Chapter 29
I Thought You Were Different
Nani comes into my room for the third time. “Jay, beta. Das bajne wale hain, and you know Kumari will be coming now.”
I know that our cleaning helper won’t be able to sweep and mop the floors if I stayed in bed all day, but I don’t care. I pull the covers over my head and burrow myself inside. After what happened yesterday, I have the least interest in living my life.
Nani sits on the edge of my bed. “What’s wrong, Jay? You’ve been like this since you got back home from GISB. You’re worrying your mother and me.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” I mutter.
She sighs, then gets up when she hears the doorbell ring. I can hear Nani’s words.
“Bitiya, he’s not eating, not talking, at all. He’s been in bed all day, even though it doesn’t look like he got any sleep. It’s frightening us. We don’t know what’s going on. Perhaps you should speak to him.”
Footsteps, and Ruchi’s in my room. “Jay.”
I turn away from her. Sunlight streams in through the mosquito net covering the window.
She shakes my shoulder. “Jay.”
“What?” I snap. “What do you want?”
“About Friday—“
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You want to explain how you stabbed me in the back like that.”
She grits her teeth. “Would you—“
“No, I won’t.” I sit up. “I thought you cared how I felt about Aravind.”
“I do, it’s just—“
“Just what? I knew there was a one-in-a-million chance that Aravind wouldn’t like me, but you? I thought you two were friends.”
Ruchi sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. “We are, Jay.”
“So why would he say that? And you looked so guilty about it. Like you knew.”
She’s quiet. “It’s not what you believe.”
“Well, I don’t know what to believe,” I say. “I thought you wanted us together. Like we were Nick and Charlie and all that jazz.”
“And I still believe that,” she retaliates. “For the last time, he didn’t mean it!”
“So why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s complicated!”
“Complicated doesn’t fix it!” I yell. “No matter what you say, the truth is the truth: Aravind likes you. You want to deny it. You’ve been keeping it a secret from me the whole darn time. That’s what’s it is.”
Ruchi jerks back, like I’d slapped her. She exhales sharply and gets up from my bed.
“I just wanted you to listen to me,” she says. “How wrong I was. I thought you were different, Jay.”
She storms out, and I bury under the covers again.
I manage to get out of bed and go through my normal routine. But the 21 Dares game settles in the back of my brain, and it doesn’t move from there. I can’t get myself to feel… anything. Like my brain, heart, and body have all gone numb.
I pace back and forth in my room, wondering what to do. I can’t keep doing this, especially because in two days school will start again—and it’s the battle-of-bands event on Monday. I can’t have my head messed up before playing guitar onstage.
My eyes travel to my phone, and I know exactly whom to call. I check the world clock—12:30 pm in New York. Probably lunch hour in Amelia around this time. I dial the number, hoping he’ll pick up.
“Hello?”
“Trace… it’s me.”
A pause. Then, a low, hollow laugh.
“Aw, yeah. That best friend of mine, who disappeared from the face of the earth for six whole months.”
The scorn cuts through into my ears like a knife. I’m too stunned to speak.
“Trace—“ I find my voice again, but it cracks. “I need your help.”
“First tell me, what were you doing? I only got one text from you—a message saying you’d landed in India, the night you left. That’s it. I heard zip, zero, nada from you after that, and now you call, when you need my help?”
“It’s not like that—“
“Then what is it? You’ve been living a jolly good life, that’s what. Probably made a host of new best friends, with fun stuff to do. And while it’s all going great, I’ve been sitting at our table, alone, almost every day, watching my life fall apart. You could’ve called, or texted. Even a freaking e-mail could’ve worked! And I waited every day, every week, every month. Hoping that you’re not one of those people who just up and goes without a way to stay in contact someone back here.” He scoffs. “I thought you were different, Jay.”
Trace repeats Ruchi’s words, letter by letter. The exact same words that now tear me in half like paper.
“Listen, man. Do me a favour and never call back again. It isn’t going to work.”
The line goes dead. I pull my phone away from my ear, and my hands start to shake. My vision goes blurry.
No, no, no. First Ruchi, and now Trace. I thought of all the times I’d promised him I’d call, promised myself that I’d stay in touch, before we left. And now here I am, broken more possibly that can be fixed.
I touch the neck of my T-shirt. It’s wet.
The weight of it all begins to hit me—Aravind’s statement, my argument with Ruchi, Trace’s scorns—and I sit on the floor. A deep shuddering passes through me, and the tears gush down like a waterfall, washing away all the good times I had with the people whose trust I’ve lost.
