Chapter Six
KIRAN
Sonam: He could have been a serial killer.
This is déjà vu, Kiran thought.
Kiran: Not a serial killer. A really nice guy.
Payal: Was he cute? Any prospects for us?
Kiran: I did mention American, right? So none for me.
Payal: Okay, then answer the first part. Cute?
Sonam: Always the first concern.
Akash: Why am I on this thread? I don’t need to hear this.
Kiran: Remember that time Akash was into that magic show?
Akash: It was King Arthur! “That magic show.” Listen to yourself.
Kiran: He looks a little like the guy on it.
Sonam: He belongs on a magic show?
Akash: IT WAS A SHOW ABOUT KING ARTHUR.
Payal: Go play with your wand, Akash.
Sonam: Don’t encourage him. He’ll find someone to play with his wand for him.
Akash: I hate you all.
Kiran tried not to giggle at the thread of text messages flowing between the group the day after she and Nash had hung out. At various points in the week, sometimes with a serious problem and sometimes with a funny story, the thread titled “CMC” on her phone would blow up with message after message between the four friends.
She had mentioned she was craving bagels that she and a new friend in her apartment building had discussed—but at the mention of the word he, this seemingly innocuous story suddenly had sparked a fire of intrigue in her best friends.
She tried to think about how Nash looked to accurately describe him.
His eyes were blue—the kind of teal-blue color that one saw in photos of the Caribbean but were never quite convinced actually existed. They were deeply and widely set, which hid the brilliance until Kiran had locked eyes with him last night.
His fine nose was somewhat dainty, but when he smiled, his strong jawline became more apparent, and suddenly, there was nothing forgettable about his face.
It was his smile, if anything, that she would eventually tell Payal about. He had the kind of smile that showed an entire row of perfect teeth, with full lips, the bottom one more prominent than his top.
His dirty blond hair didn’t appear to cooperate much with what he was trying to get it to do, keep it off his forehead. It wasn’t a clean cut, as though he’d let it grow out an inch longer than he should have and now the front flopped onto his forehead if he didn’t run his fingers through it.
Yes. Nash was attractive. There was no question.
But she was only telling Payal because she asked.
Kiran found her mind drifting to that evening more often than she would have expected, flashing back to the ease with which Nash spoke to her and how it never felt like they were strangers, despite having met only moments before she invited him up to her place. Quietly, she hoped to see him around the building—perhaps on their way out to work or in after a long day—but days passed, and Nash was getting further away.
But lo and behold, sometimes when one wished, the universe gave.
Two weeks after that memorable evening, Kiran stretched out on her love seat, wanting to read, but the untouched book sat in her lap. She stared at her phone instead, mindlessly scrolling through Bollywood news stories. The latest actress to make it in Hollywood had recently married an American superstar, and Indian gossip rags were being surprisingly accepting about it.
A knock at the door prompted Kiran to jump, dropping her phone in the process.
Not recalling any appointments and thinking the CMC were all busy tonight with work or plans, she went to the door tentatively. She hoped it wasn’t a solicitor. She was terrible at getting out of long, drawn-out sales pitches and squirmed through them instead.
The person on the other side of the door was far more welcome.
“Nash!” She tried not to sound too relieved, but it came out as a squeak.
He was wearing a red dress shirt and black dress pants held by a black leather belt. His sleeves were rolled up, and it added a certain carelessness to his otherwise formal outfit. His hair was as disheveled as it was the night they’d met.
“Hi! Do you want to go out tonight?”
“Like…?”
“Like dinner?”
No. No, no, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen. She wanted a friend in the building. Had she given him signals that she was interested? Had she blown this friendship somehow? See, this was why she should never be nice. Wasn’t there a rule about asking someone on a date the night of said date too? A three-day rule? She could have sworn Payal mentioned something.
She was not available. At least not for an American white guy who her parents would never be able to relate to.
She faltered, her grin disappearing in the race of thoughts. “I… Oh…well, Nash, I’m sorry… I don’t date. I mean, I’m not dating right now. I mean, I can’t—”
His eyes widened at her flustered response. Finally, when she’d sufficiently made a fool of herself, he laughed. “No, I didn’t mean… It’s my first day off in a while. I wanted to go out and do something. I wasn’t asking you out.”
