Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Devi, I'm sorry I lied to you. I just didn't know what to do. I mean, I really don't want to break up..."

"Then don't!" I reply, hoping that maybe Des would have the cojones to not break what was a really good thing, at least in my opinion.

"I can't just go against my mom," he replies, his argument getting weaker as he says it.

"I go against my mom, like, 40 times a day. It's fine," I reply.

"Look, Devi, you're cool and all, but like, dating you isn't worth pissing off my mom. I mean, she still pays for my phone," he shrugs.

I see the iced coffee in front of him, and it's so tempting to take it and throw it in his face. Instead, I focus on what I was told his mother said to him, "Do you even know why I was on that bathroom floor? The last time I had a spring concert for orchestra, my father died, Des!"

"Dude, that's fucked up if you're breaking up with her for a totally reasonable reaction," Addison comments.

"Thank you, Addison."

"And your mom thinks you're 'too young' to deal with all of this? But I'm not too young to have a DEAD father? If you need to be shielded by your mother from life, then I don't need to be with a baby like you anyways."

"Devi Vishwakumar, how DARE you speak to my son like that?" Rhyah says. Oh great.

"She's right, Mom," Des replies, "And you know what? You aren't protecting me from anything! Not when you sent me to that cruise ship after dad died instead of letting me grieve because you didn't want that to hinder my studies. You know what else you missed on? Therapy! The cruise ship had a therapist, mom, and just because you think people who need therapists are not worth your time doesn't mean you can project that onto us. And you conveniently forgot to mention that the whole reason Devi even saw her dead dad was because her father had DIED during the last concert he was part of."

"Have you ever seen your dad after he died?" I ask.

"Sometimes," he admits, "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blown you off all week, and I don't think I can apologize enough that. But I don't want to be like that anymore. Could you possibly give me another chance?"

Des had mentioned his dad had passed away a while back after I told him about mine, and he seemed okay then - a persona. Nevertheless, he finally apologized, somewhat, and stood up to his mother.

"I will...if you don't do that again."

He nods, gesturing for me to sit down. Rhyah seems exasperated, but with all the faces staring at us, she wisely holds back and leaves. Fabiola sits with us, but eventually her and Addison move to their own table.

"Your mom's probably going to have a lot of words for you, won't she?"

"Yeah. But I'll be ready for them."

"And if she cuts off your phone bill payment?"

"I can pay for it. Dad made a trust fund for me years ago to be accessed when I'm 18. I can pay for it through that, at least until I can get a job."

Chapter Text

After a couple of hours at the coffee shop, Fabiola and Addison decide to go watch a movie, so Des ends up driving me home.

"Are you going to be okay at home?" I ask.

He shrugs, "I think so. No matter what happens, though, Mom can't try that again."

"Good luck," I tell him, "And goodnight."

He kisses me lightly, "Goodnight."

I unlock the front door, and turn to wave to Des so he can go. It's kind of...exhilarating, being able to say good night to my boyfriend right outside my own house.

When I go inside, I'm surprised to see both Kamala and Mom in the kitchen, "Kamala, what are you doing here? Weren't you coming for dinner tomorrow?"

"Nalini Aunty called me over," she says, hugging me, "I'm sorry, Devi."

"What are you talking about?"

"Rhyah was here a while ago, and she told me that Des broke up with you. Are you doing okay, beti?"

"Des didn't break up with me, Mom," I reply, and I see Mom sigh, relieved. I explain, "Rhyah Aunty tried to make him, but he stood up for himself. Rhyah Aunty thinks I'm crazy and that Des deserves better than me."

"What?" she says, angry.

"I saw Dad in the audience before the show and I had a breakdown, and Rhyah Aunty helped me. That's why she told him to break up with me. Maybe I am crazy, mom."

She takes me into her arms, "Devi, you are not crazy. Your therapist will probably tell you that it's perfectly natural to remember someone you've lost, especially when it's the same event that was where he died. I see him everywhere, Devi. One time, I thought I saw him cut me off in traffic, and I followed that man home."

"Damn," I reply, and we both chuckle, "But what if it happens again, and he really does break up with me? What if nobody loves me because I'm too much?"

"Hey, if he breaks up with you, that's his loss, and you're better off," Kamala cuts in.

"What she said," Mom nods, "Oh, Devi, listen to me. You're never too much, and you're always enough. And I really hope Des is, but if he isn't, one day you'll find someone who loves you exactly as you are, just like I do."

"I love you too, Mom," I say, and she hugs me closer.

"Now, why don't we go to the living room, order pizza, and watch the Property Brothers install a waterfall island?"

I nod, "Okay. Wait, did you say order pizza?"

"Indian pizza only," she adds.

"Mom," I complain.

"Unless you or Kamala want to cook," she asks.

"No thanks," we chime.

Later that night, Des texts me.

Des: Hey, I think things are going to be okay between my mom and I. She told me that she's been looking into getting her own therapist when I got home.

Devi: I'm glad, and really?

Des: Yep. I don't want to spill all of the details, but mom told me that she was trying so hard to be strong for me that she started to convince herself that she shouldn't be openly grieving. My Ammumma told my mom that she was crazy for seeing my dad everywhere, apparently, and well...

Devi: Wow.

Des: Yeah. I guess it's a tradition to be hyperfocused on having the nuclear family on that side of the family, to the point where if there's been any losses in the family, they basically immediately marry someone else to fill the role while the kids are still young.

Devi: That sucks.

Des: Definitely. I think mom has a lot to work on, but I guess I can't blame her that much for growing up in that environment?

Devi: Of course.

Des: I'll talk to you tomorrow. My AP Macro teacher is making us take a final before the AP test, so I need to cram some studying into tonight.

Devi: Yeesh, don't they normally just let you skip it if you take it?

Des: Not at Hartman Hill. They'll replace your grade with the grade equivalent of your AP score if you do better than you did on the final, though.

Devi: What was your worst AP Score?

Des: I got a 4 on AP CS Principles. You?

Devi: All 5's so far.

Des: If you get more 5's than I do, I'll take you out to dinner where I know John McEnroe frequents when he's in the city.

