She snaps her book shut and gathers her belongings before I can figure out what I’ve done wrong. I trail after her, squinting as the bright daylight assails my vision.
“Wait, I—let me drive you home.”
“It’s ok. I can take the bus.”
She pulls out her phone, halting when I place my hand over the screen.
“I live ten minutes away from Irsia. It’s no trouble.”
She looks like she’s going to argue again, but sighs instead, following me to my parked car. The ride is oddly quiet, the short period of camaraderie from the café having ended abruptly. Alia remains lost in her thoughts, and I get the sense any interruption would be unwelcome.
When we get to the parking lot of her apartment building, she disembarks without waiting. I hop out to join her.
“Oh,” she exclaims, swinging her bag across her body such that the strap presses into the valley between her breasts. “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”
“Humor me.” I let her lead, matching her step for step as we approach the main entrance. The lobby beyond the glass doors is empty, a guard seated right outside.
“Thank you. Again.”
She reaches for the door and I blurt out, “Give me your number.”
She stops, blinking questioningly at me. “Why?”
“Because, as much as I’d like to rely on telepathy, texting each other would be easier.”
“T-texting?”
My brain races, trying to formulate a reason.
“How else will I send you a list of more good things that start with D?”
The throwback makes her lips tip up. With a roll of her eyes, she accepts my phone and punches her number in. I fight the urge to look over her shoulder, waiting until she’s done.
Alia Joshi. She entered her full name. So proper, so fucking cute. I shift her details into another field and change her contact to her nickname instead.
I press the call button, holding my screen up just as her phone rings in response.
“Really? Tater Tots?” she laughs, waving her phone at me. “Maybe I should save your name as Not Novak?”
“If it is anything other than ‘Handsome Hockey Player Not Novak’, I’ll be deeply disappointed.”
Twin pink spots appear on her cheeks, the shadows that had shrouded her during the car ride slowly lifting. I like making this woman blush, I realize with a jolt.
“I’ll see you around, Tots.” I wave, walking backward, one hand in my pocket. With a light shake of her head, her tiny smile intact, she turns and disappears down the lobby, leaving me wishing for another glimpse.
Alia fuckin’ Joshi. I’m glad I could clear the air with at least one of the two people I’ve been thinking about. Hopefully, Moore is just as easy—because he certainly isn’t as beautiful.
7
ALIA
I’d like to have amnesia. Then I could honestly tell Amma I don’t remember receiving her message about a relationship assessment quiz. My thumb hovers over the settings of the new matrimonial profile she created last week, slipping and hitting the delete button. Oops.
Heaving a small bag of oranges, I walk through the brightly lit store in search of Irsia. An employee announces something about a pasta sauce spill in aisle eleven while my eyes scan the rows of products I’m passing by. God, I hope she’s found the sago I’ve been craving. I need a good hit ofsabudana khichdisoon. Boba isalmostas good, but the spicy potato and tapioca dish speaks to the Maharashtrian side of me, carrying echoes of a happy childhood I’m eager to relive.
Amma, my sweet mum, has sent me multiple voice notes to walk me through the process so that I finally can master the art ofnon-clumpysabudana.It was also accompanied with yet another matrimonial profile, which I’ve ignored since.
I find Irsia amidst the root vegetables, spot-checking each onion before placing it in her cart. I’m taller and athletically built with straight dark tresses, but Irsia is my opposite: petite yet curvy with a bouncing mass of coils and waves. I’ve always thought her hair was as moody as her, ranging from wild disarray to orderly perfection. Where I’m calm and more likely to blend into the background, my beautiful older cousin once filled every room she occupied with energy and laughter. Both of these have been missing since the unexpected demise of her husband two years ago.