My crying interrupts Nani and Mom’s comedy show. They run into my room when they hear me.
“Jay!” Mom exclaims. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, my face wet and shiny, still sobbing loudly.
Nani wraps her arms around me and pulls me close. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, beta, sab kuch theek hoga. Come here.”
We sit on my bed, and I weep into Nani’s sari, staining it with drool, snot and tears. She gently rocks my body like it’s a cradle, trying to calm me down. Eventually, my cries hiccup into suppressed sobs.
Mom presses her hands to my cheeks, wiping them with her thumbs. “Beta, you have to tell us what happened. Something hasn’t been right from yesterday.”
“It never was, Mom.” I sniffle, take a shaky breath. “Everything is so, so wrong.”
Slowly, I tell Mom and Nani about the 21 Dares game, about what Aravind said. About Ruchi and me fighting. About how I needed some advice, so I called Trace, and what he told me over the phone. Tears prick my eyes, but I wipe them away before they let loose. When I finish, Mom pulls me in for a hug, and I press my forehead on her shoulder.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper. “I messed everything up.”
“Oh, darling.” She strokes my hair. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Nani touches my shoulder, and I turn to look at her. “The Aravind part is really hard for you, and we understand. Especially because of how attached you two were. The Trace part—that all happens with time, beta. Promises can disappear with a new place and a new environment, and you forget to remember. We just wish you could’ve told us about all this.”
“I’m sorry, Nani.” I hang my head. “It wasn’t easy to say to anyone.”
“But you’re young, Jay.” Mom puts an arm around me. “These things happen, and you don’t always know what to do. And when you do, much, much later, you can have regrets. That’s okay, though. It’s all a part of life. These things will come and go. Just remember this: your physical safety and mental security are important to both me and Nani. If you ever feel threatened or hurt or think that everything is going wrong, you have to tell us.” She cups my cheek. “How will we help you if we don’t know?”
She’s right. We’re a family, all in this together. I’ve lost all my lifelines. I need them, so I’ve got to stop keeping secrets.
Nani touches my hand. “Do you promise, beta?”
I look at them. Even if it all falls apart, I know I have them beside me. Nothing can take that away.
I nod resolutely. “I promise.”
Chapter 30
Haircuts and Idli-Dosa
On Sunday morning, my eyelids crack open, and I stretch and sit up. Mom breezes into my room, toting a dusting cloth.
“You’re up! Chalo, chalo, get ready. We have some errands to run.” She ruffles my hair as I get out of bed and head to the bathroom. When I’ve cleaned up and showered, Nani sets a plate of scrambled egg and paranthas.
“Um...” I look at both of them. “What’s this about?”
Nani frowns. “I thought you liked this.”
“I do!” Today’s breakfast is my favourite, in fact. But I have the suspicion that they trying to make me feel better about yesterday. I really don’t need that, but what can I do?
Mom taps the table. “Quickly eat. We’re got work to do.”
I polish off the plate within fifteen minutes. Then, I follow Mom downstairs to the parking, where she hands me my bright blue helmet, before putting her grey one on and starting her TVS scooter. She backs it out into the driveway, and I climb on the back.
As she drives out of Caldera and onto the busy 19th Main, I shout in her ear, “Um, where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” she yells back. “Let’s just say, your hair needs work!”
I open my mouth to say something, but then I stop as I feel my curls. Yep, they’re way too long for the PE teachers to let me inside the school.
We ride to 27th Main, which I like to think of as Bengaluru’s Times Square. It’s busy as usual, even though it’s a weekend afternoon. Families, couples and groups of friends stroll around, shopping or just enjoying a walk through the bustling haven of stores.
Mom rights and parks the scooter in front of a salon. I walk inside, and the receptionist greets me with a smile. Mom asks for a guy called Yuvraj.
“I went here a few weeks ago,” she says to me. “They do a real neat job, so I want you to try it too.”
Yuvraj appears, a man with short spiky hair and a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He ushers me to a chair.
“Something appropriate for school would help,” Mom says to him.
He looks me in the mirror. “You have any ideas?”
I run a hand through my hair. I remember how much it grew out during COVID, and I’ve just clumsily trimmed the ends myself since then. It always looked good. But to cut most of it off... I swallow hard.
Mom puts a hand on my shoulder. “I think it will be a good change for you.”
“I can buzz the sides of his hair and cut the ends to about an inch, maybe straighten them. It won’t cover his face,” Yuvraj offers.
That doesn’t sound too bad. I nod.
