Chapter 40 #2
Kissing Jassa is different. His mouth is different.
The way he moves and feels and touches her—different.
She’s only had one experience before, so—she tells herself—it’s natural to compare.
He’s far more hesitant, letting her lead although she hardly knows what she’s doing.
The scruff on his jawline startles her skin, sends unexpected sparks down her spine. And it is far too brief.
And then they’re staring at each other wide-eyed. Simran tries to evaluate the feeling of it. It was...nice. Short and sweet; exactly how most peoples’ first kisses probably are. And Rajan was right—she can kiss with her glasses on.
Her body suddenly feels terribly heavy.
Jassa retreats to an appropriate distance. She wonders if he wanted to kiss her again, and didn’t simply out of respect. Rajan never would’ve held back once they got going. Not out of a lack of respect for her—no, she was all on board—but out of a lack of respect for tradition.
God, does she ever miss disrespecting tradition with him.
“That bad, huh,” Jassa says at her silence, his mouth tilting into a self-deprecating smile.
“What? No.” Simran blinks back to reality. “I...” Her voice fades. What is she doing, toying with Jassa? She lied to him, then kissed him so she wouldn’t have to lie to him some more. “It’s nothing to do with you. I’m just...realizing I’ve got a lot going on. I’m not ready for this. Not yet.”
When her mom was sick, it felt like the clock was ticking on making a choice her mom would be happy about.
But now...the hole in her chest reminds her it will not be filled easily.
How people move on after loss, she doesn’t understand.
Right now it feels impossible. And that’s not fair to either of them.
Jassa studies her for another moment before backing away. “Okay.” He turns toward the room with the ring. Another round of cheers erupts, and he pauses. “But if you need help with any more...scavenger hunts, you know where to find me.”
And with one last knowing glance, he slips through the door, leaving her alone in the hall.
The following afternoon, Simran is rudely awoken by a pillow hitting her face.
She pushes it aside and rolls over. The pillow bounces off her back again. This time she lifts her head to squint. “Stop—” She halts when she sees the blurry outline of Kiran, and next to her, TJ.
“Get up,” Kiran says, while Simran freezes, suddenly much more awake. Why is TJ here? “We’re doing your hair.”
“I don’t need my hair done.”
“If we don’t intervene, you’re going to wake up fifteen minutes before Neetu’s party and throw on a suit. Don’t you ever get tired of being a slob?” Kiran picks something up from her desk. “What’re these?”
Simran puts her glasses on to find Kiran examining one of the USBs. Instantly, she’s on her feet to shove it in a drawer. “School project.”
“On flash drives? You’re so old-school.” Kiran grins. “Well, at least it got you up.”
Of course it did. The last thing Simran needs is her busybody sister plugging one in. Now that Simran’s up, she notes Kiran’s already fully dressed in a pink lehenga, her bangs artfully styled to frame her face. TJ’s in a tank top and jeans, arms crossed tightly, avoiding Simran’s gaze.
Kiran shoves Simran into the chair. “God, you look awful.”
Simran yawns, leaning her face into her hand and closing her eyes. Kiran flicks her cheek.
She bolts back upright. “Would you stop that?”
“Wake up.” Kiran’s voice is commanding, but there’s a hint of worry in her eyes. “One of your closest friends is engaged and you’re not even going to pretend you’re excited?”
What’s there to be excited about? Being tonight’s source of gossip after the disastrous backyard party? “Just tired. From yesterday. You’re the one who told me to go out on a Friday night.”
“Simmi, you came home at eight p.m., I know you didn’t do anything interesting.” Kiran turns to TJ. “I’m going to get her something to eat. Do her hair, don’t let her stop you.”
And then she’s gone. TJ shoves a bunch of other things off the table. “Your room is a pigsty.”
“You say that—”
“Every time, I know.” TJ starts brushing her hair robotically. Like it’s a job she just has to get through.
Simran sighs. “TJ, I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry.” TJ’s voice is tight. “That’s what you always say. It doesn’t mean anything if you’re not going to explain.”
