Page 71 of Rebound
My heart has ached for Tamara Chandy for so long. To brush my fingers through her curly hair and trace the little sun spots on her face, to remind her every single day that she’s my one true love. Twenty years is a long time, but first loves are hard to forget.
“Despite everything, I had a good time today.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, Mrs. Joseph,” I tease and she rolls her eyes.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“You’re already carrying my baby. We’re way ahead of everything.”
Tamara looks like she wants to launch into a lecture, but catches herself in time. She smiles at me and stands. I don’t move, afraid to upset this balance we’ve created.
“I’m gonna nap. Maybe we can cook dinner together later?”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay.” She smiles and shifts on her feet awkwardly. I start to stand, but she shakes her head and spins on the balls of her feet. My eyes trail her as she hurries to her bedroom and closes the door. As silence settles in the flat, I let out a loud sigh and slump back against the couch. The past few weeks have been emotionally charged and today was the icing on the cake, pun intended. But now that we’ve talked, things are looking up.
It’s all I’ve wanted since I walked into the beach house in Mahabalipuram and saw my first love glaring at me.
Twenty-Four. Try this on for size
Patrick
Then
“It’s not the end of the world,” I mutter to myself as I stare out at the empty field in front of me. “Just another loss. It’s fine.”
It’s not fine. Not really. This was supposed to be the moment that proved I was on the right track. After years of trying different things, I’d finally settled into the sport that would change my life. When I first came to Madar, I thought I’d play cricket and dabble in something else. I believed, like my father and grandfather, that would be what I enjoyed.
Then I discovered field hockey—sadly we don’t have enough ice in this country to play ice hockey—and my life changed.
So for the last two years, that’s what I’ve been playing. Training, perfecting, making sure my moves are right, that I know all the rules and I’m eligible for so much more. Today was about showcasing my talent and skills to the outsiders who came to watch the various matches happening at camp. And I failed.
Once every summer, we host our own version of the Olympics or Asian Games. Where all the kids at the Madar Summer Sports Camp participate in a competition with our families, coaches from around the country and sports legends are invited to watch. It was daunting the first year, but now I like the rush it gives me. This was supposed to be my year, when I’d step onto the field and play the best damn hockey of my life.
I did, but my team still lost. We got one goal and I had nothing to do with it. I assisted and defended my heart out, but it was still not enough. I’m glad my parents couldn’t make it—my baby sister, Nina, is only four months old and Amma can’t travel with her—because I would have been even more embarrassed. And they would have been disappointed. This way only I get to know just how badly I played.
I sigh at the rustling and approaching footsteps and shake my head. “I want to be alone.”
“I know, but I thought you might be hungry.”
A bundled up cloth napkin appears in front of me. It opens when I grab it and my smile widens at the chocolate chip muffins stored inside.
“How did you get these?”
“I know people in the kitchen and also traded some chores.”
“You didn’t have to do this, you know?”
“I wanted to. Okay, I’m gonna head back. Promised to help with sports day clean up.”
“Wait—” I snag her hand and tug her forward so she’s in my line of sight. “—wanna share these with me?”
Tamara’s face lights up, but she tilts her head to the side. “I thought you wanted to be alone?”
“I like being alone with you.”