“Let’s do it.”
Thirty minutes later, I keep touching my hair, even as we ride to our next stop, a restaurant Mom wants to try out. We stop in front of a small building with a sign that reads Juice Junction.
We head up to the counter. The man behind hands us a menu, and I scan it. My eyes bulge at all the different options, especially in the South Indian section.
“Try the thatthe idli and masala dosa. They’re the specialty,” Mom says.
We place our orders and sit at one of the long tables.
“Your father brought me here during our engagement, all the time. It was his favourite restaurant.” Mom laughs and shakes her head.
I smile. “Was the haircut a part of the date too?”
She sighs. “No, that’s my own tradition. Every time I had to get over someone, I’d just tell Nani I needed a cut. She didn’t object or even say anything; I guess she knew every time what it was.”
“But I thought Dad was your first love.”
“He was, and always will be. But, especially at your age, I’ve had crushes plenty times to know how to get my heart broken, and fix it. Though…” She looks me in the eye. “I don’t think that story might help. You and Aravind… it was something.”
I slump in my chair, the ache coming back to me. “I really thought he liked me too.”
“Well, I don’t know what he’s thinking right now. But I’ll be honest, Jay: in India, there are accepting people, and there are…” She trails off, then says, “Maybe Aravind said something, but was really thinking something else.”
“He said Ruchi, Mom. Even though she’s the one who was trying to help us,” I say. “I don’t think they were thinking anything else that day.”
Just then, the chef yells our orders, and Mom and I go take our plates. I immediately bite into the idli, and it’s fluffy and sweet and spicy, with the sambar and chutney mixed in. “Mmmm,” I moan. “These are delish.”
“Jay,” Mom says. She sounds so serious I look up from my plate of South Indian heaven. She taps her fingers against the table. “I still think there’s more to the story than you know.”
I take a bite of the dosa, which melts in my mouth, but now I can’t focus on the taste. “Then why didn’t Ruchi say anything?”
“Maybe she was trying to explain.” Mom takes a sip of sambar. “And you didn’t give her a chance.”
My mind flashes back to the fight we had yesterday. Ruchi kept saying that. I didn’t believe her. Now, guilt washes over me and wipes away my feel-good vibes like a tidal wave.
Mom notices my expression, and backtracks a bit. “Or maybe you were too upset to listen.”
“Maybe.” My voice cracks.
Mom tears a piece of her own dosa. “And Trace…”
My stomach opens into a whirlpool of regret. “I ditched him, Mom. There’s no going around that.”
“Did you mean to?”
I can’t help a tear escaping. “No,” I whisper softly.
“Then it’s only bad timing. And that’s okay. Now eat. I didn’t bring you here to become a sad mess again.”
I smile, and gobble up the rest of my meal.
Chapter 31
The Truth
The impromptu lunch is awesome, and we head out on our scooter back home. As we ride up the driveway, I see Ruchi sitting on a bench in the apartment ground.
Mom brings the scooter to a halt. “Go.”
“But what if—“
“If my instincts are right, she’s waiting for you to go talk to her.” She gives me the ‘mom look’, which can see into the soul of the situation. “It’s not too late.”
Reluctantly, I take off my helmet and make my way to Ruchi. She looks up at me. I can hear our scooter driving up and away in the background.
“I’m sorry.” The words ring strong and true.
She’s still silent, eyes boring into mine, and I realise she’s waiting for me to actually finish my apology.
“I should’ve listened to you. When you were trying to explain.”
When she speaks after a few seconds, her voice is heavy, and raw. “I’m telling you what I told you on Friday, and yesterday; it isn’t what you think.”
I sit next to her. “So tell me. I’m ready to listen.”
She looks at the sky, draws in a deep breath. “Aravind and I knew the truth: even if everyone talks about them, the LGBTQ+ community in India is met with… what we’ll call semi-liberal views. That’s the same in school, too. So when he told me, we had to hide it. If someone ever posed a question like Ojaswi did that day, we had to make sure we didn’t blow his cover.”
Something starts to piece together in my brain, but I’m not sure I can understand what’s happening. “What did he tell you?”
Her lower lip trembles. “He’s gay. Like you.”
My breath catches in my throat. It seems impossible. One in a million.
“And… and he likes me.”
It isn’t a question, but she nods anyway.
I feel numb, for a few seconds. Then it all takes over me: the heartbreak, the revelation, and the gut-wrenching feeling knowing that he didn’t hurt me—I hurt him. By running from him, not knowing what he actually felt. Not giving either him or Ruchi a chance to explain.