Devi: And if you get more 5's than I do...

Des: You have to watch all the cheesy TikTok tv shows with me.

Devi: Ugh, those are the worst!

Devi: What if we get the same amount of 5's?

Des: Then we do both things.

Devi: Fine, but if we get the same number, we're just watching ONE cheesy TikTok show.

Des: Deal. Goodnight!

Devi: Goodnight!

Someone knocks on my door, "Come in!"

Kamala walks in and sits on my bed to face me, "Hey. I'm sorry I've been a bit AWOL lately."

"Hey, you've got lab rotations and you don't live here anymore. It's no big deal," I shrug.

She nods, "Well, Nalini Aunty told me that Rhyah caught you and Des making out on his bed with your top halfway off. Were you guys trying to have sex?"

"...Yeah. Rhyah was leaving for groceries and I guess it seemed like the right time."

"Are you sure?" she asks, and I know she's thinking about our conversation in her room last year.

I nod, "I know I'm still 17, but Des...he's different. He seems like the right guy for me, Kamala."

"I'm glad you think so, Devi, but think about this - even if you think he's the right guy for you, and hey, maybe he is - you're not even 18 yet. If it happens, then it happened, and I hope that it's as beautiful as you seem to hope it'd be. But give it time, okay? Your first time is a big deal. Don't lose it to someone you've known for just about eight or nine months."

"Didn't you sleep with Steve pretty early on?"

She checks to make sure no one's in the hall, "You can't tell anyone this, okay?"

I nod.

"Steve wasn't my first. There was this guy during my university years. We waited...right until graduation. It was great, but we were going our separate ways."

"Damn, Kamala!"

"Waiting made the moment worth it enough that when we parted ways, it wasn't quite as hard as I thought it'd be. It might not be for everyone, and I'm not saying wait until marriage, but a healthy amount of time."

I nod. She gives me a hug, "If you want to talk about it more, you know where to find me. There's no judgement."

"Thanks Kamala."

Chapter Text

"Remind me again why we're playing Brain Cranker?" Des whispers to me.

"Because we beat them in Monopoly and Life and they need a couple's win," I whisper back.

"We can hear you, you know," Fab says as she sculpts a clue out of clay.

"But you're not wrong," Addison says, "Why don't we play something else? Maybe this is more of a 'more than four people' kind of game."

"What about Heads Up? I have all the packs," Des says, pulling his phone out.

"Did your mom pay for them too?" I tease.

"Just the ones the family WhatsApp group named," he replies, "I think my Ammumma will buy anything that even mentions Vidya Balan or Amitabh Bachchan, so we have a running list."

"What's the most expensive thing that your grandma bought?"

"She once bought a $500 sari from a store just because she heard Amitabh Bachchan visited it with his wife, and they both touched it."

"Was it at least a nice sari?" Fab asks. Des pulls up a photo of her wearing it on his phone and shows it to us.

"Damn, your grandma has good taste," I comment.

"She definitely does. She sent me this shirt for my 17th birthday," Des says, showing a picture of the shirt he wore the night we met.

"Nice!" Addison replies.

We go through a few rounds of Heads Up, with Addison and Fabiola beating us in cumulative score by 5 points. They both rocked the historical facts and animal sounds sections, while Des and I rocked the Bollywood, foreign language, and science sections. Fab has to leave around 9:30, and Addison follows.

"Hey, do you think we can talk before you go?"

"Sure, what's up?" he asks.

I lead him to my room, and we sit on my bed, "Have you heard of the Shrubland School?"

"I have. That friend of mine who wouldn't talk to me for a while last semester actually went there this year. What about it?"

"My school sends in an application for the best student in the junior class, which was me this year, and I got in."

"Devi, that's amazing! Have you visited?" he says with genuine excitement.

"I have, and it's so cool. I sat in on a couple of classes and I really felt like I was surrounded by my people. I think I want to go."

"That's great!"

"It is?" I ask, "I mean, there's already a 5.5 hour distance between Stanford and LA, and Colorado's a few states away."

"Devi, do you like me as much as I like you?"

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate how much you like me?"

"10."

"Same, 10."

"Then I think we can make it work. We have Amtrak, planes, and the Internet to keep in touch."

"What if you meet another cute Indian girl in college who loves debate?"

"What if you meet another cute Indian guy at Shrubland who loves debate?" he replies, "It could happen to either of us, but I don't want you to give up this opportunity on the case of a possibility. Regardless, I want to be with you for as long as you want me to be."

"I appreciate that," I reply honestly.

"But you're still worried?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

"Not about us. I think this conversation helped. It's more about my mom. It's been hard since Dad died, but we've gotten a lot closer in recent times and I don't think I'm ready to leave her yet."

"If it helps, I think you have everything you need to get into Princeton already. If you don't want to leave her, maybe..."

"What?"

"My school has this scholarship for students who get into schools like the senior prep schools like Shrubland but decide not to go. It's a little more pretentious, but you'll be surrounded by nerds like us," he suggests.

"I don't really want to leave Fab or Eleanor behind."

"But you would be if you go to school in Colorado. I don't think either of them would be anything but supportive, no matter what you choose, and that goes for me too."

"Thanks, Des," I say. He smiles and leans in to kiss me, "So, when's your graduation again?"

"Friday. Will your mom be able to make it too?"

"I can ask, but I don't know how willing she is to sit next to your mom."

"I mean, they did make it through a whole dinner yesterday," Des points out, "I'm surprised my mom was willing to even step in to your house, considering how your mom told her off the last time they saw each other. I don't think my mom wants to visit a dermatologist's office in California ever again after your mom threatened her."

"Only because Pati wanted both of them to help her contact Mr. Kulkarni's parents to talk about getting him and Kamala engaged. And they didn't actually speak to each other unless they had to. I actually wouldn't be surprised if mom convinced all the dermatologists she knows to not sell Rhyah any dermatology products, since they still take the Hippocratic Oath."

"What's up with that, anyway? Didn't you say they'd been dating all of a year?"

"Doesn't matter to Pati. He's learning about his culture from her at a fast pace so she's got it in her mind that once she thinks he's ready, she's going to set up their marriage."

