It was one thing for Riya to fight fires, but not Hetal. Anger built up inside him—a feeling he could actually understand. Anger at Riya was familiar, sadly comfortable. All those other feelings were new and overwhelming. He got out of his car and slammed the door. Riya looked up.
“Hetal was filling out an application for firefighting today,” he said, as if they were continuing a conversation. Scout ran to him. He unleashed her and picked her up, holding her close. She calmed him, but not enough.
“Okay. Well, that’s a first step. Needs to be done.” She turned her attention back to her bike.
“No, it does not need to be done.”
“If she wants to be a firefighter, it does.” She picked up a wrench and made adjustments to her bike.
“How about you tell her how dangerous it is? Make her not want to do it. Tell her how it’s an unnecessary risk, instead of telling her what a hero you are.”
She turned to face him, scowling. “I didn’t tell her I was a hero.”
“She has always looked up to you. Remember that cat? And how you punched that kid in seventh grade because he was teasing someone? You’re a freaking legend to her. And besides, you told her you saved a girl, didn’t you? That you went into a fire and pulled her out? To her, that’s heroic,” Dhillon finished breathlessly.
“The girl’s foot was broken. I had to carry her out. It’s part of the job.”
Dhillon could swear she was being extra calm just to irritate him.
“Oh, yeah? Did you tell her the rest of the job? About the smoke in your lungs, how that burns? Or how about the heat? How it’s so hot you swear you’ll melt any minute? No, you did not. You didn’t bother to tell her all that, because you want to be the hero. You want to save everyone. Well, how about you save her by discouraging the whole thing?”
“You know, Dhillon, I always knew you were overly cautious, but I never took you to be closed-minded.” She put away the tool and stood to face him, sunglasses hiding her eyes. But he didn’t need to see her eyes to know that they radiated defiance, just like the rest of her.
“The only closed mind here is yours.” Dhillon threw his words at her like weapons.
“She’s going to do this, either way. I might as well help her.” She folded her arms across her body.
“She never even had the idea until she found out you were a firefighter.” He wanted to move closer to her, to take off those sunglasses and see her eyes. But no good would come of that. If this was going to be her stance, they could never be together anyway.
“Are you sure about that, Dhillon? Because she was in that fire, too, as a child. She lost her father, same as you. Her life changed drastically that day. Not just yours.” Riya dropped the rag and gave him her full attention.
“She was five.”
“Old enough for memories.” She shrugged.
Dhillon stepped back, exasperated. “Seriously, don’t you even care about her? It’s one thing to not care about yourself, but dragging her along? You know that she worships you. She’ll listen to you.Tell her no.”
“You know what? I do care about her, and that’s why I won’t do that.” She did that little chin tilt that told him she would never back down. The conversation was over.
He started walking away from her, still holding Scout. “If she does this, you’re responsible.”
Still fuming at Riya, his stomach clenching in fear and worry for his sister, in addition to the fear and worry he had for Riya, Dhillon stared at his house. All of his exhaustion was gone, replaced by adrenaline pumping through his body. Screw it. He hooked Scout to her leash and got back in his car, sent a text to Ryan and headed for the basketball court.
“Dude.” Ryan was waiting for him, basketball in hand. “You didn’t even change. You’re going to play in scrubs?” The evening was warm, and the humidity still lingered.
“Just throw the damn ball.” Dhillon took off his shirt and tossed it on the ground.
Ryan barely offered a reaction. They’d known each other since grade school, almost as long as Dhillon had known Riya. Which meant Ryan knew almost everything about Dhillon—most importantly, that he had always been in love with Riya.
“Okay. So it’s gonna be one ofthosegames?” He threw the ball. “Got it.” Ryan was taller and leaner than Dhillon, and he had played basketball in high school.
Dhillon caught the ball as he walked onto the court. They were at the local high school, and the place was strangely deserted. A few kids played soccer in the distance, but the court was completely theirs. The evening sun still heated up his bare back, but he barely noticed with all the warring thoughts in his head.
He started dribbling as he got close to the net. Ryan tried to block him, so Dhillon turned his back and dribbled backward. He backed them closer to the net, keeping the ball away from Ryan before finally turning and taking his shot. It was wild, and he missed by a mile.
Dhillon chased after the ball, returning to a puzzled-looking Ryan. “What’s going on?”
Dhillon shook his head and threw him the ball. “Just play.”
