautiful smile. Which makes me kiss him again,
and again, and again, until I’m a wobbly mess. And he kisses me back with the same intensity, the same longing, his hands
catching my waist, my hips . . .
Something buzzes in Rudra’s pocket.
We break our kiss in shock, and Rudra’s lips are swollen red from making out. I watch him, watch those lips, as he fumbles
for his phone and frowns at the screen.
It’s Priti.
“Answer it,” I say breathlessly.
He does.
“If y’all are done fucking, do you want to grab some food?” Priti’s voice is loud and booming.
“We’re not fucking,” Rudra and I say in unison, but we’re both smiling.
“Whatever. The ceremony is over”—wait, already?—“and the buffet’s on, and, well, it’s free food.”
Rudra looks at me. “What do you want to do?”
“I’m actually quite hungry, to be honest,” I say, clutching my stomach—my very empty stomach, I suddenly register. No wonder
I’ve been feeling so faint. “We haven’t had lunch or breakfast.”
“All right, then,” Rudra says. “We’ll be there.”
“Cool. Nik and I are waiting by the buffet tables.”
The line clicks, and Rudra and I sit still for a moment, soaking up everything that’s happened the past week. I would love
to make out more with him, but I don’t want to pass out halfway with hunger.
Rudra probably senses it too, because he doesn’t initiate kissing me again.
Instead, he gives me one last peck on the nose in a manner that makes me want to squeal like a little girl.
He’s looking at me with so much adoration and .
. . love in his eyes I can’t believe I was stupid enough to have missed it these past few days.
No, all this time.
When we’re inside the resort again, holding hands, I catch sight of Priti and Nikita by the buffet tables, as she said they’d
be. They’re far away, but even from here, I can see Priti’s face, radiant with the sort of happiness and energy that can’t
be manufactured or feigned. I hope I get to see her this happy for a very long time, and given that both she and Rudra are
going to be joining me in the States soon, I think I will.
That’s when it suddenly hits me that I’m no longer going to be the sole bearer of Srishti’s One and Only American Cousin title.
Not with Priti there.
But I’m not too disappointed, because after everything, I’ve earned some pretty good and brand-new alternatives. For starters—I’m
the Cool American Cousin, the one with exciting, wild stories to remember and ones yet to be told. Or the Best American Cousin, who helped Priti reunite with the love of her life.
And frankly? I can’t think of a better ending to this summer.