Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
PRODIGY
S hahid suggests heading outside the office for lunch, so we grab our lunch packs and head out into the city. We only have a short time for lunch so we decide not to stray too far, finding ourselves settling into a small set of benches on the High Line, the Vessel just within sight. People walk past us, and mill around the Vessel, marveling at its strange geometry. It’s really peaceful, actually, despite all the people and noise. Plus, there’s always something to be said for just, like, being in the presence of green .
Nature being around me always manages to soothe me and calm me down, I don’t really know why. Maybe it’s some base human instinct, an unspoken desire to return to nature from the hustle and bustle of our concrete lives.
We sit on a bench, and share an awkward smile before we focus on our lunches. Immediately I’m embarrassed. Shahid has this three layered, tin tiffin construction, and as he opens each layer, I get a waft of spice and warming aromas that instantly has me salivating. Meanwhile, I’m here with my paper bag and a hastily slapped together salami sandwich using the last of the cuts we had in the fridge.
“That looks amazing, Shahid! Did you make it yourself?” I say, barely able to conceal my hungry eyes.
“Yes, actually. All using family recipes, my mother passed them down to me. I think she was always a little upset she didn’t have any girls, but when I came out to her, she must have thought I was the next best thing.”
“You’re gay?” I don’t mean to sound surprised, I hope he doesn’t think I’m making assumptions based on his culture, I just really didn’t realize we had that in common. And then I remember what he said at the office before we left for lunch. ‘ It’s a date ’. Is it?
“Yes. Sorry, I thought you knew,” he laughs, gently, lifting a skewer filled with spiced chunks of chicken and some kind of cheese. He hands it to me. “Here. I’m not my mother, but I think I can make a good chicken and paneer tikka, at least.”
I try to wave away his offered snack, but he insists. Relenting, I take it and take a tentative bite. My mouth fills with saliva as the flavor hits my tongue. I’ve not had anything quite like this before, and I feel like a whole new world of culinary delights is opening for me that I am eager to explore.
“Oh my god, Shahid, this is amazing. I’ve never had anything like this!”
He laughs. “You’ve never had Indian food?”
I blush, realizing how sheltered this makes me sound. “I mean, I’ve had a few curries in my time. I think they were all Indian? Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I must sound really ignorant.”
Shahid smiles. “Not at all. It’s more common than you might think. But I love when people learn about the flavors my culture has to offer,” he faces his tiffin trays, but his eyes slide back to me beside him. “Perhaps…perhaps I could take you some place to try some more sometime?”
My cheeks suddenly feel as warm as my mouth is, and I laugh nervously, rubbing my neck. “I…I think I’d like that.”
Shahid faces me again, smiling. He pulls out a small ball of brownish looking strands tightly coiled on itself, offering it to me again to go with my sandwich and kebab. A bhaji. It smells amazing.
As we finish up our meals and set our carry cases (or, well, paper bag) aside for a moment before we think about heading back to the office, we just watch the people going by for a moment, the breeze flowing over us, and listen to birds in the trees.
Our hands rest on the bench as we let the world wash over us, and I’m acutely aware of his pinkie finger fractions of a millimeter away from mine. Barely touching, and yet I can sense the warmth of his presence next to me.
“Jesse,” Shahid says, breaking the silence. “Why are you so concerned about making a good impression in editorial?”
“Um, how do you mean?” I say, tilting my head.
“If I remember correctly, you’re a comic writer too, yes?” I nod. “And that is still something you’re pursuing, yes?” Again, I nod. “You know that there is a rule against editors writing at Excelsior. It’s a conflict of interest. I’m guessing that as well as your own independent works, you would be wanting to work with Excelsior too?”
“I mean, yeah. I guess I primarily started the editorial internship to get a feeling for how editorial works in a comics publisher and get a feel for that aspect. But I figured it would help me with my own comics, and you know, maybe I’d get an idea of how to break in as a creator at Excelsior too. The comics we make there mean a lot to me, and I’d love to write for them some day.”
Shahid turns to face me.
“So why do you want to make an impression as an editor so badly? If you got hired, you would be closing that door to yourself as a creator for however long you’re working at Excelsior. Plus, you seem to be struggling with juggling your creative aspirations too, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Ouch,” I say, though laughingly so he knows I don’t take offense. “Yeah, you’re kinda right. But I dunno. I guess I still feel like there’s a lot to learn, and maybe it will help?”
“In my experience, nothing helps more than doing. That’s why I took an admin internship at one of the biggest publishing entities in the city, with increasing connections to Hollywood and beyond,” Shahid takes my hand in his. “But that isn’t my dream. I am not really much for the entertainment industry, but the challenges of it make for tremendous learning and will be a highlight to my resume.
“And for you, it will do the same - if you continue with an editorial path. You’re right, learning the behind the scenes will be helpful, and the contacts made too, but the only thing that will really help your dream is to, well, do your dream , Jesse.”
I look Shahid in the eyes, slightly agape at the forthright, brutal honesty from him. It hurts slightly but I can’t help but see the rightness in it too.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to overstep, but you helped me once and I would like to return the favor.” Shahid lets my hand go, his own rising to brush his hair back as he suddenly looks sheepish. “I shouldn’t have said?—”
I cut him off by catching his lips with mine in a gentle, quick kiss.
“No, no,” I look him in the eye, our faces just inches apart. “I appreciate it. I really do. I think you’re right and I have a lot to think about. But after NYCC now. I can’t ditch out on Anna like that right now.”
Shahid laughs, “I didn’t mean you should quit right now.” I start laughing with him.
As our laughter quiets down, I start feeling a twisty feeling in my stomach. “I’m sorry I just kinda leapt right in there then, I just wanted you to know I liked what you wanted to do for me.”
Shahid leans in, and our lips brush together again. “It’s okay. I liked it too.
“Come on, we should head back to the office. I’ll text you about maybe me taking you out to dinner sometime, if that’s okay?”
“Sure! Sure. Maybe after the con now, but I would definitely like that.”
As we walk back to the office, we talk about work and make small talk, both of us I think a little nervous about the surprising romantic turn on our lunch break.
I think a lot about what that could mean. Could me and Shahid work as a couple, both working at the same company could be weird after all. Though we’re in different offices, different paths. And maybe I need someone like him, someone who can keep me grounded and centered, someone to call me out on my shit when I need it.
But we’re only just getting to know each other, and my brain turns to darker thoughts. Wondering if that’s fair to put on him. Is he really willing to take on such a big mess as me? Especially when he finds out how much of a mess I have made of things?