His Karma – By Khushi T. Saha #4
Kareena considered this. She preferred that her parents did that.
Then she didn’t have to think about anything else but her studies and getting into Columbia University.
They wouldn’t even let her get a part-time job until recently after she pleaded and begged to work at the veterinarian’s office downtown.
It was ultra-part-time on the weekends, but she loved animals, and her parents refused to get pets.
She cleared her throat. “Well, it’s not all bad. Greenwich Prep, I mean.” She laughed a little. “We have a great debate team. I’m on the tennis team. I’m not that good at it, but the team as a whole is strong. And the academics are outstanding.”
“Sounds like a blast,” he said flatly, chucking a shell out into the surf. “Since everyone knows my business already, you know I’m redoing my 12 th year. I’ll be the oldest senior there.”
Kareena sat silently. She hadn’t known about that. Did being a year older than the rest of the boys in her class warrant such hotness—holy crap, she was turning into Rekha.
She tried to wrap her head around what he’d just told her. She’d never met anyone who’d flunked school before.
“Well, um … I could help you with your studies … you know … if you need anything.” What was she doing? Her year was already super busy, and she was insinuating that he needed help with school. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say you needed it, but?—”
“No. That’d be cool,” he said softly. “Are you a good student?”
Whew! She hadn’t stuck her foot in her mouth.
“Um, I’m pretty good, yeah.” No need to tell him she was at the top of her class—well, second to the top (she couldn’t seem to surpass Sheila, though she tried).
“And,” she continued, “you’re one of the first to know this—the student council convinced the teachers and parents to go to LA for our senior class trip.
It’s going to be awesome,” she said with hopeful excitement.
For some reason, she wanted Zayn to like her.
“Are you on the student council, too?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting. Was he making fun of her? “That’s pretty awesome, actually.” He glanced back at her over his bronzed shoulder, with mischievous eyes. Was he talking about student council or LA? “Are you going?”
Giggles bubbled up inside her like soda after sipping too quickly. This was all unfamiliar to her. She wasn’t giggly. She was serious. “No Drama Sharma” was the appropriate nickname for her, given to her in middle school. It beat “Teacher’s Pet.”
“To LA? Duh. Everyone’s going.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Have you been?” Her heart beat double time at the easy smile returning to his handsome face. “If you have, you could help us plan where to go; you know, cool places for teens to check out.”
His auburn brows wriggled. “I’ve been a bunch of times. But it’d be cool to hang with a cool girl there. And I could tell you about some great spots to visit. Let’s see, there’s Griffith Park Observatory … oh, and Duke’s up in Malibu has a bomb beach café…”
But she’d stopped listening after his “cool girl” comment. Was he talking about her? Would he be disappointed when school started and he learned she was studious and nerdy?
He’d stopped talking and was looking out to the surf. She looked too, noticing the sails bobbing in the distance, resembling toy boats.
“What about sports, like sailing or swimming?” he asked, picking up a stick and carving circles in the sand. “Studies aren’t my thing.”
She tried to keep up with his change of topic, as she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.
So, he wasn’t into grades, college, or anything that affected a successful career one day.
She glanced at him sideways thoughtfully.
Well … so what? She was drawn to him, nonetheless.
Maybe because her father specifically told her that morning that he knew his dad, and she should try to make him feel welcome.
He knew no one at their school and would be starting fresh.
She thought about his question. “Well, I already mentioned tennis. But our swim team is one of the best in the state. We’re supposed to go to regionals this year.”
“I’m an awesome swimmer. That might make things look up for me this year.”
Wow. Confidence rolled off of him. He assumed he’d make the swim team, which wasn’t an easy get. And now she knew she was drawn to him for another reason. He was cool. Probably too cool for her.
She shook herself. Did she think she had a shot at … anything with this boy? If he was as good as he said, he’d end up hanging with the jocks (aka the “jerks”). They’d be in completely different social circles.
His wide shoulders shrugged, and he looked back at her, that smile stretching across his face. And wow, were those two identical dimples resting deeply on each cheek?
“Hey, Z, you comin’ or what?” someone called from the game.
Zayn rolled his eyes. “I gotta go. They’re pretty bad.”
