Page 151 of Glass Jawed
Aarohi lets out a strangled groan and glares at her father. “Fine. But you have to tell Ishi if I’m late to game night.”
Raj Uncle laughs, says something I don’t catch, and wanders off.
I turn to her. “Hey, we don’t have to—”
“It’s fine,” she says, cutting me off gently. “You need clothes anyway. I doubt Vikram has more spares.”
I nod and then frown—realizing something.
“Did... uh... did you ask him to lend me thesherwani?”
She doesn’t answer but she bites her lower lip like she’s holding something back. I don’t think she’ll answer. But it’s answer enough.
A beat of silence passes. Then, she says softly. “Anyway. Have you... eaten anything?”
It hits me in the chest.
I blink. “No. Just got here.”
“Oh.” Her eyes sweep the room. “There’s... chicken sandwiches. Andpoha. Which is like flattened rice. Spiced. Kinda sweet. People either love it or hate it.”
She’s rambling.
She rarelyrambles.
She’s also fidgeting with the string of her sweatpants, not meeting my eyes, not breathing quite right. Like she’s remembering something she’s not ready to remember.
I want to reach for her hand. But I don’t.
“I’ll go grab something,” I say instead. “Haveyoueaten?”
She nods once. But it’s the saddest nod I’ve ever seen.
An hour later, belly full and head clear-ish, I wait near my car, casually kicking at the gravel. When I hear her footsteps, I freeze for a second too long.
She’s in jeans and a T-shirt now. Hair tied back, no makeup. Still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.
After a small, polite smile, she slides into the passenger seat. We punch in the route to the canopy shop—about thirty minutes away—and start the drive.
“There are a few stores near the canopy shop. We can check those out for yoursherwani,” she says softly.
“Okay,” I nod, easing into traffic.
The first five minutes stretch out in silence. It’s not exactly awkward or hostile—butfragile. Like something could crack if we even breathed wrong.
I try. “Will the canopy even fit in the car?”
“Um... It’s disassembled. It’ll fit,” she says without looking at me.
Another stretch of silence. I reach for the knob. “Want music?”
No answer.
I glance sideways. Her puffy eyes are locked on me.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Ishould be asking that,” she murmurs.