“I understand why you’re angry,” Simran begins, but TJ slams down the hairbrush.
“Angry? I’m frustrated. Every time I see you, you’re more hollowed out on the inside. I’m watching you fade away and I don’t know why.”
Her voice cracks slightly. That shocks Simran into silence for a moment. She thought TJ was just mad. This is almost worse. “I’m doing better now. The stuff I was dealing with...it’s over, pretty much.”
“Really? Because until now, you were doing a bang-up job pretending there wasn’t any stuff you were dealing with.”
Simran chews her trembling lip. And gives up.
She can never seem to say the right thing anyway.
“It’s not my secret to tell, TJ. I understand why you can’t forgive me.
I wouldn’t either.” She brushes dust off the dresser.
“You should go before Kiran comes back. Take the makeup, too. You spent way too much on it, and I never use it.”
She keeps her gaze lowered until TJ says quietly, “See, that’s the most honest you’ve been in a long time.”
Simran raises her eyes to see TJ watching in the mirror. TJ sighs.
“But you’re wrong.”
Simran blinks. “About...?”
“I can forgive you. I do.” Simran’s heart drops. “I can’t stay mad at you. Not when I feel sad for you most of the time.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“I know. You don’t need anything, do you?” TJ smiles humourlessly. “You spend so much time on your own, I think sometimes you forget you don’t have to be.”
Simran’s chest aches, remembering her father’s fears that she would end up isolating herself. And that’s exactly what she’s done. “I don’t want to be on my own,” she whispers. Tears prick at her eyes. “That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t know how to stop.”
TJ’s eyes soften. After a moment of quiet, she picks up her curling wand. Simran thinks that’s it, the conversation is over, but then TJ abruptly says, “Kiran didn’t ask me to come, you know. I offered. I wanted to check on you before the reception.”
Simran stares at her through the mirror. “Why?”
“I heard what happened at Neetu’s.”
Ah. “What did you hear?”
“Oh, you know.” TJ’s voice lightens. “Some people think you were on drugs. Some people think you’re pregnant with Rajan Randhawa’s baby, which is why you threw up.
And then there’s the one where you’ve been partying a lot this year, which is why you didn’t win some academic award.
In other words, Simran, the usual whack rumours people always make up. ”
Simran releases a relieved breath. Not only because TJ’s taking it as typical gossip, but because she’s teasing her again. Simran doesn’t know why, or how long it’ll last with everything still left unsaid, but she’s grateful. “I was sick and having a rough day. I said some things I shouldn’t have.”
“Like roasting an uncle for talking shit about your Hillway people?” When Simran grimaces, TJ claps her hands in glee. “So it’s true? Why’re you embarrassed? That’s metal.”
“Well, TJ, I’m not you. I don’t enjoy making a scene.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
TJ’s affronted voice almost—almost—brings a smile to Simran’s face. “Isn’t it getting late? Shouldn’t you go home and get ready?”
TJ begins clipping up sections of Simran’s hair. “I’ve got lots of time. Charlie’s going to come over and curl my hair for me while I do my makeup.”
“Oh.” Must be nice to be able to get ready for a party with her boyfriend.
Simran pushes down her jealousy as TJ starts curling, though.
That’s not fair. Simran’s truly glad she’s happy with Charlie.
He’s a great, trustworthy guy. Just the fact that he defended Rajan that day at TJ’s makes her trust him even more.
Simran sits up straighter, struck with an idea. “TJ,” she says, “is Charlie coming to the reception?”
TJ pauses with a section of her hair in hand. “I mean, secret’s out, so he was going to be my plus-one...Why? You think I shouldn’t?” She sounds uncertain, and it occurs to Simran that the whispers about her have bothered TJ more than she lets on.
Simran settles into her chair. “You absolutely should bring him. Give them something real to gossip about.”
TJ’s smile returns full force. “Now you’re talking.” As she gets back to work, Simran glances at the drawer holding her USBs. She now knows exactly what to do with them.