know? You were born in L.A., weren’t you?” Amma spoke like it was obvious I would remember Nishanth and I as diaper buddies.
“Obviously, Amma.” I had rolled my eyes. “I just didn’t realize we played together.”
“Well, you did. You were very close.”
“You looked close at the reception,” Sophia pointed out, and my mom’s eyes lit up, happy Sophia had caught onto something that I clearly should have acknowledged.
“As close as you can be when you can’t talk and one of you is too little to crawl.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. You had a connection,” Amma insisted.
Nanna looked at me and gave me a wink when she wasn’t looking, his silent form of solidarity.
“You guys go way back,” Anisha acknowledged. “That’s kind of cool.”
“We have a lot of history. A lot in common. It’s great to have family friends who you understand, isn’t it?” Amma asked pointedly.
I simply nodded.
The conversations like that on Sunday nights aren’t coincidental. She’s gauging my progress and doesn’t expect me to hide anything. After all, I’ve never lied to her before. The truth is, when Nishanth and I text and there is an undercurrent of flirtatiousness, I wonder what it would be like if we started dating–like when he messaged while I was on the bus back to Penn State.
-
So my mom won’t stop going on about you.
Yours too?! I thought it was just on my end,
I replied.
-
Nope. She hasn’t stopped mentioning our family history for the last six hours.
Apparently, we were best buddies when we were babies.
-No one says we still can’t be. We can make up for lost time,
he replied almost instantly.
You ARE from Michigan… I don’t know if I want to give in to this rivalry.
-I like my chances.
His answer prompted some heart fluttering. Maybe love could grow. Except deep down, I want to fall in love after a serendipitous meeting with a soulmate, unbound by history between our families… something new, uncharted, and ours to guide in the direction we want it to go.
That brings me to James. Nothing can happen. I’m Indian, I have other people to consider in making my decisions, and I’ve never stepped a toe out of line. I also can’t explain why monarch butterflies take flight in my belly when I see him. It hasn’t escaped my attention that I’ve worn my favorite dresses all week, or that I’ve been putting on an extra coat of my favorite MAC lip gloss before I walk through the doors. It also hasn’t passed my notice that James arrives earlier and earlier each day. He walks in at 8:55 on Monday. 8:50 on Wednesday. This morning, we meet in the hallway. James slides onto the bench next to me before the previous class even leaves the classroom.
“I think he likes you,” Sophia says seriously when I mention that James suggested Sophia, Luca, and the two of us should hang out soon.
“That’s gleaning a lot from a couple of conversations.”
“He asked you out for coffee, didn’t he?”
“As friends. He could just be checking on me. He seems like the type to do that.”
“Doubtful. Something tells me he likes you.” Sophia is stubborn. “Do you like him?”
“I barely know him.” With equal stubbornness, I ignore the monarchs in my belly.
“What does that have to do with anything?” She gives me a coquettish glance. “Okay, well, then can you do me a favor?”
“Yeah?”
“Just don’t overanalyze this. Go with your gut.” She says this firmly, a command rather than a request.
The thing is, I wasn’t raised to ‘go with my gut,’ or think about myself. I even made the decision to go to college closer to home because I thought being able to go home for Diwali or for family celebrations would be beneficial for everyone. My parents, who always warned me ahead of time what festivals were coming, could still feel like a family.
Whether I want to or not, I always do what is necessary for the greater good. But as James crosses my mind again, I wonder if I should
“Obviously, Amma.” I had rolled my eyes. “I just didn’t realize we played together.”
“Well, you did. You were very close.”
“You looked close at the reception,” Sophia pointed out, and my mom’s eyes lit up, happy Sophia had caught onto something that I clearly should have acknowledged.
“As close as you can be when you can’t talk and one of you is too little to crawl.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. You had a connection,” Amma insisted.
Nanna looked at me and gave me a wink when she wasn’t looking, his silent form of solidarity.
“You guys go way back,” Anisha acknowledged. “That’s kind of cool.”
“We have a lot of history. A lot in common. It’s great to have family friends who you understand, isn’t it?” Amma asked pointedly.
I simply nodded.
The conversations like that on Sunday nights aren’t coincidental. She’s gauging my progress and doesn’t expect me to hide anything. After all, I’ve never lied to her before. The truth is, when Nishanth and I text and there is an undercurrent of flirtatiousness, I wonder what it would be like if we started dating–like when he messaged while I was on the bus back to Penn State.
-
So my mom won’t stop going on about you.
Yours too?! I thought it was just on my end,
I replied.
-
Nope. She hasn’t stopped mentioning our family history for the last six hours.
Apparently, we were best buddies when we were babies.
-No one says we still can’t be. We can make up for lost time,
he replied almost instantly.
You ARE from Michigan… I don’t know if I want to give in to this rivalry.
-I like my chances.
His answer prompted some heart fluttering. Maybe love could grow. Except deep down, I want to fall in love after a serendipitous meeting with a soulmate, unbound by history between our families… something new, uncharted, and ours to guide in the direction we want it to go.
That brings me to James. Nothing can happen. I’m Indian, I have other people to consider in making my decisions, and I’ve never stepped a toe out of line. I also can’t explain why monarch butterflies take flight in my belly when I see him. It hasn’t escaped my attention that I’ve worn my favorite dresses all week, or that I’ve been putting on an extra coat of my favorite MAC lip gloss before I walk through the doors. It also hasn’t passed my notice that James arrives earlier and earlier each day. He walks in at 8:55 on Monday. 8:50 on Wednesday. This morning, we meet in the hallway. James slides onto the bench next to me before the previous class even leaves the classroom.
“I think he likes you,” Sophia says seriously when I mention that James suggested Sophia, Luca, and the two of us should hang out soon.
“That’s gleaning a lot from a couple of conversations.”
“He asked you out for coffee, didn’t he?”
“As friends. He could just be checking on me. He seems like the type to do that.”
“Doubtful. Something tells me he likes you.” Sophia is stubborn. “Do you like him?”
“I barely know him.” With equal stubbornness, I ignore the monarchs in my belly.
“What does that have to do with anything?” She gives me a coquettish glance. “Okay, well, then can you do me a favor?”
“Yeah?”
“Just don’t overanalyze this. Go with your gut.” She says this firmly, a command rather than a request.
The thing is, I wasn’t raised to ‘go with my gut,’ or think about myself. I even made the decision to go to college closer to home because I thought being able to go home for Diwali or for family celebrations would be beneficial for everyone. My parents, who always warned me ahead of time what festivals were coming, could still feel like a family.
Whether I want to or not, I always do what is necessary for the greater good. But as James crosses my mind again, I wonder if I should
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