They looked over at the teens horsing around by the volleyball net.
“Yeah,” she said lightly, a little disappointed their conversation was ending. She had a feeling that, come fall, he’d figure out the social situation at their school.
He stood up, smiling down at her, as he brushed sand from his shorts. “Well, Karma, I think it was karmic that we met.”
He winked and jogged back to the volleyball game.
PRESENT DAY
LOS ANGELES
SENIOR CLASS TRIP
They were currently the only ones out by the pool, still excited after last night’s events. A group of them managed to sneak out to Barney’s Beanery (the West Hollywood location where Zayn knew the bouncers barely glanced at fake IDs).
Convincing Kareena to sneak out hadn’t been that hard. Her initial wariness wore off when she inspected the fake ID procured for her and her friends (he knew a guy). And when the plan was in motion, her eyes sparkled with excitement.
She wore an outfit she got at some Kardashian store on Melrose.
He’d never seen her in something so form-fitting.
She looked great— hot. The other guys from school noticed, too.
When she’d left for the bathroom with her girlfriends at the Beanery, Charlie, one of the guys on his swim team asked Zayn if he was going to “tap that” later.
It took everything in him not to chuck his beer into the guy’s face. Nobody knew he and Kareena were seeing each other. But people were starting to notice something was up on the class trip.
“It’s not like that,” Zayn had said, watching Kareena and her friends shimmying to Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back” on the tiny dance floor.
“What’s it like then? A bunch of us want to know what’s up with you two…”
“We like each other. We’re hangin'.”
Charlie nodded. “Awesome sauce.”
And that was all it took for the other students to back off and let them do their thing.
Even Kareena’s nosy friends hadn’t interfered, only teasing them when they lagged behind the rest of the seniors while checking out the Central Library’s historically preserved Art Deco architecture during a downtown LA excursion.
Kareena sighed noisily into his shirt bringing him back to the moment. She pressed herself into him, and he tightened his hold around her.
“It’s cold,” she said softly, peering up at him with sleepy eyes and a lazy grin. Her makeup, stuff she didn’t normally wear, had smeared. The metallic gold and black made her eyes look even larger and mysterious in the dark.
“Do you want to go inside?”
He hoped she’d say no. He liked having her to himself.
She was always busy with student council, studies, and tennis.
He was the all-star swimmer on the school’s varsity swim team.
Coach pushed him to practice in the water before school and run laps after, telling him he could be even better—an Olympic athlete if he took it seriously enough to want that glory.
He didn’t. He hated being pushed. He liked to do things on his own terms and timeline.
Which was very different to Kareena, and yet, he liked her anyway.
Her serene sense of self-confidence and her methodical way of planning and doing things made him calmer—more centered. He felt less … scatterbrained.
“LA can’t make up her mind—warm days, and chilly nights. But we love her.”
He got up, grabbed a folded towel from the towel cart, and draped it over her shoulders.
She snuggled under and watched him as he pulled a cigarette from the crumpled carton in his pocket.
“Is that good for swimming, Z?” she asked, though there wasn’t a hint of judgment in her tone.
He inhaled, exhaling the smoke in a plume of white. It disappeared into the shadowed palms above them.
“Nah. But what Coach doesn’t know, can’t hurt him.”
He flicked the ash onto the concrete.
“Can I try?” she asked, continuing to watch his movements closely.
Something tightened uncomfortably in his chest, and he looked down at her curiously. Her brown legs looked longer than usual in her tiny denim skirt. It was short. Even her tennis skirts were longer.
He shrugged, still not sure. He didn’t want to lead her down the wrong path. She was too good. “You sure?”
She nodded, extending her hand to take the burning cigarette.
“I don’t know…”
“Come on,” she whined.
Then an idea came to him. “How about this—you can try it if you let me teach you how to swim?”
Her arm dropped and her expression soured.
“Boo,” she muttered.
He chuckled. She was so cute when she was mad and her face puckered up like that.
“Come on, Karma. Swimming is a life skill. Everyone should know how to do it. Fuck, you could even learn doggy paddling. That’s better than nothing.”
“Says the merman who was never thrown into a pool with just floaties on to literally sink or swim.” She reminded him, having already told him her traumatic story before.