"That seems like such an Indian grandma thing to do," he comments.

"At least she hasn't gone after you yet. Do you think she'll at least wait until after I graduate?"

"Only if Kamala and your teacher haven't gotten engaged yet. If they have, I'm sure it'll be her priority after they get married."

"Do you think we'll be together for long enough for Pati to want that from us?" I ask, curious.

"I hope so," he says, and I kiss him.

After talking to Mom and deciding to stay for my senior year, I ask her if I can go to Paxton's grad party.

"Are you taking Des with you?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. But Fabiola, Eleanor, and Aneesa will be there too," I reply.

She looks at her watch and then nods, "Okay, but I expect you to be back by the time I'm home. Your pati and I are going to see RRR at 8."

"You're taking Pati to a movie with Ajay Devgn in it? I thought she never wanted to watch a movie with him after Singham."

"Yes, but Kamala asked me if I can get Pati to cool it with the marriage talk, and you know she focuses entirely on a movie for at least a week after watching it, two weeks if it stars someone she hates. That should give them some breathing room."

"If you say so. I'll be back before you get home, thanks for letting me go!" I say, giving her a quick hug.

I get into Des' car, and figure I should tell him first.

"Hey, so I made my decision about school next year."

"What's your decision?" he asks.

"I'm going to stay here at Sherman Oaks. I don't think I'm ready to leave just yet."

"Well, it's a good thing I bought a year pass for Amtrak, then."

"You thought I was going to choose Sherman Oaks?"

"I figured you might choose it, but I bought a year pass for both LA and Colorado. I can easily get a refund on the other one. I figured it would make it easier for you."

"That's sweet."

When we reach the party, I decide to make the rounds first. Since Des' graduation is tomorrow afternoon, he doesn't want to spend too much time out.

"Congrats!" I say, giving Paxton a quick high five.

"Thanks! It's going to be weird not seeing you around the halls of my school next year, Devi."

"Or laughing about Mr. Shapiro's lectures," I laugh, "Best of luck in Arizona!"

"Same to you for Colorado!"

"Actually, I'm staying. It was a great school, but I'm not ready to leave home yet."

"Understandable. Have you told Eleanor and Fabiola yet?"

"No. I just made my mind up a couple of hours ago."

"You should go tell them. We can get dinner or something this summer before I go. Go enjoy the party," he says, nudging me lightly.

I nod, congratulating him again. I spot Des with Fabiola, Eleanor, and Trent.

"You're graduating tomorrow, right?" Eleanor asks him.

"I am. Congrats on your graduation, Trent."

"Thanks dude, but I actually failed a couple of classes so I'm retaking senior year," Trent says. That explains why Eleanor's so happy.

"That's a...bummer?"

"Nah man, it means I get to spend time with my girl Eleanor next year."

"But it won't be the same without Devi," Fabiola says, hugging me tightly.

"Actually, it will be, because I'm not leaving."

"But it's your dream school!" Eleanor exclaims.

"Well, Princeton is, but I think I'm ready to take a year to get ready for it, you know? Enjoy high school for another year before I hang out with my fellow nerds all the time. And I'd miss you guys."

"Aww, Devi," the girls say, hugging me closely.

I spot Ben with another girl in the corner of the room, "Hey, I'm going to go talk to Ben for a second."

"Is he the guy that you said told you about what my mom told me?"

I nod, "I kinda owe him an apology. I didn't believe that you'd do something like that. Not that you ended up doing it, but his information wasn't wrong."

"Got it. Well, I'll go see if I can find any food. What are the chances of there being dosas at the party?" he asks.

"Only if you got Paxton to let you make them. Pati's been raving to everyone about the dosas you made last week, and Ben, Trent, Fab, Eleanor, and Paxton were all over to study for the history final, so we all heard it," I joke, "His dad made spring rolls and gyoza, though."

"Ooh, sounds good."

I go to Ben's corner, "Hey."

"Hey, David. Uh, this is Margot. She was my tutor, of sorts, for art class."

"Hey," I wave.

"Hey...is your name actually David?"

"Nah, it's Devi. He called me David by accident in 1st grade and then it just stuck, I guess."

"Cool. I'm going to go get a soda," she says, getting up and heading to the kitchen.

"So..."

"I saw you came with Des. I guess I was wrong?"

"Well, you weren't really wrong. Rhyah Aunty said that about me, and until he knew what had led to that, he wasn't really ready to go against his mom. He did, though."

"That's good. I'm glad you're happy."

"Thanks, Ben. What about you and Margot?"

"We're just...friends, I guess?"

"Really? Because you were really happy with her. If you like her, you should go for it," I encourage.

"I guess she did ask me on a date."

"Benjamin! You didn't say no, did you?"

"I said yes."

"Good. I'm happy for you."

"I'm happy for you too, David."

We smile at each other.

"So, heard you got the Shrubland acceptance. Are you going to go?"

I shake my head, "I loved the campus, but I'm not ready to let you be valedictorian that easily."

He laughs, "We'll see."

After hanging out for a while longer, and eating a lot of spring rolls, Des drives me home.

"Do you want to come over for a while? My mom and pati won't be here until at least 11."

"Sure," he says. We go inside my room, and we just talk for a while. He tells me about his actual visit to Stanford, and how I have to come with him to the campus before he moves. We talk about the Indian culture there, and more.

"Des?" I realize.

"Yeah?"

I close the door, "I'm ready."

Chapter Text

When I wake up, I check my phone to see if Des texted, only to find no messages. He moved to campus a couple of weeks ago, and we've been texting every morning, but the last text I got from him was when he wished me a good night on my first day of senior year this past Monday.

Kamala comes in a few minutes later, "Good morning!"

"Kamala? I thought you were meeting us there," I say, hugging her. I haven't seen her since late June, when she and Mr. Kulkarni went to India to visit.

"I was, but I figured we could get coffee and a donut before we get there, so I convinced Nalini Attai and Pati to go on ahead," she says with a mischievous smile. Last year, Kamala and I both went in together and got donuts. Almost got away with it too, but I forgot to wipe off some of the glaze from the corner of my mouth and Mom saw. She was about to say something when Kamala revealed that she got them donuts too, so all was forgiven.

