Several faces peered over and around their neighbors to get a good glimpse. I waved shyly back at them. “Hi.”
I heard a couple of “Hey, there’s,” and “Nice to meet you’s,” and then they went back to their conversations, forgetting we were there.
Jason filled up a plate for me and then popped open a cooler. “Hey, Kelsey, want a beer?”
I shook my head. “Soda, please. Diet, if you have it.” He handed me an icy diet soda, grabbed a beer for himself, and pointed to two empty lawn chairs.
Sitting down, he immediately rammed half his hot dog in his mouth and chewed loudly. It was almost as bad as watching a tiger eat. Lucky for me, it was a little less bloody.
Ugh. What’s with me? Am I intentionally looking for things that annoy me? I really have to chill out or Jennifer’s right: I’m going to miss out on life. I looked away from him and started picking at my food.
“So, you aren’t a drinker, eh, Kelsey?”
“Umm, I guess not. I’m underage first of all. Secondly, alcohol lost all appeal for me when my parents were killed by a drunk driver a few years back.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He grimaced and scooted his beer out of sight under the chair.
I mentally groaned. What am I doing? Immediately, I apologized, “It’s okay, Jason. Sorry to be such a downer. I promise I’ll be much more perky at the game.”
“No problem. Don’t give it a second thought.” He went back to scarfing down his food and laughing with his friends.
The problem was that I did give it a second thought. I knew my parents’ death wasn’t something you should normally bring up on a first date, but . . . I knew that he would have reacted very differently from the way Jason did. Maybe it was because he was older, more than three hundred years older. Or maybe it was because he wasn’t American. Maybe it was because he’d lost his parents too. Or maybe it was because he was just . . . perfect.
I tried to shut it down, but I couldn’t help myself. I flashed back to a time when I woke up from a nightmare featuring my parents’ death, and he was there to comfort me. I could still feel his hand wiping the tears from my cheeks as he pulled me onto his lap.
“Shh, Kelsey. I’m here. I’m not leaving you, priya. Hush now. Mein aapka raksha karunga. I will watch over you, priyatama.” He’d stroked my hair and whispered soothing words to me until I felt the dream fade.
Since then, I’d had time to look up the words I didn’t understand in India. I’m with you. I’ll take care of you. My beloved. My sweetheart. If he were here with me now, he would’ve pulled me into a hug or onto his lap, and we would have been sad together. He would have stroked my back and understood how I felt.
I shook myself. No. No, he wouldn’t. He might have once, but now he’s moved on. He’s gone now, and it doesn’t matter anymore what he would have done or how he would have reacted. It’s over.
Jason was filling another plate, and I tried to look interested and involve myself in the conversation. Half an hour later, we all got up to head to the football field.
It was nice being outside in the crisp fall air, but the benches were cold, and my nose was frozen. The cold didn’t seem to bother Jason and his friends. They stood up and cheered a lot. I tried to join in, but I never knew what I was cheering about. The ball was too far away and too small for me to see much. I’d never had much interest in football. I much preferred movies and books.
I glanced up at the scoreboard. The first half clock was running down. Two minutes. One minute. Twenty seconds. BZZZZ! The timer sounded, and both teams ran off the field. The homecoming parade started and several antique cars drove around the outside of the field. Beautiful girls dressed in chiffon and silk were perched up on the top of the backseats, waving at the crowd.
Jason joined all the other guys in wolf whistles and screamed out his appreciation with the frenzied throng. The scent of sandalwood drifted over the bleachers, and a silky soft voice whispered in my ear, “You are more beautiful than any woman out there.”