His Karma – By Khushi T. Saha #5
On the other hand, he’d been taught to love the water before he could walk.
His mother took him to the beach on the Stavros family estate.
He remembered gathering seashells and playing in the sand; both parents always coaxing him into the water.
He learned to swim in no time and to surf soon after.
He loved it. Sometimes he felt the ocean was more a part of him than dry land.
But Kareena’s experience sucked—any person, let alone a small kid, would be traumatized. He cupped her face.
“Hey. You can’t let things scare you. You gotta grab life by the balls, you know?”
“Thanks, Dr. Phil. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have any balls to grab.” She waved her hands frantically as her face reddened.
He'd witnessed just how scared she was that morning when their class went out to the Santa Monica pier for whale-watching. She’d stood frozen on the dock, not able to set foot onto the plank to the boat.
When they realized no amount of coaxing would get her on the boat, he, and a few of her other friends (Sheila and some student council buddies), decided to forego whale watching and hang with her on the pier.
It hadn’t been all bad. The arcade and rides turned out to be fun, and he’d even bought her a small stuffed dog to cheer her up.
Plus, he and Kareena rode the Pacific Ferris Wheel and huddled together in their car.
When they got to the top, they sat taking in the panoramic view of Santa Monica—a live painting of bright greens and somber tans, with the vast blue ocean surrounding them and black mountains as the backdrop.
It was exhilarating. It’s also where she’d hugged the stuffed dog and leaned over, pressing her warm lips to his cheek, surprising him.
He thought that was his chance to finally kiss her for real, but their classmates in the car above hooted at them.
He’d lost his moment when she pulled away shyly.
“Kareena,” he said now, watching the shadows move across her face as sunlight finally broke through the purple sky. “I’m serious.”
“Me too. I don’t ever intend to step foot in the water. I’ll just live somewhere landlocked.” She shrugged.
He leaned back onto the lounger taking her with him. She gasped, and he felt her body slowly relax into his, something he was getting used to. She’d already told him she’d never had a boyfriend or even a close guy friend.
He whispered in her ear, “I hear Kansas isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
She snorted—a funny sound that came from the depths of her belly and was such a contrast to her usual politeness.
“Plus, it’ll suck when you come visit me in Greece.”
She didn’t make a sound at that statement.
Finally, she murmured, “I think you’re confusing me with another Indian girl whose parents will let her out of their sight.”
“You’re here now.”
She sucked her teeth. “Please. This is a school trip—did you count how many adult chaperones there are? There’s like one for every senior.”
True. But it seemed the parent chaperones only wanted an excuse to come to LA because all they expected were a few check-ins during the day. They were pretty damn trusting and lenient. Case in point—their successful sneak out last night.
“Well, you’re going to Columbia in the fall.”
“That’s only a train ride from Connecticut, and my dad went there. It’s only logical I go there, too. My parents have been prepping mentally for it for, like, ever.”
“Wait. You want to go there, right? You worked your butt off to get in.”
“Right,” she said quietly. “It was my first choice. Abba went there for medical school, and it made me want to go there, too. It’s one of the top medical education institutes in the world.”
He groaned.
“What?” she asked, sitting up and turning to look at him with a frown.
“Nothing.”
Something niggled at him. Something that had been bugging him since they’d started hanging out together. He blurted it out before he could think about the consequences.
“So, when are you telling your parents about us? Because I’m pretty sure they haven’t been prepping for me.”
Her eyes widened. She pulled her hair over her shoulder, pushing her fingers through the tangles, tugging in annoyance. She never had tangles. But last night’s surprise sneak-out was hurried and unplanned. She forgot to throw a brush in her purse.
But he was kind of right. Her parents had no clue she was seeing him. They knew Ms. Lutz, his Algebra teacher, had approached her to tutor him. He needed a C average to stay on the swim team. But that was it.
They didn’t know that other than spending time with him after school and working on algebraic formulas, they were working on chemistry, too. Their chemistry.
What did her parents know of Zayn’s struggles? Nothing. There was a reason Ms. Lutz approached her to tutor him. She’d been hesitant, not because she didn’t want to help, but because she was afraid that spending too much time with him would make her do something she wasn’t supposed to.
But Ms. Lutz said that Zayn had asked that she tutor him. They were already friends. After speaking to her about it briefly at school, the teacher called her parents to ask their permission, wanting to make sure it was ok for Kareena to work with a classmate who needed it.