"That sounds good," I admit.

Once I've brushed and showered, she helps me dress in a forest green half-sari and braiding my hair back, which I have to admit looks beautiful, "Is this a new sari?"

"Surprise! I know you tend to favor the color green, so I picked this out for you when I went to Tamil Nadu. And these are from my sisters," she says, opening a jewelry box, with gorgeous jewels.

"Holy shit, they're beautiful," I gasp.

"There's a few more of both from everyone, but we can look at them after we come back," she says. 

When she puts the tikli on my forehead, I notice a flash of something gold on her finger, "Oh my god, Kamala, is that a ring?"

She blushes, "Yeah. That's part of the reason I wanted to go with you. Manish proposed when we went to his dad's hometown in India."

"Wait, so has he met his grandparents now?"

"Both sets. His mom's side was in Chennai, but his dad's side is in Barshi, Maharashtra. He knew about his mom's side, but I think he was raised by his mom so he never knew what ethnicity his dad is. I tracked them down through his dad's Etsy shop and I'm still not quite sure how I managed to keep it a secret. I told him my friend Saanvi lives there and I hadn't seen her in years, which he believed...even though he's met Saanvi when she came to LA last year."

"So how did you go from taking him to Barshi to getting engaged?"

"He was so happy to meet them, and they were so loving to both of us, that he pretty much got down on one knee and asked me right there. I know I've said I'm not ready for marriage yet, but I knew that when I am, I want to be married to Manish, so I said yes."

"That's so sweet. I'm really happy for you, Kamala," I say, hugging her again, "Have you told Mom and Pati?"

"Not yet. I know Pati will want us to have a Nishchayathram, and Manish's dad's family wants us to have a Sakharpuda. We're trying to get visas for everyone to come for the ceremony, so I think we're holding off until that is finalized."

"Maybe you should leave your ring in my jewelry box so you don't have to worry about losing it," I suggest.

"Good idea," she replies, "But I don't want to take it off yet."

"Do you want the gossiping aunties to see?" I ask.

"Good point," she says.

I apply a light layer of makeup while she puts the ring in the box, then goes downstairs to, presumably, let Mr. Kulkarni know.

"Mr. K, it's still weird to see you wearing a jabba kurta," I comment as I go down the stairs.

"I know, but I wore a kurta all the time in Barshi, and I'm getting used to it. You know you can call me Manish now, right?"

"Nah, it's still weird. Maybe when I've graduated," I concede, then offer a fist bump, "Congratulations on the engagement!"

"Thanks!" he says, bumping fists.

"Manish, would you mind making sure you have the coffee ordered in the car?" Kamala asks.

"Uh...sure."

Kamala sits me down on the couch as Mr. Kulkarni heads to his car.

"I know we talked about this a little before the summer started, and I know you went to a party with Des that night when Nalini Attai and Pati watched RRR. Did you...?"

I nod, "I know you told me to wait and make sure I was ready, but that night, I just knew. I don't think I'd ever felt as loved by anyone that wasn't family before Des, and he was so supportive when I was thinking about Shrubland. He even bought year-round Amtrak tickets for both Colorado and LA from Stanford so he could visit regularly."

"That's really sweet of him. Do you still feel that way after? How was the experience for you?"

"I think I feel it even more. He was incredibly gentle and it didn't hurt, surprisingly, at all. We used protection, and I'm all clear. I don't think I'm ready to do it on a regular basis, but if anything came from it, it was that it really opened ourselves up to each other. Is that weird?"

"Not at all. Your first should always be with someone who you know is right, and I'm glad you saw that in Des."

"Thanks, Akka," I say, hugging her.

"Did you just call me your elder sister?" she asks, surprised.

"I guess so," I say, just as surprised. Honestly, it fits her.

"When you said you see me as an elder sister, you really meant it, didn't you?"

"I did. I know you have all those sisters and all, but can I still call you that?"

"You know, I have three Akkas, but I've never been one. All my sisters have been married for years, and the closest one in age to me is six years older. I wouldn't mind having a younger sister," she decides.

"Great," I smile.

A few minutes later, we're on our way to the coffee shop in Mr. K's car. The last time I was in his car, I was in trouble for stealing Des' debate binder, so at least this is better. I check my phone again, and there's still no messages from him. When we park, Mr. K goes in to order the drinks and donuts. I finally give in to my urge and text Des.

Devi: Hey, does Stanford have any cool Ganesh Puja celebrations?

To my surprise, he texts back.

Des: I don't know, but I heard that the LA ones are impossible to get through without coffee and a donut in the Vishwakumar household. Did you get yours?

"How did he know that?" I wonder. 

I nearly jump as my door is opened, "Did someone order a mocha and a glazed donut?"

I look towards my door and immediately unbuckle my seatbelt, "Des!"

He gives the coffee tray to Mr. K and takes me into his arms, kissing me and then hugging me, "Hi!"

"Oh my god, how are you here?"

"There wasn't really anything going on on campus, and I've never missed Ganesh Puja, so I took an Amtrak down here. It's been so hard not telling you. Every time you texted me, I was tempted to tell you 'I'M COMING FOR GANESH PUJA!' to the point where I had to turn off text notifications."

"Did they know?" I ask, looking at Kamala and Mr. K.

"Why do you think you came with us instead of your mom and Pati?" Kamala grins, "Go. Des asked me if he could take you."

"Awesome, thanks Akka!"

We grab our coffee and a donut each, then go to his car.

"I can't believe you're really here," I say. I can't stop smiling.

"I missed you, and it's only been two weeks. I have no idea what it's going to be like when you're in Princeton," he says. He can't stop smiling either.

"You'll either find out if Amtrak has a mileage plan, or you'll rack up miles on whatever airline has the best deals."

"Guess so," he says, "I bet by the year's over, I'll have enough miles to take an Amtrak first class to you in Princeton next year."

"Just don't tell my mom that," I joke, "Is your mom attending this Puja?"

