Page 21 of Don’t Be A Stranger

Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India.

I think at the time Dad and Papi were terrified that I would somehow want to stay, as if being with them wouldn’t be what I wanted anymore. I may have wanted to see where I was born and to get a taste of my culture, but I didn’t want to leave my dads. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.

Even with Dad being white and Papi being Hispanic, they still tried to bring my Indian culture into our home. I owe them so much for the knowledge I do have of my Indian roots.

Papi would make me Indian cuisine—although I’m now realizing he probably should’ve taught me how to make it instead of just setting the plate down in front of me—and Dad would hum “Chanda Hai Tu, Mera Suraj Hai Tu.” As I got older, he learned how to say the words with me, so now we mindlessly sing the lullaby. We even had a closet full of Bollywood movies that I watched religiously.

My parents tried. They really did but sometimes I can’t help but feel like a fraud. Like the color of my skin or the place where I was born isn’t enough for me to claim that I’m Indian.

Sometimes I feel out of place. Like a sore thumb that never quite blends in no matter how many times I try to shape myself into the proper mold.

I go back and forth with the feeling of having the knowledge that my parents chose me. They didn’t even know me. I was only a few weeks old when I was adopted, but they picked me like they somehow knew I would make a perfect addition to their family.

“Maybe someday I’ll be able to do that for you,” River admits and I want to tell him that I would never expect him to do that, although having him come to India with me this time would honestly mean the world to me.

And who knows, maybe we can visit the rest of his family in Korea.

I smile and find myself wanting to move closer to River instead of sitting across from him, but instead I rip off a piece of naan and dip it in our butter sauce. It may not be the best, but River and I were raised not to waste food. We’re not going to start now.

“Maybe next time we should do Korean cuisine.” I’m about to suggest that maybe with Bethany being Japanese, she can teach him some childhood recipes if River isn’t down for Korean food, but my first suggestion only makes him scoff.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what I want to do, Summer. I have PTSD from my mom hitting me with a rubber slipper because I didn’t cut the cabbage right for kimchi.”

“I mean it is serious business.”

River shrugs. “Yeah, well Bora is the one that got the cooking gene. Clearly.” He gestures toward our food. “And Dae got…well, he got the brains and according to my parents, I got the disappointment gene.” River chuckles, trying to make light of what he just admitted.

I could tell River all I want that he doesn’t have to let the words of his parents cut him up and tear him apart from the inside, but I think every awful, untrue thing his parents have spoken are just far too stuck to the walls inside his brain.

Maisie and Orion eventually end the class. Bianca and I exchange numbers before heading out, and my heart does a backflip when River holds the door for me. I should be used to the gesture by now but somehow it never gets old.

On instinct, I link my arm with River’s, allowing myself the familiar closeness.

He turns his head to look at me as we walk to his car. There’s a soft, content smile on his face. “Thanks for coming with me tonight, Summer.”

“Thanks for inviting me. I had my doubts but this was…fun.”

More than fun.

I always seem to remember who I am when I’m with him and I selfishly want more of it. More of him.

We stand near River’s car and I stop him from opening the passenger side door to let me in. River looks at my hand that rests on top of his before bringing his attention back to my eyes.

I don’t give him time to say anything.

“I feel like we don’t hang out anymore.”

There. I said it. It’s out in the air and there’s no taking it back.

Before our kiss, I know that we were just busy. Me with schoolwork and practice, River with working and taking on any shift he could. But even then, we would always make an effort to hang out. Or at least talk on the phone. Even a quick text was common when we simply just didn’t have the time.

We have moments like this where we seem fine and back to the normal us, but then as if we remember the taste of each other’s lips, the awkwardness fills the space between us again.

I just miss my best friend.

Now it feels like we’ve been avoiding each other and I’m not sure what to do with that. We’re in uncharted territory here.

River watches me for a moment. His eyes scan my face, looking for something that I’m not quite aware of.