“He needs a solid hand to guide him in his studies. Shona (nickname meaning golden), you’ll be helping him,” her father had said confidently, nodding. “I’ll speak to his father. I’m sure they’ll think it’s a good idea, too.”
They did. The first time she’d gone over to their house—more like a colossal Greek mausoleum on the edge of town—they met her with warmth and excitement.
“We’re so happy you’re helping Zayn, Kareena,” Zayn’s mom had said. She led Kareena to the living room with a massive flat-screen TV on one wall and tan leather sofas and armchairs positioned comfortably around the room.
“Well, I’m happy to help,” she’d said enthusiastically, though she wondered what everyone would’ve done if she’d said ‘no.’
Zayn had come in with a heaping tray of snacks and that warm grin on his face. He looked too good for math tutoring in a fitted henley and jeans. But she shook herself, needing to focus.
“How else would I get to spend more time with you?” he teased, and his mother smacked his arm lightly.
Kareena blushed as she approached the coffee table and set her bag down. She ignored that comment, though she grinned from ear to ear.
“What’s all this?” she said, looking over the assortment of snacks. Shiny, puffed-up phyllo dough pastries topped with sesame seeds, mini pizzas with curried eggplant, sushi hand rolls, and other delectables stared back at her. Her empty stomach grumbled.
“Snacks for sustenance,” his mom said. “If you don’t like anything, please feel free to raid the kitchen. These are all of Zayn’s concoctions. Some of them are … interesting.”
She left and Kareena stood confused.
“You made all this?”
Zayn pushed his hair off his forehead. “I did. I like to mess around in the kitchen.”
It sure didn’t look like ‘messing’ around. The food smelled and looked tasty.
“Long story short—my mom made me help our home cook back in Greece for an entire summer as punishment for sneaking out. Joke’s on her. I had a blast with it.”
Zayn was full of surprises, and good grief could he be more likable? A hot guy who could cook? Yes, please.
After only a few tutoring sessions, Kareena realized that Zayn also had a dark side to him, too; one that made him harsh on himself.
They were reviewing quadratic equations one afternoon.
She’d finished describing three possible ways to solve a problem when he’d suddenly thrown his hands up.
He got up from where they sat at the coffee table, his face contorted into a dark scowl, reminding her of the first time they laid eyes on each other last summer.
He paced in front of the window; his energy almost visibly seething off him.
“What’s wrong?” she’d asked. “Come back. We can figure this out together?—”
He’d run his hands through his hair, and tugged at it, making it stand up on end.
“No.” His deep voice came out in a harsh growl.
But Kareena wasn’t afraid. He might be having a tantrum because his brain couldn’t grasp the concept, but he needed understanding, not judgment. Ms. Lutz had warned her that he got frustrated easily.
“Z, this isn’t that difficult. Let’s break it down.”
“Math comes easy for you, Karma. Everything does.” He traced the window pane with his fingers, looking outside to the pool. “I think I need a swim. How about you come with?” He turned around, and easy Zayn was back with his wide smile and warm cinnamon eyes.
Kareena blinked, trying to keep up with his changing emotions.
She got up and stood next to him.
She took a deep breath and blurted out, “I can’t swim.”
And that’s when she told him, to his shocked countenance, that her first memory of swimming had been terrifying.
At three years old, her teacher threw her into the pool with only flimsy floaties on.
She didn’t mention the water going up her nose and stinging her eyes and throat.
She didn’t have to because he did it for her, indignantly,
“That’s fucked up, Kareena! Man, what a bunch of dipshits. You could have sued, you know.” She’d laughed at that and nodded. “Wait, so you can’t swim, or you don’t want to learn?”
“Both. I have this fear I can’t get over.
” She crossed her arms over her chest. “So no, Z, not everything is easy for me.” She turned to him, to see his reaction, and his face had softened.
He reached over and pulled her into him, engulfing her in a hug.
She went. He was a pull she couldn’t resist. He was solid and smelled great.
Her chest seeped with something warm and lovely.
“I’m sorry.” He blew out a breath, tickling the top of her head. After a few minutes, he said, “Okay. Let’s do this. Quadratic equations won’t defeat me. And one day, swimming won’t defeat you.”