"Nah. Apparently Ranbir Kapoor and Alia Bhatt are hosting a Puja in New York, and my mom snagged an invite, so she's going. So I have the house to myself for the weekend, and I have HBO Max and Paramount Plus now."

"How did you swing that?"

"My roommate's got pretty much every streaming service I don't have, so we have each other's logins and a profile on each other's streaming services."

"That's nice of you both."

"He's chill, so it wasn't a big deal," he shrugs. I'm about to suggest a movie to watch when my phone buzzes.

Kamala: Devi, you guys should hurry up and get here. Nalini Attai just texted me saying the Aunties are hovering.

I turn to Des and show him the text, "We should probably go."

"Good idea."

By the time we reach the venue, unfortunately still the high school, we've both finished our coffees and donuts. I look at my hands, "Damnit, they're still sticky."

"I have a solution," he says, opening the glove compartment and handing me hand wipes.

"You're a lifesaver, did you know that?" I gush, quickly cleaning my hands.

"I may have heard it once or twice. Shall we?"

I nod. He leaves the car, then opens my door for me and offers my hand. We're just late enough that no one is meandering in the parking lot, so we quickly head into the gym for the Puja. Thankfully, Mom is at the door, and quickly brings us to Pati.

"Where's Kamala?"

"The guruji let her and Manish do their prayers first," mom says, a hint of jealousy in her tone. We got first prayers last year, thanks to Mom helping the guruji get to Home Depot the year prior.

"If we just get Kamala and Manish engaged with the guruji as the pandit in their Nishchayathram, I'm sure we'll get it Nalini," Pati says, "Now that Manish is going to the temple, he's ready to marry our Kamala."

I stifle a giggle, which thankfully only Des notices. We get our turn soon enough, and I focus my prayers on getting into Princeton, but then my thoughts wander to Kamala and Mr. Kulkarni and their engagement, so I pray for their happiness, and then Mom and Pati's happiness. 

We go to lunch afterwards, and I grab a small table with Des, where we can see Pati holding court at a large table full of grandmas and aunties.

"What made you giggle in the prayer room?"

"Pati's statement about Kamala and Mr. Kulkarni. They actually got engaged while in India this summer. Mr. K proplosed."

"Really?"

"Really. They're keeping silent about it until the family can get their visas to come here for a proper engagement ceremony. Kamala says she's not quite ready to be married, but that Mr. Kulkarni is the one for her. I don't think either of them are ready for that level of commitment yet. I think I'm the first to know outside of those who were in India."

"Does that make me the second?"

"Yes. And the third has to be whoever Kamala Akka and Mr. Kulkarni decide to tell."

"Got it," he nods, "I was actually surprised your cousin agreed to the plan."

"She saw how happy I am with you, and she wanted to help."

"Are we that obvious?" he asks, taking my free hand and kissing it.

"When you do things like that, yes," I giggle.

After the Puja, Des and I are on our way to his car when Pati grabs me and leads me to Mom's car, then grabs a surprised Kamala and takes her to the car, then tells Mom to take us home. When we get home, she sits us all on the couch, fixing us with a stern expression.

"Tell me why I had to hear from the aunties that my beloved granddaughter is engaged?" she says, putting her hands on her hips.

Shit.

Chapter Text

Kamala closes the door behind us, "That was a close call."

"What is it with Indian aunties assuming that people are engaged because they came in together?" I remark as I dig out a dress to wear for the rest of the day, "How did your nauvari sari confirm that too? And where did you get it?"

"Ashwini Aunty saw the dhoti and bandi Manish was wearing and correctly guessed that he's Marathi, since she too is Marathi. Manish and I got our clothes we wore today as a Ganapati festival gift," she explains as she helps me change, "I was so worried until Nalini Attai mentioned that they thought you and Des were getting engaged after high school."

I can't help but blush at the thought, and she smiles knowingly, "Should I have asked the panditji to compare your horoscopes?"

"No, no. I'm just...really happy. Honestly, I never thought I'd date an Indian guy, let alone for longer than my last relationship attempts. I think I get why our family always insists we marry an Indian guy. Yeah, Des is Malyali, not Tamil, but that doesn't matter because he understands our culture."

"It's a great feeling, isn't it? Obviously, Manish didn't know a lot about our culture before we started dating, but he was willing to learn because he was connected to it."

A knock sounds on my door. "Just a minute!" I call out.

I shimmy out of the petticoat and don my dress, then open the door as I remove my jewelry.

"Patti's friend from Chennai is staying with her family in San Luis Obispo, and has apparently invited us to their Ganesh Puja tomorrow. Since the drive is pretty long, they've offered for us to stay overnight. We'll leave after dinner. Kamala, would you mind staying here with Devi while I take Pati?" Mom asks, coming in and closing the door.

"Sure," she agrees.

"We'll leave after we have tea," she says, "By the way, the nauvari sari and the half sari look great. Did you bring them back from India?"

"I did. The half sari is from my sisters and Manish's aaji and aaba gifted me the nauvari sari for Ganpati."

(A.N: The outfits - Kamala's and Manish's (left) and Devi's (right))

"Manish is Marathi?"

"Half. His dad's side is from Barshi, but because his mom raised him and she's from Chennai, he never knew. I tracked them down and arranged for tickets to get there. Manish has always wanted to meet his Dad's side, so he was super happy that I did that for him and he proposed on the spot."

"Hold on, Manish proposed?"

"He did. I know we said we weren't ready for marriage, and honestly, I think we're still not quite ready. I still have my PhD to finish and Manish is finishing his in education this year. Both of us know, though, that the person we want to be with is each other."

"Congrats, kanna," she says, hugging her, "Devi, Des didn't propose too, did he?"

I laugh, "No, mom."

"Good, because if he ever was to propose, he needs to wait until you've both graduated from college, got it?"

"Uh...sure, Mom," I say, dumbfounded.

She leaves the room, and I turn to Kamala, "I have a boyfriend that my mom actually approves of and would allow to propose to me when we're at the right age."

