Six
Summer
Me: I’ll call you and Papi later. River and I have that cooking class.
Dad: Try not to burn the kitchen down this time.
Me: Ha ha ha very funny
I’ll be the first to admit that River is a highly creative person. He’s always sketching and painting. And despite him being colorblind, the way he uses whites, blacks, and grays—you’d forget that there was no color at all. Although nowadays he rarely shows me what he’s working on.
But as talented as River is, cooking is not one of his strong suits.
“You’re doing a great job at massaging that chicken,” River says in feign sincerity, and I try to hold back my laughter long enough to respond.
“Why, thank you but I must say, the way you pull those aromas from those spices is like no other.”
We both fall into a fit of laughter. At this point, we’re not even trying to keep our amusement contained.
When River said that this was a date night cooking class for couples, I figured we’d get all the ingredients we needed and just follow along with the instructor, but the people who are teaching the class happen to be married. And they strongly believe in words of affirmation.
Their whole motto has been, “If your partner does something good, let them know.”
River and I have just kind of rolled with it. So much so that I wouldn’t be surprised if we were beginning to annoy the other four couples in this kitchen, but I can’t bring myself to care all that much. Not when this is the most normal River and I have felt in months.
I continue massaging our cut-up chicken into our Greek yogurt concoction as River mixes the butter and seasonings into the pot for our buttered chicken.
He looks around the kitchen and winces after sniffing the air. Leaning over, he lowers his voice to a whisper. “I think I burned our butter.”
I sniff the air as well, already knowing the answer to this “mystery,” but trying to be optimistic—that maybe it’s someone else’s dish—I look over anyway to see that our butter is indeed burning.
Maisie, one of our instructors, had specifically said to make sure that this didn’t happen.
She suggested that it shouldn’t even be golden brown.
“It’ll be fine, right?” River asks.
I don’t bother to sugarcoat it. “Considering this is butter chicken and our butter is burned…no.”
River sighs, looking down at his disappointment of a creation.
“So…start over?” River whispers and as if almost out of nowhere, Orion—Maisie’s husband—appears.
“Hey, guys.” Orion stands right behind both River and me. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, staring directly at the contents in our pot.
River decides to continue to stir as if nothing is wrong instead of admitting his defeat. Actually, that in turn would mean my defeat so…he can keep stirring that burned butter all night if he has to.
“We might wanna turn that heat down a bit.” Orion frames his words as a suggestion.
“Oh, no.” River shakes his head. “We like ours a little charred.”
Orion turns his head to look at me. “I’ve been to India quite a few times but I wasn’t aware that this was a preference.”
I shrug. I don’t know why he thought River and I would be the reigning couple for today.
Well, okay I know why but I’ll be the first to admit that even though I’m Indian, I don’t know how to properly prepare buttered chicken.
If it doesn’t involve me throwing chicken, broccoli, and potatoes onto a sheet pan and shoving it in the oven, then I’m basically shit out of luck.
I stop my massaging of our chicken and turn my attention to Orion. “Well I’m proud of him for trying.”
Orion sighs and nods his head. He’s quiet for a moment and I’m wondering if he’s trying to find a way to let us down easily, or if he’s beginning to regret telling all the couples that we should be telling our partners we’re proud of them.
“Once you’ve mastered something, then you can break the rules,” Orion begins. “But for now? Let’s master it and start over, shall we?”
River salutes. “Yes, sir. I won’t let you down.”
Almost as if he’s given up for now, Orion pats both of our shoulders and walks away to help out another couple—duo. I mean duo.
Orion goes over to Alyssa and Chad, who are doing way better than anyone here. I’m convinced that they’re culinary geniuses who decided to take a class just to watch us mediocre people suffer.
I carefully peel off my gloves and throw them away in a nearby trash can. One of the other girls, Bianca, is watching River and me with a gentle smile
“How long have you two been together?” she asks.
At the exact same time, River and I both say, “A few hours.”
My head snaps toward him to see he’s already looking at me. We laugh.
Bianca also chuckles and I look back at her, lowering my voice. “Don’t tell Maisie or Orion but we’re not actually a couple. He’s just my best friend who booked a couples cooking class because apparently he doesn’t know how to read the fine print.”