“Oh.”
Well, now she felt stupid.
“Not that you aren’t worth asking out. I think you’re wonderful, of course. But that wasn’t my intention. I wanted food and thought company would be more fun.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’m not high on myself… I just—”
“You aren’t very good with being flustered, are you?”
She stared at him for a second. “No.”
“I couldn’t tell.”
Despite his easy manner, she could sense the heat rising in her chest and cheeks, and she fidgeted in the doorway, wishing she could disappear. How could she have jumped to that conclusion?
“Kiran?”
Her eyes snapped up to him.
“Dinner? Would you like to go?” He gazed at her expectantly.
“When?”
“I’m going to change. Can we leave in ten minutes?”
She took a deep breath, collecting herself. “Absolutely.”
The restaurant Nash wanted to go to was down the street. Kiran considered shooting Sonam a text to join them, since she worked nearby at Mount Sinai and Nash was looking for more friends anyway, but finally decided against it. Her instincts usually led her right, and for whatever reason, they shouted at her to go alone.
“How was your day?” Nash asked as he strolled up to her.
The red dress shirt and belted dress pants were now replaced by a pair of jeans and a black Henley. His sneakers and casual clothes seemed to fit his personality much better. Kiran’s fingers were crossed that the restaurant wasn’t too fancy, and she was pacified by Nash’s casual appearance. She didn’t feel out of place in her paisley-patterned blue-and-orange pencil skirt and blue tank top as they stepped inside the industrial chic establishment. Mason jars served as glasses at each place setting. The lights hung on coppery metal fixtures, reminiscent of a rusting water pipe. White wood paneling and exposed wooden floors added to the rustic vibe.
They were seated outside, on benches of yellow wood that blocked the sidewalk and allowed them to view both the hipster facade of the restaurant and the street with equal interest. Kiran’s eyes drifted to the eclectic crowd walking by—an older woman dressed in neon leggings, walking her dog, and a couple in suits, holding hands.
Kiran loved summers in the city, especially now that it was alive again, and this night was no different.
“I’ve heard the bucket of bird is really good here if you like chicken.” Nash broke the silence as he examined the menu.
“I’m vegetarian, actually!” She braced for the inevitable question.
“Oh, do you mind if I get something with meat, then?”
Okay, that wasn’t it. “Oh. No. No, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure? You don’t sound it.”
She laughed at her transparency. “I’m sure. I was expecting another question.”
“Whether it’s religious or your choice?” He grinned, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“Yup.”
“Well?”
“Both. Started off one way and then became my way of life.”
“Cool.”
She felt a lurch of pleasant surprise at the way he simply accepted her answer without further questioning or, worse, a doubtful glance at a seemingly strange belief from an unfamiliar place. Whether it was her Indian accent or the color of her skin, she was so used to feeling outside the circle that Nash’s acceptance was like a hug.
“I tried to choose a place that had mac and cheese.” Nash smiled.
“Well, that’s kind of thoughtful, thank you!” Kiran touched her heart.
“Don’t count on it every time, though. I hear New York pizza is a thing, and if you put macaroni and cheese on that, I’m putting the kibosh on being friends.”
“Pizza is a thing. There is nothing like it.”
“I should probably make a list of things to check out, huh?”
An impulse simmered in her belly to tell him about her list—to confess that she wanted to be adventurous and bold—and maybe she wanted those things with him, because a new friend would be novel too.
“I— So my friends and I made these lists in college—and when we moved to the city, we had grand plans to do all the things on them. Payal found them the other day, and I didn’t do very many of my things.” It came out in one breath. Smooth.
“Like a list of adventures?”
“Exactly. I feel like I’ve been carrying it around as a reminder to be a little more conscious about getting out, especially now. We were cooped up for so long, and I took it all—being here—for granted.” She pulled out the neatly folded piece of aged paper and held it in front of her.
“Well, let’s hear it, then.”
Her walls went up before she could stop them—and she ended up picking two of the most simple items. “I want to play at an American arcade. And I want to ride a horse.”