"Surreal, right? My parents both were instantly approving of Manish, especially when he said he was doing his doctorate in Education and was going to teach at a University for Communications after he finishes, and they gave their blessing for marriage. Natasha, Aishwarya, and Disha tried to help Manish pick out the ring, apparently. He'd already picked one out before we even came to India,"

"Did they disguise it by buying the clothes they bought for me?"

"Some, mostly the ones he got. The rest were what his Patti and Tatta got him."

"How many extra suitcases did you get?"

"We had two each allowed, so we brought one empty one. What didn't fit was shipped to my apartment."

"Good planning," I nod, impressed.

Kamala leaves the room to help Mom make dinner. Spotting an opportunity, I text Des.

Devi: Hey, can I come over in like an hour?

Des: Sure.

Des: Are you sneaking out?

Des: Because I can totally come over and find some super convincing reason as to why I'd want you to come over at 7 p.m. 

Devi: Ooh, you can tell my mom you want to help me review my college essays!

Devi: All jokes aside, I should be fine. Mom and Patti are going to SLO tonight after dinner. One of Patti's friends is hosting a Ganesh Puja there tomorrow morning and offered to host them for the night since it's a bit far for them.

Des: So, just Kamala?

Des: I can just come over.

Devi: No, it's been too long since I came over. 

Des: If you say so. Just let me know if you want me to come instead.

Devi: You can come pick me up?

Des: Will do.

"Devi, come set the table!" Mom says.

I go downstairs and set the table, then help Kamala bring the food out. Mom and Pati are arguing over what to bring for the family.

"Mami, we can't bring them the gold necklaces you brought from India! That's too expensive!" Mom argues.

"Nonsense, we do that all the time, Nalini," Pati waves off.

"Not when they have diamonds in them," Mom says. 

"Well, what else am I supposed to bring them? News that my dear granddaughter is 27 and still unmarried? Natasha already had two daughter when she was 27, and Aishwarya and Disha were both married for two years when they were 27," Pati shoots back.

"To be fair, Radha and Meera are twins," I say, trying to ease the tension.

"Yes, and she was - " Pati starts.

"- How about I give you some of the jewelry I bought in India to take to them?" Kamala says. In the brief pause from her words, she nearly sprints upstairs and comes back with several cases.

"Kanna, these are beautiful," Pati says. 

"Disha insisted I bring gift jewelry," she explains. Pati nods.

"What's gift jewelry?" I ask, confused.

"It's what our family does. Whenever we visit family or family friends, we always bring jewelry. Anything from earrings to full sets," Mom explains, "We like to keep some in storage for events like these, but this was more of an emergency."

"Why haven't I ever seen this?"

"We don't usually do it here unless they're close friends, and the kids don't usually partake."

"So was the jewelry you got me gift jewelry? I question.

"No, I just wanted to get jewelry for my thangai," Kamala says. I grin.

"These are perfect," Pati says, picking out four, "Kanna, help me pack these?"

"Sure," Kamala says. They take the boxes upstairs.

Once we hear the bedroom door close, Mom turns to me.

"Kanna, be home by 11, or at least tell Kamala so that she won't stay up," Mom says.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Des asked me if you could come over tonight while he's back for the weekend. I'm assuming you were aware, since you're wearing a dress and not loungewear?"

I nod, "He could come here."

"Nonsense. I know I have rules, Devi, but I've seen how happy he makes you, and unlike those other boys you studied with, you always ask when you're going over. I'm not saying this can happen every time he's back, but for now, it's ok. Just make sure he drops you home."

"I will. Thank you, Mom," I say.

"Of course, Kanna."

After they leave, Kamala sinks into the couch, "How often do you think Pati will bring up the marriage thing?"

"I'd give it a month. Then she'll cool down until she gets together with her Rummikub friends who all have married grandkids, and they'll bring it up again."

She groans, "At least my parents are okay with the delay. Mami and Papa may want us all to get married relatively early, but they wanted us all to get a proper college degree and a job first. Nat and Aish just happened to complete their PhDs after they got married, and Di decided not to do a PhD."

"Your parents are pretty progressive for people who wanted you to get married while doing your PhD."

"If it wasn't for the fact I wasn't ready, it wasn't entirely unreasonable. I'd have security here and having a green card would be simpler if I was married to an American citizen. They'd probably have started the process sooner if I didn't convince them to let me at least pick my beau. Di and I both wanted to fall in love before marriage, so it wasn't like it was a foreign concept."

"Didn't Disha meet Arnav in high school?"

"Yes. That's why she got married earlier - she was already in love."

"That's cute."

"Quite."

My phone buzzes, cutting off our conversation.

Des: I'm outside.

"Did Mom tell you I was going over to Des'?"

"While we were making dinner," she nods, "Text me when you're on your way back, okay?"

"I will. Bye!" I say, giving her a hug.

I quickly grab a purse and go outside. Des' car is parked just outside the driveway.

"Hey," he says when I get in, giving me a kiss.

"Want to tell me why my mom told me to be home by 11?" I ask jokingly.

"Got to leave a good impression on my girlfriend's family. I think Nalini Aunty warms up to me more every time I ask her for permission to take you out."

"She said something similar about me asking her if I can go out with you," I reply.

"I know it's not as rebellious as the desi high school romance, but it's got its charm, wouldn't you say?"

"I agree. It's nice to not sneak around. A year ago, mom wouldn't have let me stay out until 11 even if I was with Fab, El, and Nees, and now, she said if I want to stay out longer, I should let Kamala know."

"My mom used to be like that too, but Dad convinced her to lighten up when I was a junior."

"Sounds like something my dad would've done too," I reply.

"I bet your dad and my dad are up there comparing dad jokes and talking about how awesome it is that their kids are together," he says.

"Definitely. Or they're arguing about who deserves to have one the AP bet," I reply as we pull into his driveway.

""Hey, I won that one fair and square," he says, throwing his hands up.

"Only because you were taking one more AP than me!"

"Why do you think I was telling you to self-study for AP Human Geography?" he smirks as we walk in through the front door, "Admit it, you actually like the show we're watching."

"Only because those actors were youtubers, not Tik-Tok stars, and they were actually decent at acting. That first one, the hospital show, how is it so bad?"