Bianca laughs but her attention is on making her own butter sauce. “The fine print? I’m the one that booked it for me and my boyfriend and the website made it very clear that this was for couples.”
Huh. Interesting.
I look over my shoulder at River, who is either focused on not burning the butter this time or pretending not to listen to our conversation.
Before I can bring myself to question him, I turn back to Bianca, leaning my hip against the steel countertop.
“So, how long have you and your boyfriend been together?” I gesture toward where Bianca’s boyfriend—Max, I believe his name is—is having a serious discussion with Maisie about… oil, I think?
Bianca watches the encounter and rolls her eyes affectionally. “Two years,” she says. “I thought this would be romantic but I sometimes forget how passionate he is about everything.”
Her pot is forgotten about for a moment as she watches Max with admiration. Like the way he moves his hands to get his point across is amusing to her. Bianca’s entire face softens as she watches Max for a moment longer.
I take a quick glance over at River. He doesn’t say anything as he focuses on dumping the chicken into the pot. As if he can feel my attention on him, River looks up and our eyes lock. He gently smiles.
My entire body seems to ignite. It always does whenever River is around but when he smiles at me? That’s a whole other unworldly marvel.
River playfully gestures toward Bianca, who is trying not to pay attention to my blatant staring but fails.
I clear my throat. “How’d you and Max meet?”
Bianca lights up. “He actually would come into a pet store I used to work at. His way of breaking the ice was asking me about dog shampoo.”
Not the meet cute I was expecting but I remain quiet to let her continue.
“After he came in asking about different things like crickets or hay, I asked him how many animals he had. He eventually came clean and told me he didn’t have a single one.
He only ended up there in the first place because his friend’s dog needed tick medicine.
Like I said.” Bianca smiles. “He’s passionate. ”
And just like that, they’re here in this class. There are all these moments in between them meeting and now. Moments that I don’t know Bianca well enough to ask but can only imagine led them here.
“So…” Bianca lowers her voice. “I know you said you guys aren’t dating—” She steals a glance at River. “But you guys seem pretty close, when did you two meet?”
“Oh.” I smile, not expecting to be excited to share that information. Is that how she felt when I asked? Although I don’t have as much of a story as her. I don’t even remember most of it.
“We met in the fifth grade. River had just moved from Korea and I guess I kind of just made it my mission to deter any assholes from picking on him. After I called him out for having a staring problem.” I can’t help but laugh at the memory.
“Alright, our lovely couples!” Maisie calls out to us. “Let’s move onto the next step.”
I step away from Bianca as Max walks back to her side, and River and I begin to pay close attention.
Well, we try to but River sucks at stirring without making a mess.
So much so that I shove him aside and do it myself.
By the time we finish cooking our meal, we’ve burned ourselves a total of seven times between the both of us.
Our rice is undercooked, the sauce is burned, and the naan that I put my heart into is flatter than a pancake.
“I gotta say.” River struggles to swallow his food. “This is amazing.”
After that, Maisie and Orion guided us all to the dining area of the closed restaurant the class is taking place in. It’s dark out and the tables are dimly lit by candles. Couples are sitting in the spot of their choice in the dining area. Bianca and Max are feeding each other at a table close by.
“Oh, yeah,” I jokingly agree. “Far better than what I had on my trip to India.”
“See? We make the perfect couple.”
The fear that whatever lightheartedness is between us cracks and splinters under the weight of his words.
River clears his throat and takes another bite. “Sorry, it’s not the best. But I’ll get better and I’ll make you the best Indian cuisine you’ve ever had.”
My body settles comfortably in my seat, the quiet tension dissipating.
“You know, you could probably save yourself all that hassle and just take me to India,” I joke. Kind of.
I’ve visited India once. When I was thirteen, I begged Dad and Papi to take me so that I could see where I was born.
Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India.
I think at the time Dad and Papi were terrified that I would somehow want to stay, as if being with them wouldn’t be what I wanted anymore. I may have wanted to see where I was born and to get a taste of my culture, but I didn’t want to leave my dads. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Even with Dad being white and Papi being Hispanic, they still tried to bring my Indian culture into our home. I owe them so much for the knowledge I do have of my Indian roots.
