I consider bringing it up now, not as a one-up to her as I initiallythought, but as an attempt to lay it all out, but this is the first time Priti’s hearing me out. She might not take my knowing about her secret well, and the last thing I want to do is ruin the moment.
If things are better with us after tonight, she might one day tell me about it herself.
“Sometimes I wish we could just turn back time and go back to how we used to be,” I find myself saying. I have Srishti now, butPritiused to be my best friend once. The kind of best friend you could talk about your queerness with. “I wish I hadn’t moved at all, because at least then I wouldn’t have lost you.”
Priti sucks in a breath, weighing my words. This is the first time in years that I’ve confessed to her how much she meant to me, how I would’ve undone my move in a heartbeat if it meant she would’ve still beenmyPriti.
“It’s not your fault, I know,” I continue. “It was unreasonable of me to think you wouldn’t move on and make new friends after I left. I changed too, but I didn’t think that would mean you wouldn’t accept me back.”
Priti’s quiet for a long time, shaken up, marinating in what I’ve said. When she finally speaks, all she says is this: “But you had so many new friends.”
“Are you saying that because of the pictures Mummy sent to Mausi?”
Priti doesn’t respond directly to that, but what she says confirms it. “You were surrounded by people. You were so popular.”
“They were pictures of me with my after-school club. Doesn’t mean any of them were myfriends. I had no friends for the longest time. I ate alone at lunch. No one would talk to me. Even the other Indian Americans at school—I was too Indian for them to stomach. And here, I was too firangi for you. I wasn’t welcome anywhere,incapable of being liked by and befriending other people.”
Priti shuts her eyes, grimacing. “And I thought—I thought you didn’t care about me anymore because you’d made American friends who had cool accents and wore outside clothes to school, whose parents would probably be okay with them being queer...”
“Is that why you stopped calling me?”
“I didn’t want to bother you.” When Priti’s eyes open, they’re glistening with tears. “I thought you had no time for me anymore. And when you didn’t call me either, I started believing it.”
We stare at each other, and I feel like I’ve been gutted open, the roots of our emotions and separation spilling out all at once. I can’t believe the real reason we strayed apart was because of a misunderstanding. And lack of communication.
I want to say so much. I want to tell her how we could’ve had the best friendship, andmore, if she hadn’t distanced herself from me. How she’s the reason we missed out on the most amazing relationship. How every summer wouldn’t have been ruined if not for her.
But that would be wrong. Because it wasn’t just her fault. Sure, she started it, but I shouldn’t have let her drift away from me that first time. I shouldn’t have made myself resent her for her comments. I shouldn’t have bitched about her to Srishti or any of the other cousins behind her back.
I should’ve heard her out, resolved things while I could’ve. She’d been the one to start the fire, but I’d been fanning the flames as well. Relationships are always two-sided. They can’t be built on one-sided effort. It must be equal, collective, and worked on,constantly.
The reason why Priti and I drifted apart wasn’t just because of her. It was because of both of us.
But now’s not the time for regrets. Wedidend up talking about it, albeit eight years late and admittedly not under the best circumstances.
“That doesn’t change what I think,” Priti says, but her voice isn’t harsh. She looks almost as relieved as I feel at the weight of secrets being lifted off our shoulders. “And it’s not because of jealousy. Rudra’s my best friend, and I care about him. A lot.”
“I know.”
“He’s got a big heart, and he’s not the sort of person to hook up or mess around. That’s not him.” Priti’s voice breaks. “Iknowhim.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I know you do.”
“So...?” She looks at me expectantly.
I see it then. I see how badly she wants me to say I’ll back out, that I’ll stop trying to hope for something with Rudra. If I’m being honest with myself, I know exactly what she means. I get why she’s being protective of Rudra.
At the start of this road trip, I had one goal in mind: to have my first kiss. The perfect person for that would’ve been Amrit, but maybe I’ve been building this all up to what I think itshouldbe like rather than letting it play out organically.
And now, with all this tension bubbling up between Rudra and me, maybe I’ve been doing the same thing to him, if only subconsciously. I don’t know if he likes me in any serious way, or what any of this could become, but I can’t keep stringing guys along to satisfy my definition offun. I can’t make this a pattern I inadvertently keep falling into.
Because if I do, I won’t just rope another genuinely good guy into my whole mess—I’ll also ruin things further with Priti.
“I understand,” I say. And I do. I really do. I understand exactly why the possibility of Rudra and me would be wrong.
But then what’s driving me? What’s going to keep me on this trip? What’s going to help me see this through?
Rudra’s voice echoes in my head.
