Deepa-Auntie was allowed, and of course that had all the freedom of sitting in a shop window. Unlike the other aunties, not to mention myself, she couldn’t come and go from the house as she pleased. She had to ask permission and be escorted by Pran or Binti-Ma’am. Her only outings were infrequent trips to the temple to pray, and she always returned home more disheartened than when she’d left. I often stayed in on the weekends, when I’d have preferred to play in the street, because it cheered her to have my company. I didn’t realize until years later that Deepa-Auntie was not so many years older than me and my friends.
Taking Aamaal’s hand, I left Deepa-Auntie and went into the hallway, pausing for a moment to listen to the voices of the house. I could hear murmurings from the second floor. One of the aunties barked with laughter, which was enough to confirm that Pran wasn’t upstairs. I put my finger to my lips to silence Aamaal and led her down the short, narrow passage to his room. We had to pass Binti-Ma’am’s room. There was no danger of awakening her. She slept deeply in the afternoons, knocked out by the heat and her own bootleg booze.
I leaned my ear against Pran’s door. Aamaal’s hand sweated in my own. How quickly she had learned to fear him. I shook my head to let her know he wasn’t there, though I didn’t speak, as it was possible he’d heard us come out of the washing room and was deliberately keeping silent, waiting to pounce. Aamaal tugged at my hand and I let her lead me back down the hall to the washing room. I stuck my head in and gestured to Deepa-Auntie to come out. I still didn’t dare speak.
The three of us crept as silently as we could to the ladder leading to the second floor. Deepa-Auntie had one foot up when the door to Pran’s room flew open and he raced out.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.
Deepa-Auntie started to cry.
Grace
I was nervous going to school on Monday but it was happy nerves. I realized it was possible that things wouldn’t work out with Todd, but just the fact that he liked me made me feel like a brand-new person, prettier, more confident. As I entered the building, I smiled at kids and said hi to the receptionist, like it was completely normal for me to speak to an adult even when I was not compelled to.
Todd and I had texted all weekend. It turned out we liked a lot of the same music and we shared a passion for Bollywood films. Like me, he was studying Hindi so he could watch them without subtitles. We agreed to a Bollywood movie marathon that coming Friday night, just like I used to have with Tina. It was all I could do not to share my excitement with my parents but I wanted to see their look of amazement when I brought him home. He wasn’t only good-looking, he was smart and funny and surprisingly wise, in a teenage boy way. I told him a bit about what happened with Madison, not his part in it of course, but just that I’d said something thoughtless that upset her and she didn’t want to be my friend anymore. It felt so good to tell someone. I told him how Madison’s group made me wonder if I was even capable of making friends. He said that was ridiculous and I couldn’t let other people get inside my head like that. Nothing he said was a revelation, but just hearing it from someone else made me feel stronger.
By Sunday evening the conversation had taken a romantic turn, though perhaps romantic isn’t quite the right word. At some point we got more playful, flirted, talked about sex and crossed a line. Just thinking about it made my stomach churn. I never would have thought I’d do something like that. I deleted all of his texts immediately and made him promise to do the same. I was horrified that anyone might read them—or worse, see them. I don’t even remember what I wrote. It was like I was channeling someone else, someone sexy and fearless.
We’d agreed to meet for lunch and show the whole world we’d become a couple. I’d got up early and dressed carefully. I’d left my hair down, instead of scraping it back into a ponytail the way I usually