Papi would make me Indian cuisine—although I’m now realizing he probably should’ve taught me how to make it instead of just setting the plate down in front of me—and Dad would hum “Chanda Hai Tu, Mera Suraj Hai Tu.” As I got older, he learned how to say the words with me, so now we mindlessly sing the lullaby.
We even had a closet full of Bollywood movies that I watched religiously.
My parents tried. They really did but sometimes I can’t help but feel like a fraud. Like the color of my skin or the place where I was born isn’t enough for me to claim that I’m Indian.
Sometimes I feel out of place. Like a sore thumb that never quite blends in no matter how many times I try to shape myself into the proper mold.
I go back and forth with the feeling of having the knowledge that my parents chose me. They didn’t even know me. I was only a few weeks old when I was adopted, but they picked me like they somehow knew I would make a perfect addition to their family.
“Maybe someday I’ll be able to do that for you,” River admits and I want to tell him that I would never expect him to do that, although having him come to India with me this time would honestly mean the world to me.
And who knows, maybe we can visit the rest of his family in Korea.
I smile and find myself wanting to move closer to River instead of sitting across from him, but instead I rip off a piece of naan and dip it in our butter sauce. It may not be the best, but River and I were raised not to waste food. We’re not going to start now.
“Maybe next time we should do Korean cuisine.” I’m about to suggest that maybe with Bethany being Japanese, she can teach him some childhood recipes if River isn’t down for Korean food, but my first suggestion only makes him scoff.
“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what I want to do, Summer. I have PTSD from my mom hitting me with a rubber slipper because I didn’t cut the cabbage right for kimchi.”
“I mean it is serious business.”
River shrugs. “Yeah, well Bora is the one that got the cooking gene. Clearly.” He gestures toward our food. “And Dae got…well, he got the brains and according to my parents, I got the disappointment gene.” River chuckles, trying to make light of what he just admitted.
I could tell River all I want that he doesn’t have to let the words of his parents cut him up and tear him apart from the inside, but I think every awful, untrue thing his parents have spoken are just far too stuck to the walls inside his brain.
Maisie and Orion eventually end the class. Bianca and I exchange numbers before heading out, and my heart does a backflip when River holds the door for me. I should be used to the gesture by now but somehow it never gets old.
On instinct, I link my arm with River’s, allowing myself the familiar closeness.
He turns his head to look at me as we walk to his car. There’s a soft, content smile on his face. “Thanks for coming with me tonight, Summer.”
“Thanks for inviting me. I had my doubts but this was…fun.”
More than fun.
I always seem to remember who I am when I’m with him and I selfishly want more of it. More of him.
We stand near River’s car and I stop him from opening the passenger side door to let me in. River looks at my hand that rests on top of his before bringing his attention back to my eyes.
I don’t give him time to say anything.
“I feel like we don’t hang out anymore.”
There. I said it. It’s out in the air and there’s no taking it back.
Before our kiss, I know that we were just busy. Me with schoolwork and practice, River with working and taking on any shift he could. But even then, we would always make an effort to hang out. Or at least talk on the phone. Even a quick text was common when we simply just didn’t have the time.
We have moments like this where we seem fine and back to the normal us, but then as if we remember the taste of each other’s lips, the awkwardness fills the space between us again.
I just miss my best friend.
Now it feels like we’ve been avoiding each other and I’m not sure what to do with that. We’re in uncharted territory here.
River watches me for a moment. His eyes scan my face, looking for something that I’m not quite aware of.
“We should fix that then.” River smiles, lifting a weight off my shoulders.
“Yeah.” I nod my head. The excitement on my face is probably the reason River is smiling at me the way he is. “We definitely should.”
If we’re both here in Ellingbrook for the summer, then we might as well spend whatever free time we have right now with each other.
I finally step aside to let River open the passenger door.
“I guess you’re not getting rid of me so easily,” River says.
I don’t know where he got the idea that I’d even want to, when the truth is I wouldn’t dream of it.