“I don’t know where you’ll find a horse in the city…”
“Don’t pee in my Cheerios!” It was Sonam’s favorite phrase.
He glanced up with an amused expression. “Okay, no peeing in food items. What else?”
Kiran read the rest of the list she’d been pondering for the last two weeks but left out Ma and Baba and dancing under the stars. They were childish fancies. “Do you have any things you want to try?”
Nash opened his mouth.
“Wait! I have a notepad. Let’s write them down!”
“You carry around a notepad? Do you have one of those bags like Mary Poppins?”
“I’m a nerd, what can I say?” She reached into her bag again, produced a small floral stationery pad with the words To Do printed on the top, and placed it gently on the table. She clicked a pen and pushed it toward him.
“Aptly labeled stationery,” he commented.
“Indeed. Continue.”
“I’d like to go to Top of the Rock at night. I’ve heard it’s a great view. Of course, I’d love to check out the Brooklyn Bridge. I know—super basic and touristy. I also want to try a real New York pizza.” He wrote them down as he recited them out loud.
Kiran observed his small block lettering. He was left-handed, and somehow that captivated her, like a poignant detail on a painting that changed the entire meaning.
“Do you have more that you want to add to your list?” Nash asked.
“A food festival in Brooklyn—I’ve done it once, but it was when I first came to New York. I told myself I’d do it every summer, but it’s been a total fail. A quiet walk along the Upper East Side—which I’ve done plenty but is still one of my favorite things. The Bronx Zoo. I actually haven’t done that.”
Kiran noticed the tiny frown that wrinkled Nash’s brow for a millisecond, but it was gone before it was really even there.
“What about non-New Yorker things?” he said.
“Are you going to write those down too?” she teased.
“I’m curious! Making this list is causing me to think.”
“You’ll laugh. Most of them are silly”
“Try me.”
Her instinct was to change the subject—opening up about all the things she wanted to do to someone new was like exposing a nerve. Vulnerability with strangers wasn’t her strong suit.
But then serendipitous optimism filled her. Maybe Nash would push her to look up and do the things she hadn’t yet.
“Promise you won’t tease me?”
“Cross my heart.”
“All those little things you do on the spur of the moment that make you feel alive every time you think of them—a night of chatter under the stars, or dancing under them. Those are things I’d do. They aren’t momentous or as cool as selling all your things and traveling the planet for a year, but they are the experiences I’d hold close. Adventures I’d want to have.”
Nash smiled. It was the most peaceful, accepting smile Kiran had ever seen.
“There’s nothing silly about those dreams, Kiran. Everyone has things they want to chase down because they fill something inside of them… Those are yours.”
“Tell me about you. Do you have any dreams beyond New York City adventures?”
“I’ve only been out of the country once—can you believe it? I’ve always wanted to go to another continent. And I’d love to start a new tradition with someone that I keep up. My best friend and I used to write down the best thing that happened to us that year on New Year’s Eve, and we put it in a jar.”
“That’s a really sweet tradition. You don’t do it anymore?”
“We stopped during my freshman year of college. My mom over— She died,” he said quickly. “And I guess college got to us too. We felt too old to continue doing it. But I’d love to have a new tradition to keep up.”
“Well, it sounds like you will. And we have a great list of fun things to try now!”
“You should write some new ideas down too. It’s only fair.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
As she finished writing, Akash’s voice spoke in her head. It’s kind of nice to think about coming home to someone and knowing they’re yours to share a life with. After this dinner with Nash where she had laughed and a little sparkle had shown itself in her life, a pull at her heart made her write one more thing down on unexpected impulse. She also didn’t want Nash to know this one.
Fall in love.
“Did you remember one more thing?” Nash asked, eyeing her with curiosity.
“Woman of mystery, remember?” Her eyes twinkled.
“I’m texting you now. If we’re free, we go. Deal?” Nash asked.
“Deal.” She grinned.
“All right, give me your number, and let’s do this.”
It was foreign reciting her number to an attractive guy outside of work or acquaintances of her friends—but perhaps it was time to shake life up and make some friends outside of the CMC.