Chapter 37
EVERETT
T here was a time last year where I dared Jahnvi to chug an entire vanilla milkshake.
We were out at a small café with some mutual friends and I noticed that she seemed a bit upset.
When I followed her gaze behind me, I saw that Joah Rolland, this guy she had a thing for a t the time, was drinking a smoothie with this other tall, blond girl.
He put his arm around the girl’s shoulders.
So, I challenged Jahnvi to distract her, and of course it worked. She downed her drink in a single go and looked at me to signal my turn.
The only problem? I’m lactose intolerant.
I also made a second mistake; I won and drank my milkshake a few seconds quicker than she had. Naturally, Jahnvi grabbed a milkshake from some random kid sitting at a table across from us and challenged me again, claiming that I had cheated.
She drank even faster that time.
Self-respect be damned! I lost on purpose and only drank half the Styrofoam cup because there was no way I was going to survive more milk. But of course, Jahnvi knew me way too well at that point.
“You lost on purpose,” she haughtily claimed and slid another milkshake toward me.
That was how competitive Jahnvi was. So when she didn’t challenge me to something in the first ten minutes of sitting down at our seats, I knew something was wrong. I figured it was probably all the stress from the tournament, but I missed her usual self so much.
I was stressed too. Bringing the old Jahnvi back could get my mind off things, because no matter how much I claimed she bothered me to wit’s end, her banter was familiar. And I really wanted familiar at that moment.
“Jahnvi,” I started, deciding to try and make her feel better, “bet I can chug this glass of water quicker than you.”
She chuckled softly. Taking the smallest sip out of her water, she set it back on the table daintily and looked back up at me. I smiled, waiting for her to pick the glass back up and down it or to make some mean comment about my outfit.
“Where did you get your vest? It looks really nice.”
Huh?
“Um...” I blanked, caught totally off guard.
“Err, I dunno. It might have been my grandpa’s, I think,” I said, silently daring her to take the bait.
I was literally dressed like Paddington the Bear and the fact that I hadn’t gotten a single remark about it from her yet was honestly making me uncomfortable at this point.
“Oh, I see.” Her eyes grew wide. “Not that I was making fun of your clothing choices! I mean, your fit’s really unique right now—which isn’t a bad thing! It’s a good thing, a great thing actually.” She nodded, giving me an uncomfortable smile.
What the hell was that?
But before I could say anything, the waiter returned with our food. We didn’t order much since I was pretty full and Jahnvi, not listening to my protests, said she couldn’t hold anything down. So, a naan and a paneer dish with vegetables was all that was on the table.
“Wait, wait, wait.” I stopped her before she put the ladle into the paneer. “Let me teach you something about actual good food and maybe you can pass the info along to your parents.”
She gave me a questioning glance as I brought my face closer to the naan. “Are you...smelling it?” she asked.
“Yes, I am,” I said as I wafted the steam coming off the paneer. “You can dress up food with coloring and all sorts of things to make it look good. But smell, you can’t hide. Good food will have a certain smell. Smell it for yourself.”
She smiled at me and shook her head. “I’ll take your word for it. EJ’s has great food.”
“All right, that’s it.” I put my hand on the table, not being able to take anymore, “Get better, now, please? I can’t take any more of this polite-Jahnvi thing; it’s driving me insane.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her smile faltering a little.
“Tell me my hair makes me look like Edward Cullen or, here”—I gave her my water—“drink it all and laugh at me. I know you’d like that.”
I only said it to try and make her feel better, so I expected a laugh or for her to actually chug down my water. I was trying to break the tension, to get us to talk about something stupid like we always did. But what she said next broke my heart.
She looked at the glass in her hand and back up at me. Her eyes looked hurt, and her mouth opened but for a second no sound came out. “Y-you really think that’s all I do? Get all supercompetitive and look like an idiot?”
What?
I was at a loss for words. “What are you talking about?”
She pushed her plate away and didn’t say anything, keeping her eyes trained on the empty plate in front of her.
I don’t think I’d ever seen Jahnvi completely silent.
Actually, I don’t think we’d ever truly fought.
Petty arguments and snide comments were common with us, that’s general knowledge.
But an actual argument where she was genuinely mad at me?
I didn’t know what to do.
So, I did what I already knew how to do.
I grabbed her plate from her and, placing a naan and doling out a bit of paneer on it, placed it back in front of her.
I picked up the water jug the waiter had placed in the middle of the table and refilled her water glass, taking extra precaution that not too many ice cubes plopped into her glass like I always did.
“Ms. Patel,” I said softly, stacking my hands on the table and putting my face on top of them so that she could see me even though she was still looking at the table. “If you’re dissatisfied with my service, please let me know. What can I do to make your experience better?”
She tried to keep her angry act, but a small smile betrayed her. I smiled as Jahnvi giggled softly. She finally met my eyes. “I need to speak to the manager.”
“Luckily for you, Ms. Patel,” I said, gesturing to myself, “you’re speaking to him.”
She smiled, her nose wrinkling. Taking a small bite of her food, her smile vanished immediately. “Oh, it’s bland.”
“I can tell; look at the color of the paneer. Good paneer needs to have a nice reddish color and that’s like a weird orange.”
Jahnvi chuckled. “ Food doesn’t naturally go that red even with a lot of chili powder. That’s food coloring, and food coloring doesn’t change the way food tastes.”
“Granted, but if the cook doesn’t have the food coloring, then they probably don’t have the proper spices either.”
“Maybe they just want to keep things healthy.” She shrugged, taking another bite and making a face.
“Please,” I said, waving her off. “It’s an Indian restaurant. If people wanted healthy food, they would go to a salad place or something and the cook knows that. Besides, the smell of it is also off. Smell it for yourself.”
She leaned toward her plate and gave me a look of confusion. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Oh! You’re being harsh! I mean there’s something there.
Probably the overload of turmeric. But you’re right.
They’re using frozen vegetables, so you can’t smell much.
You can easily tell too. Look at the way the carrots are perfect cubes—hey!
Now you’re distracting me by bringing up food,” I scoffed as I skewered a paneer cube from her plate with my fork.
“Distracting you from what?” Jahnvi asked me innocently.
My raised eyebrows gave her an answer. She opened her mouth to respond but quickly changed her mind.
“Um, you know what? Let’s save anything about this ,” she said pointing to me and then herself, “for after the tournament. Maybe, not right now?”
As she spoke, it was as if she also mentally withdrew from me as well as physically. True, she leaned away and set her fork down to signal that dinner was over, but her voice also got louder, and she stopped looking at me.
It left some type of bitter sting in my heart.
I get it. Priorities.
Well, fuck me for thinking things may have changed now.
After everything we’d been through, she still thought I was competing against her?
She thought of me as a task on her list?
Final at this tournament and then figure out what to do with me!
She was just brushing me away, after I let her into my restaurant—
I breathed through my nose. Speech over me, always.
I called over the waiter for our check.