“He’s in the closet about it now. When he told me, I asked him if Gagan Bhaiya knew, but by the time Aravind figured it out…” She shakes her head. “It was too late.”
I cover my face with my hands. “Oh my God… I ruined everything. It’s all my fault!”
She places a hand on my back. “No, it wasn’t. It was mine. I shouldn’t even have agreed to that stupid game. I created that rift between the three of us.” She kneels in front of me and pulls my hands away from my face. “You and Aravind have been the most sincere and… and really the best friends I’ve had in literal forever. There’s no words for it. And I sent it all crashing to the ground.” Her voice cracks. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
I pull her into a hug. “We didn’t know, either.”
She squeezes tight, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye.
We release, and the ominous question appears in front of me.
“How will I ever apologise to Aravind?”
She smiles. “You’ll find a way.”
“But he won’t ever talk to me again. Not after what I did.”
“You’ll be surprised to know. Aravind’s been calling me up all weekend. Hoping you’ve said something.” She laughs. “Man, the two of you put me in an impossible situation sometimes. I had to hide the secret of who liked who from both of you. Both of you were getting frustrated ‘cause neither could tell how the other felt about him. And I’m the one who knew the truth all along.”
I laugh too. “That must’ve been hard.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s driving me crazy. Honestly, I wish y’all could just confess and spare me the trouble!”
She’s back to her usual Ruchi-ness. The joke’s light-hearted but at the same time, it strikes a chord in my heart. Apologising means telling him how I felt about him. A real-deal confession.
Ruchi can sense that. “You’ll be able to do it, Jay. Don’t worry.” She holds up her hand. “Fingers crossed. Like old times.”
I grin. “Like old times, indeed.”
Chapter 32
Save Your Tears
I pace up and down, then sit still with my foot jiggling anxiously. You might be thinking that we’re yet to perform, but that’s not the case—we’re actually done, a cover of a Bollywood track whose name I still forget, and ‘Set It All Free’ by Scarlett Johansson. I’m a little jittery because… well, guess who’s performing next.
I didn’t talk to Aravind before Fire’s turn, despite Ruchi’s insistence. I didn’t want to tangle with his headspace, and I just felt too chicken to do it anyway. I’m trying to build up confidence early on, and so here I am, sitting on a chair next to Ruchi and a few teachers in the audience, during the Inter-house Battle-of-Bands event in the auditorium.
I watch the group of Fire students walk up to the stage and adjust their instruments. Aravind steps forward to fix the mics, and I catch a glimpse of his face: two red lines smeared below his eyes, like a football player. We’ve got face paint too: Earthbenders have a mountain on one side and a dark green E on the other. All the participants are either dressed in black or wearing T-shirts and tops of their house colours.
Fire is done setting up, and they start playing: the first is another Bollywood song. The lyrics are vaguely familiar, but I’m still not able to figure it out. Once it’s over, the audience, especially the Fire students, applaud and cheer. The band launches into the second song.
Aravind grips the mic tight. As he surveys the crowd, our eyes meet. It’s only for a few seconds, but I can tell what they say: You need to listen to me.
I will.
This time I recognise the song from the first few notes: ‘Save Your Tears’ by The Weeknd. But as Aravind starts to sing, I feel something strange build up inside me.
“I saw you dancing in a crowded room
You look so happy when I'm not with you
But then you saw me, caught you by surprise
A single teardrop falling from your eye
I don't know why I run away
I'll make you cry when I run away…”
My jiggling foot slows and taps the beat. I still feel his eyes watching me.
“You could've asked me why I broke your heart
You could've told me that you fell apart
But you walked past me like I wasn't there
And just pretended like you didn't care…”
Ruchi touches my hand. “Are you okay?”
I sniffle. I’m amazed to find myself a little emotional. But that’s what Aravind’s voice always does: it can reach into the deepest recesses of your heart and bring them out on your face.
“I don't know why I run away
I'll make you cry when I run away…”
“Everything feels so wrong,” I whisper.
Ruchi grips my hand. “You can still fix it.”
“Take me back 'cause I wanna stay
Save your tears for another—
Save your tears for another day
Save your tears for another day…”
And the song goes on. Everyone’s enjoying it, swaying their hands and nodding heir heads. When the last note sounds, everyone rises to their feet, clapping and hooting. It’s a noteworthy performance. Maybe they’ll win.
A tug on my sleeve. Ruchi.
“Go talk to him.”
My hands shake.
“What if I mess up?”
