Chapter 7
JAHNVI
T he jitters had started to set in, but I couldn’t bob my leg up and down like I usually did because of my heels.
Auditoriums had a habit of amplifying every single sound you didn’t want amplified, and the clacking of my heels was the last thing I wanted everyone hearing as I stood waiting for my result.
Finalists always stood up on stage as the announcer, well, announced what place you got out of the other finalists.
Everett, being the overachiever he was, had competed in two categories while I only did one. He’d already gotten first in his other category. I looked over at him wearing his blue medal as the names were announced.
“In sixth place...”
He winked at me, and I looked back down at my feet in anticipation.
He was... really good. Like really, really good. Good enough for people to be stunned for a second before clapping when he was done. His piece was just a simple monologue about confessing his feelings for someone.
Simple and completely effective in getting someone’s attention.
“In fourth place...”
Okay, top three. I looked to the side and made eye contact with him again. Everett, this other girl who had performed about addiction, and I were the only ones left on stage.
What was my piece about? It was about love too. The protagonist falls in love with someone only to lose them in the end. I’d chosen for its simplicity too—and I’d actually chosen it before he picked his.
You can imagine how mad I was when I realized he’d chosen something so very similar.
He claimed he hadn’t known, and that it was a coincidence.
But there was no way. Maybe he heard me practicing from my window or something.
Just like how our restaurants were across from each other, our houses faced each other too. Just my luck, of course.
The addiction piece got third. It was either him or me now. I saw his chest rise as he sucked in a big breath and cracked his knuckles.
He had a habit of playing with his hands when he got nervous. He wore a ring on one of his thumbs that I’d seen him fidget with when talking to customers or when he lied about how his grandma was “right around the corner” when people asked about his parental guardian.
“In second...Jahnvi Patel!”
I stepped forward to get my ribbon before my mind could comprehend what had just happened.
Ugh. Fuck.
I left the stage, not making any eye contact with Everett. As I walked through the rows, people stood up to give Everett a standing ovation like they did for every champion. I didn’t even need to look back to know that he was smiling one of his trademark smiles.
The ones where his eyes almost close completely.
“So.”
I looked up from my phone as I felt the seat sink as someone sat down next to me.
“I believe you owe me.”
Everett practically engulfed the whole seat with his legs. He gave the seat a frown as they dug into his knees; it looked painful.
“Sorry, what was I supposed to tell you again?” I eyed the two ribbons around his neck as he set his backpack down next to his feet. He could have put them in his backpack, but he just needed to show off.
“Flowers.” He straightened back up to look at me. “Where does your dad order flowers from for those big Indian weddings you guys cater?”
“Why?” I shut up when he gave me a look.
The bus lurched forward, and I rolled my eyes.
“We only got flowers for one wedding ’cause they were family friends.
You can’t find the proper flowers at the usual flower stores, but the India Bazaar on Highway 9 sells jasmine fresh enough to last for about three days. ”
“Only three days?”
“Yeah, or they wilt. How long did you think flowers lasted for anyway?”
He waved my question away. “Do they sell wedding wreaths?”
“No. My dad had to get the flowers from them, and my grandma made the wreath. She actually used to own a business—”
“And I couldn’t care less. How hard is it?”
“How hard is what?”
“Making wedding wreaths.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, but he wasn’t joking. “A-are you being serious right now?”
The bus took a sharp turn, and he grabbed the edge of the seat in front of us so he didn’t fall on me. His thigh was also brushing mine now, and we did the awkward scooting away thing. Everett cleared his throat. “What gives you the idea I’m joking?”
“It’s impossible, Everett,” I huffed. “It takes years of practice so you don’t ruin the flowers when you attach them together. My grandma’s been doing it since she was a kid and that was the only reason she could!”
“Attach them, okay.” He looked down, and his eyes glazed in deep thought. “And how do you attach them exactly?”
“How do you attach them? With like this specific knot. I couldn’t tell you; my grandma banned me from going near the flowers after I tried to tie them together once and—”
“With just, like, regular string?”
“Jasmine flowers, yes. But for bigger things, like wedding wreaths, the string isn’t strong enough, so you use twine.”
“Twine?” He laughed and shook his head. “Where am I supposed to get twine in Chicago?”
“Well, I mean you can get anything in Chicago, if you look in the right places...” I trailed off as it dawned on me. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re going to try and make your own wedding wreath?”
He gave me a look and crossed his arms, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his suit hugged his biceps in a...really nice way. “Jahnvi, you really never stop surprising me. Why do you think I have a sudden curiosity over big Indian weddings all of a sudden?”
I pointed my finger at him. “Hey! How would I know if you don’t tell me anything? And why in the world would you want to make a wedding wreath? You run a restaurant, not a flower boutique?”
But as usual, he had turned to face forward and ignored my question completely.
I could go on and on about how I know him so well. How he played with his hands, his little tells when he lies, and all that. But honestly, I barely know him. What does he like to do in his spare time? Does he watch shows? Maybe he likes to read.
He doesn’t really have a personality.
Well, it’s more like he has multiple personalities. Something more grown-up and serious around adults, something more jerkish and playful at school, and something so closed off with me.
Maybe it added to his appeal, the fact that I could never figure out what he was.
“So.” Everett broke the silence after a bit, jarring me.
“I am, funny thing, actually catering for a wedding. I’m working with your dad for the food, and I’m getting flowers too.
The couple’s coming in two days for the food, actually.
I’m not stressed about the food, but the flowers on the other hand.
” He shook his head and itched his scalp, still looking down at his shoes.
Maybe miracles do happen. The mountain was finally shifting.
“Everett.” I blinked. “Weddings are...hard. Like, they’re hard to pull off just catering for small restaurants like us.
Flowers too? After the two wedding wreaths, which are gonna be stressful themselves, they’ll also need boxes of jasmine flowers for guests’ hair, which have to be refrigerated properly so they don’t wilt.
I think my dad mentioned it was a South Indian wedding, right?
They’re crazy about jasmine flowers. And if you want to buy them actually strung together in string already, well it’s gonna get expensive. ”
He looked at me with his eyes scrunched. “About how much—an estimate? Do you know?”
He had no clue, did he? Has he ever been to a Hindu wedding? Well, has he actually been to any wedding?
“There are a lot of factors to it. I need more time to fully explain it.”
“Okay, tomorrow then?”
“What?”
“Tomorrow, explain it all tomorrow.” He looked at me like I was the one being outrageous. “Come with me while I go get flowers from that Indian Bazaar on Highway 9. It’s like an hour to get there and an hour back, so that’s plenty of time.”
“I’m not spending like two hours in a car with you.”
All of a sudden, he scooched his body closer, stopping my train of thought. He even scrunched his massive body down in that little bus seat so he was eye level with me.
And then he smiled.
But it wasn’t one of those where his eyes were closed. No, his eyes were completely open. They needed to be open so that he could see how flustered I got after he spoke his next few words.
“You seemed fine the last time you were in a car with me.”
His truck, the rain against the dark windows, him...his eyes...
I forced the mental images away and met his eyes with a forced smile. A smile so fake that it hid how much I was seething inside. “I have absolutely no problem driving with you to get flowers, Everett James.”
He straightened back up. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ll pick you up bright and early at seven.”