“What are we waiting around here for, then?” Priti gets to her feet. “Let’s go.”
As Priti marches away, Rudra’s and my eyes meet, and we exchange a knowing glance, which is so new to me, because Rudra’s not someone I would look at like we’re sharing a secret. But since he doesn’t know why Priti’s so eager to get to Goa either, that’s one thing we have in common.
The sight of Priti opening the door to the back seat of the car breaks me right out of my thoughts. Before I know it, I’m racing across the food mall to her, past Rudra, who jumps out of my way in surprise.
“You’re supposed to be navigating!” I grab the door and slam it shut before Priti can get in.
Priti snatches her hand away just in time. “What the fuck, Krishna? You nearly broke my fingers!”
“The back seat’s mine.”
“Says who?”
“Says the owner of this car.” I point to Rudra, who walks up, sighing.
Priti tries to wrench the door handle out of my grip, but I stay put, matching her glare with my own. I’m acting like a ten-year-old, but I’m not giving up the back seat privileges without a fight. Especially not after how she spoke to me at the petrol pump.
“Get out of my way, Krishna,” Priti says, fisting her hands by her sides. “Before I hit you.”
“No.”
“Ruds!”
Rudra pauses on his way into the driver’s seat. “What?” He thought he was being real smooth sneaking into the car. It’s laughable.
“Tell her it’sherturn to navigate.”
“I’m not getting into this.”
“Then why did you get involved earlier, bitch?”
“Becauseyouwere the one being a bitch.”
Priti uses her shoulder to try to butt me out of the way, but I stay put, tightening my grip on the handle. She stamps her foot in frustration. “This isn’t fair! I already did my turn.”
“Fine,” I say. “You want the back seat?”
“Yes,” she says through her teeth.
I lift my chin. “Then apologize to me.”
“Apologize to you forwhat?”
“For what you said earlier.”
Priti crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not apologizing for that.”
“Great. The back seat’s mine, then.”
Priti glares at me for a whole minute before Rudra sighs, speaking up, “Just apologize to her, Priti.”
“I thought you weren’t getting into this?”
Rudra raises his hands defensively. “I just want to be on my way again.”
I expect Priti to take the front seat just so she can avoid apologizing to me, and I prepare myself for the mix of glee at retaining my back seat privileges and feeling terrible that Priti doesn’t even know how much she hurt me, or maybe shedoesknow but doesn’t give a—
“I’m sorry.”