"They tried to be Grey's Anatomy and forgot to hire people who could express emotions with facial expressions?" he shrugs, :We're about to hit the Tik-Tok season, at least from what I heard."

"You didn't watch it?"

"I used to hear people talk about it during Semester at Sea, but never tried watching it. So I wanted to watch with you. Popcorn?"

"Yes, please," I reply, "We're on Season 6, right?"

"Yep, would you mind starting it?"

I get comfortable on the couch and click on Peacock, quickly finding the show. He returns with the popcorn and two cups of hot chocolate, passing me the one with more whipped cream, before putting the popcorn and the drink on the table. He sits down and reaches for the blanket.

"Don't hog the blanket this time," I warn.

"I make no promises," he grins, pulling his half on him and putting an arm around me.

We watch the first few episodes, commenting on it the whole time. When we reach the third or fourth episode, my jaw drops, "Holy shit that dude looks just like you!"

"He does. Though I would never get that haircut."

"The earrings aren't all that bad, though."

"I was thinking about piercing my ears. My dad wore these gold hoops all the time, and there's this reputable place near here..."

An idea strikes me, and I grin. He looks at me, "What?"

"Come on," I say, grabbing his hand.

"Where?"

"I need your keys," I say, ignoring his question.

"Only if you tell me where we're going."

"To that little reputable place you know near here."

"You want me to get my ears pierced?"

"Only if you want to, but believe me, there's no point in thinking about the what-ifs. I may have been dared to get my nose pierced, but I don't regret it."

"Why not," he decides.

"I'd wait to wear your dad's hoops until it's safe to do it."

"Good idea."

I wait for him to secure the house outside, then we drive to the parlor. It already looks nicer than the one we all went to sophomore year, though they don't question it when we ask for his ears to be pierced. Thirty minutes later, Des walks into the lobby, sporting new gold hoops with a grin. He pays for the job and the cleansing kit, then takes my hand.

"Thanks for encouraging me to do this," he says, kissing my cheek.

"Anytime," I reply.

We go back to his house, and I get an idea, "One second."

I run up to his room, and grab a plaid shirt, "Wear this?"

"Okay..." he says, pulling it on over his t-shirt. I mess with his hair a little, then pull out my phone, "What are you doing?"

"A Tik-Tok," I reply.

I take a video of the screen we were paused on, then point the camera at his grinning face. I caption it, "When your boyfriend's doppleganger is on a tv show" and put the "How Bizarre" audio over it. Once it's done, I show it to him, and he laughs, "I wonder if it'll go viral."

"That would be cool," I reply. I post it as we resettle on the couch.

After a bowl of popcorn and a refill of hot chocolate, we finish the season.

"Hey, it's not 11 yet," he comments.

"When do you go back?"

"Noon. I have a paper due that I need to work on on the train," he says apologetically, "I know it's not a lot of time..."

"That's okay," I say, kissing him. He leans into it, and eventually, we're making out on the couch.

"I love you," he says after a particularly sweet kiss.

"I..." I say, feeling like things are moving too quickly all of a sudden. The hardest part is that I see myself saying it back, but...

"You don't have to say anything. I know we've only been dating a few months, but..."

"It's not that. I think we're moving too fast. I..."

"Are you breaking up with me?" he asks, sounding hurt, but not angry.

"It's not the fact that you said you love me. It's the fact that I was ready to say it back and mean it. I've never dated someone I've grown to care about so quickly. It's scaring me. I think I need a break. I'm sorry,"

"Don't be. We can talk when you're ready."

"You shouldn't wait for me..." I trail off.

"Oh. Can I at least drive you home?" he asks.

I shake my head, "I'll just ask Kamala."

I make my way out of the house and call Kamala, "Can you pick me up?"

"I'm on my way. Are you okay?"

"I'm safe, I just..." I say, trying not to cry.

"I'll be there soon," she promises.

She's there in five minutes, "I was just dropping Manish home, so I wasn't too far. What's wrong?"

"Des said he loves me," I say, bursting into tears, "And I broke up with him."

"Oh Devi," she says, "Because he said he loves you?"

"No, because I was ready to say it back to him. It just hit me hard that I was catching feelings this fast and I wasn't ready. I didn't want to make him wait. I just ended the best relationship I've ever had, just because I was afraid of the commitment we'd made."

She pulls into an empty parking lot and hugs me. I cry into her shoulder, unsure of anything.

Chapter Text

"So, did you notice your TikTok with Des got almost 3000 views?" Eleanor asks when I get to my locker.

"Wait, really?" I ask, pulling out my phone. 2,992 views. Over 1500 more than I've gotten before.

"I'm surprised you didn't notice. When Christina Ricci accidentally liked your Wednesday dance TikTok, you had it screen-shotted and sent to us within the five seconds it took her to unlike it."

"I know, it was just a busy weekend. Ganpati festival and my essay for Princeton and all," I explain.

"And a weekend with your boyfriend?" she says.

"Uh, yeah. Elle..." I start, trying to find the words to describe what happened this weekend when someone skates right by us. We quickly move against the lockers to avoid getting hit.

"Who was that?" Fabiola asks.

"Ethan Morales. Trent says he and his skater friends are the new Hot Pocket," Elle explains.

"Scrawny Ethan looks like that now?" I ask, dumbfounded, "Like, he must've grown two feet. And the shaggy hair..."

"Don't Des, Paxton, and Ben have super short hair?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Just surprised, that's all," Elle says.

"We're high schoolers, our tastes can change. Besides, it was just an observation."

"Right..." Fabiola says.

We have our first debate meeting at lunch. Fabiola meets me by my locker, "Hey, Addi told me about you and Des. Are you okay?"

"Honestly, no. I'm not sure sure if it was the right decision. I think I just need some time. I was going to tell you both earlier, but then Ethan nearly ran us over."

"No matter your reason, we're here for you. Even if you need some more time."

"Thanks, Fab," I say, hugging her.

"So, Des told you he loved you, and you broke up with him?" Dr. Ryan asks at our therapy session.

"More than that happened," I protest.

