Chapter 27
SIMRAN’S NIGHT AT Rajan’s is strangely revitalizing.
When she gets home, she sends an apology text to Neetu and an email to Paul promising to make up for her absenteeism.
And the next day, she visits her mother—who’s thankfully doing much better.
So much better, in fact, that a few days later Simran and her father come to take her home from the hospital.
Simran can’t help but notice, as they’re being given discharge instructions, that her mom has lost weight. Her head lolls as if keeping her neck upright is too much effort. She’s in a wheelchair, out of precaution, they explain, just to get her to the car. Because she’s weak.
The doctor adds, “And as for the cancer, your oncologist will call with the...staging results.” He sounds a little apologetic at the end.
Once, these words would have sent Simran into a spiral. Now, she hardly feels anything. She may as well assume this nightmare will continue forever.
“When?” her mom asks quietly.
“Soon,” the doctor says gently. “In the meantime, maybe focus on some hobbies. It might be a good distraction from all this.”
Simran’s mother stares. At first, Simran doesn’t think she’s going to respond, but then she says, “Hobbies?”
She sounds rather lost.
“Yes, hobbies,” the doctor replies, oblivious. “Things you enjoy doing. What are yours?”
“I don’t have any.”
He pats her shoulder. “Well, the local cancer center has lots of activity groups. Maybe find one you like?”
Once he leaves, Simran steps in. “You have hobbies, Mom. You like reading cooking magazines. And biking in the summers.”
Her mother gives her a blank look as they enter the elevator. “I bike for exercise. I cook to make good food for you.”
She turns back to the front, and Simran sighs, punching the down button. Her uber-practical mother cannot fathom doing things simply for her own enjoyment. Even if Simran suspects she does enjoy them.
When the elevator doors ding open on the main floor, Simran pushes off the wall. But just then, Rupi Auntie walks by.
Simran flings her hand out in front of the wheelchair.
Her father gives her an odd look, but it’s enough for Rupi Auntie to move on without seeing them.
Close call. Simran peeks into the hallway, watching Rupi Auntie’s back retreat.
She must be visiting someone here, but, god, what a reminder that they’ve been lucky so far.
And they only have to be lucky a little longer: through a long, winding hall to the atrium and exit.
Simran glances at her mom, who meets her eyes, even paler now. She clearly saw Rupi Auntie, too.
In unspoken agreement, Simran walks out of the elevator first, leading them cautiously.
Her father pushes the wheelchair. She peeks around corners before they turn them, scoping out each room they walk by.
As they near the exit doors, Simran picks up the pace.
She can see the outdoors from this hallway. She steps into the atrium.
And runs directly into someone coming from the coffee shop.
“Simran!” TJ exclaims. “What are you doing here?”
Simran doesn’t dare look back. Her mom will be wheeled out from behind her in a few seconds. She darts around TJ, circling her, forcing TJ to turn, too.
She does, laughing. “What’re you doing?”
With TJ safely facing the opposite direction, Simran keeps one eye on the atrium entrance. “Volunteering. Let’s talk somewhere quieter.” She gestures to the chairs safely across the atrium.
TJ doesn’t move. “Is there anywhere you don’t volunteer? I’m only here because my mom got called to the hospital while we were shopping. She said it’d be quick.” She rolls her eyes. “Thank god you’re here. You’ve been avoiding me as usual, and I seriously need a ride.”
Above TJ’s shoulder, Simran’s father finally wheels her mom into the atrium. They look at her. Simran jerks her head in a just go motion. It’s as subtle as she can make it, but TJ starts turning. “What’re you—”
Simran grabs her arm and wrenches her back. “You’ll never guess what happened.”
It works. TJ turns back, eyes bright with interest. “What? What happened?”
Yeah, Simran, what happened? She blurts the first thing that comes to mind: “Rajan’s my new Hillway mentee.”
“What?” TJ shrieks, loud enough to draw stares. Simran’s mom is almost out the door. “Why didn’t you say anything at dinner?”
“Just happened,” she lies. Clearly Chandani hasn’t told her that part. “Funny, isn’t it?”
“Funny? No!” TJ looks upset. “This is worse than that girl who punched you. You have to be careful with him! Chandani told me how creepy he was with you—”
Simran already regrets this. “He wasn’t. He was his normal self.”
“Which is creepy.”
By now, Simran’s parents have left the building. Time to make her exit. “Well, see you later...”
She tries to turn, but TJ catches up. “You can’t drop bombs and just leave! Besides, I still need a ride.”
“Can’t you wait for your mom?”
It comes out more callous than intended. A flash of hurt goes over TJ’s face. “Did I...do something wrong? The way you left dinner the other day...”
Simran’s heart splinters even as she tries to plot her way out of this. “I’m sorry about that. I’m a marker for a professor’s summer classes, and I remembered I had exams to mark due that night. I panicked.”
TJ’s eyebrows rise skeptically. Simran doesn’t have time to reinforce her lie because just then, the doctor who discharged them gets off an elevator at the other end of the atrium. He spots her and begins heading her way, waving a paper. Did they forget something?
Simran focuses back on TJ. Thirty seconds before she’s exposed. “I’ll come back and pick you up. I just have to go right now.”
She’s sidestepping her when TJ’s voice sounds again, very small. “Why does it feel like you won’t come back?”
“I will, okay?” Some part of Simran recognizes TJ absolutely has the right to feel this way, but she’s so tired of tiptoeing around everyone’s feelings. The doctor has almost reached them.
“But—”
Simran whips around. “Leave me alone! Can you do that for one second?”
Her voice echoes. The doctor pauses in his steps, and TJ’s eyes widen. Simran braces for the blow-up, the Fine! See if I ever talk to you again! Her fiery cousin has snapped over less.
But instead, TJ backs away. “Okay.” Her voice is soft, and that’s worse. Simran closes her eyes momentarily, trying to scrape together an ounce of compassion. But there’s nothing left.
So she leaves TJ standing there.
The doctor catches up to her. “Glad I found you. We forgot your mother’s prescriptions—”
“Great.” Simran takes the paper without looking. She doesn’t slow, and the doctor falls back. Simran ignores the greeter bidding her goodbye and heads outside.
Her parents are waiting in Simran’s truck. As Simran climbs into the driver’s seat, her dad asks gently, “Everything okay? We saw you talking to TJ.”
“She wasn’t asking about me, was she?” her mom says.
Simran savagely turns the ignition. The engine sputters to life. “No, Mom. I didn’t give up your precious little secret, okay?”
A shocked silence settles over the vehicle. Simran never talks to them like that. But, she doesn’t care. She keeps seeing TJ’s hurt expression.
Last year, in high school, they’d made a pact to stay in each other’s lives, even if their moms refused to.
Yet another promise Simran has been unable to keep.
It’s so frustrating. What’s even the point of having friends who don’t know her secrets?
All she’s doing is hurting them. It would be kinder to leave them alone.
It occurs to her, backing out of her parking space, that maybe she should do exactly that—cut them all off. TJ, Neetu, Jassa, all her other friends. Just until she’s done with the Lions. Yes. That will make her life simpler. Simran doesn’t have the strength to lead a double life anymore.
If only she were more like her mom. Her mom handled so much more at Simran’s age. If Simran had her strength, maybe she wouldn’t be falling apart at the seams, losing pieces of herself she took pride in, becoming bitter, pushing away people she loves just to function...
Oh.
A realization that has taken her entire life slides quietly into place.
“Sher putt,” her dad says timidly as Simran pulls out of the lot, “are you okay?”
A hysterical laugh escapes her. “I’m great,” she says. “I’m great.”