Ruchi gives me a steely-eyed look. “You won’t. Speak from the heart. Works every time.”
I take a deep breath, nod at her. Then, I run to the stage and up the side steps, entering the green room in the back. All the other participants had left; only he’s there, packing his water bottle into his bag.
“A—Aravind,” I croak.
His hands go still.
“We need to talk.” I close the door behind me, palms sweating so much they slick off the metal doorknob.
He zips his bag up, then stands and turns to me. His quiet demeanour is back, but it’s unnerving this time.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say. “I shouldn’t have run from you back in the bus. I know it hurt you.”
“I get it, Jay,” he whispers quietly. “But I guess that’s what I’ll have to live with. Just because we’re both queer doesn’t mean you like me.”
“But that’s where it’s all wrong.” My throat tightens, but I force myself to say it. “I do like you, Aravind.”
He looks up at me, surprised.
“Yeah. A lot. Since the day we met. I never thought it’d go the other way back, ‘cause, it felt impossible.” I stare into his deep brown eyes. “I thought you actually did like Ruchi. But whatever happened before, we can put it behind us. Ruchi explained everything to me. And I get it, because I’ve been through that too.”
I step forward. “For God knows how long, I wanted to tell you how I really felt. But the 21 Dares game got to me. In the end, I ruined our friendship. I’m sorry.”
His eyes widen with every word, then travel down to his shoes. He swallows hard.
“This isn’t what I expected,” he says softly. “I didn’t think in a million years it could happen either.” He looks up at me. “I’m sorry, too. For lying, and hurting you. And the truth is… I like you too, Jay.”
I exhale, then smile. He smiles back. It feels like this is an alternate universe, where the impossible happens, but it doesn’t exist. Yet here we are.
Cautiously, I reach for his hand. But he doesn’t hesitate, and takes mine. His palm is warm and gives me those telltale butterflies. My fingers weave between his.
The music starts from behind us: sounds like Air is playing.
“C’mon.” I drag him toward the door, and hand in hand, we run down the corridor and back into the auditorium. Ruchi’s searching for us, but when she turns back, she grins and runs towards where we’re standing, slamming us both with a big hug.
“I’m so glad you guys are friends again! The triumphant trio is back!” She pulls away, looking at us like she already won first place in the competition.
Aravind and I share a small smile, and he looks at Ruchi. “We’re not exactly…friends anymore.”
She’s confused. “Whaddaya mean?”
“We mean…” I hold up our interlocked hands. “You’re looking at the new Nick and Charlie!”
Ruchi’s mouth opens wide, and she jumps into the air and squeals. Yep, total shipper fangirl mode.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” She hugs us even tighter this time. “I love you guys so much!”
Aravind and I laugh and squeeze back. Then, the songs end and it’s time for the results. Ishaan steps on stage in front of the podium.
“In the third place, we have… Air!”
Decent cheering ensues from the far left of the auditorium, by the students in yellow house uniforms.
“In second place, we have Water!”
The blue-shirted students applaud louder.
Ruchi turns to both of us. “Either one of us is last, or first.”
I sling my arms across her and Aravind’s shoulders. “I’m proud of all of us, no matter what.”
They smile and nod.
“And now, for first place… we have a tie! Between Fire and Earth!”
Thunderous applause reverberates in the auditorium as Ruchi, Aravind and I lean in for another group hug. The rest of our band mates come running and we’re jumping and shouting all at once. I smile at Aravind, who pulls me in a hug of our own. He leans his head against mine.
Yep. Today’s definitely that awesome alternate universe.
Later that night, I text Trace. Even if it doesn’t fix things, I just feel the need to say something.
hey ik u may not talk 2me anymore
but the thing is
ur right
i got a whole new life, with new best friends (and I even have a boyfriend but thats a long story)
but i never forgot bout u
bcoz u were my first friend
im sry i never called or texted
but im willing to put that behind us
i just hope u forgive me
One minute passes. Two. It feels like he’s never going to reply, until:
i get it man
gotta move on
It’s not moving on, exactly, but I decide not to explain that part when I see the three dots hovering beside Trace’s name. He still has something to say.
btw HOW did u start dating already?
im still tryna find a gf myself
I laugh. Somehow, even across the world, he still cracks me up.
ok this happened like TODAY, but…
And we text back and forth, the balance between us finally restored.
Oh yeah, also that link in the beginning? It's not related to American Born Indian in any way whatsoever, but I think old readers might recognise the name Trevor Sanders. So maybe… the music might just be coming back soon.
Signed,
Mel
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