"Devi, you've been saying 'Des said I love you, I broke up with him, and stuff happened' for 45 minutes. Did something bad happen between those two events? Did he do anything?"

"He didn't do anything!" I assure, "It was me."

"You didn't love him back?"

"I do love him back. That scares me. We'd been dating for just over half a year, what does that mean? I'm not ready. How could I turn him down? Is there something wrong with me?"

She sits by me, "Devi, there is nothing wrong with you! There's nothing wrong with being afraid of love. It happens. Maybe you realized your feelings earlier than you thought, or maybe you aren't ready for that kind of commitment. There's nothing wrong with that."

"But what if he was my only chance? What if there's no one else who'll love me like he did?"

"Devi, you know when I look at you, I see a beautiful lady who anybody would be lucky to know - as a partner or as a friend. You're extraordinary, Devi!"

"Really?"

"I never lie," she nods.

"So, that's why I was acting so weird. Kamala was helping me through the worst of it," I explain.

"Oh, kanna," Mom says softly, hugging me, "It's going to be okay."

"Dr. Ryan said the same thing, but what if that was my last chance? What if I'm not worthy of love?"

"You will always be worthy of love, kanna. Des is a good guy, but he won't be the only one who sees how amazing you are."

"Thanks, Mom," I say, hugging her closer.

"Always," she promises, kissing my forehead.

The next morning, we're at our lockers when Aneesa heads down the hall. She had a soccer tournament out of state this weekend for her club soccer team, so she wasn't here on Monday.

"Devi! Fabiola! Eleanor!" Aneesa waves when she sees us. She starts walking towards us when Ethan crashes straight into her.

"Are you okay?' Ethan asks as he gets up.

"Yeah, I'm..." Aneesa says as she gets up, "Hi."

Ethan smiles, "Hi."

Chapter Text

After spending months perfecting my application for Princeton, it all feels off. They're still me, but they feel like a different me.

Maybe asking my ex-boyfriend to edit my Common App essay for me wasn't the best idea...

I still have a few weeks before I have to submit my application. I can rewrite this essay, right?

"Devi, what are you doing?" Mom asks. Dang it, did I leave my door open?

"Uh...nothing!" I reply, quickly minimizing the document.

"Really? Because it looks like you were about to delete the essay you spent the whole summer perfecting," she replies.

I sigh, "I know it's stupid, but Des helped me write it, and all I could think about while I was preparing for submission was him. I just thought that if I rewrite it, it would be easier."

"Kanna," she says, putting her hands on my shoulders, "You've written excellent essays, but this one might just be your best. It was ready for submission even before Des proofread it. It's authentic to who you are. Believe me, if I was the Princeton recruiter, I'd put you on my admissions list after reading it."

"Thanks, Mom," I reply.

"What if I went over your essays one more time before you submit them?"

"That...would be perfect. Then I can submit them knowing that they weren't last read by my ex," I reply, "I'll email them. Thanks, mom!"

I get up and hug her. She pulls away after a brief moment, "Okay, okay. Send me the document and come down for dinner."

She kisses my forehead before leaving.

At dinner, Paati's acting strange. Normally, she engages us in conversation with the latest gossip, but she's unusually quiet.

"I spoke to Rhyah this morning. She said that Des wasn't home when she got back from her party. He was supposed to spend Sunday there, but he went back to Stanford early. Do you know anything about that, Devi?" she asks.

I swallow too quickly, and I begin to cough. Kamala, who's here for dinner, quickly hands me a cup of water. Paati continues, "You and Kamala were home alone on Saturday night, and Des left Sunday morning. I'm surprised you don't know why, considering he seems to have come to see you. Do you have anything to tell us?"

I look at Mom, begging her with my eyes to interrupt the conversation. Before Mom can do anything, though, Kamala speaks up, "Manish and I are engaged!"

Chapter Text

Nee uththu paakkalnna manaam
Seththu pogum saami
En athana azhagu nee illana
Aathula karacha perungaayam
Saami en saami

En saami vaayya saami
Manmadha saami mandhira saami
Pokkiri saami

En saami vaayya saami
Manmadha saami mandhira saami
Pokkiri saami

"Wow, Noor Aunty, I didn't know you knew Tamil," I ask when she's turned the music off, impressed.

She nods, "My mom made sure I knew the languages for all the dances I learned - Tamil for Bharatnatyam, Telugu for Kuchipudi, and Hindi for Kathak. I stopped dancing professionally after I got married, so getting to teach again is wonderful."

"I'm not surprised you were, you're so good at this. I'm surprised that you stopped," I reply, surprised.

She smiles softly, "It was a dream. Then I met Aneesa's father after a show, and everything changed. When you become a wife and a mother, you make sacrifices. I don't regret the sacrifice I made."

"I'm sorry that you ever had to give that dream up. Was it because of Aneesa?" I ask.

"In part," she nods, "I still danced after getting married, but less frequently - more choreography than performing. After having Aneesa, I realized that I couldn't pursue my dream of being a world-renowned dancer and my dream of being as wonderful a mother as mine was at the same time. Choosing Aneesa never felt like a difficult choice, and I've never regretted it."

"You raised a wonderful person, Noor Aunty," I smile.

"Thank you, Devi. Now, I believe Aneesa's waiting for you." 

I go upstairs, letting my hair loose. Aneesa waves me in when she sees me, doing her homework on her bed, "How was the dance class?"

"Tough, but really informative. I wish I'd learned how to dance when I was younger," I admit, sitting in her desk chair, "Thanks for asking your mom."

"No problem. We'll have you trained enough by the time of Kamala's wedding," she says, "How's that going?"

"No clue. Mom's working late every day, and Paati's on the phone when she leaves and several hours after she comes back. Kamala's been at her apartment all week. Thanks for letting me stay here," I sigh.

"Anytime. At least it'll be easier for our culture lessons, so that your Paati won't think you're a...what?"

"Coconut - brown on the outside, white on the inside," I explain, "She used to talk about how Kamala's almost done with her Kathak training whenever I visited. Now she'll have all her granddaughters at least partially trained in the Natya Shashtras dance forms."

She closes her textbook, "What did you say?"

"...The Natya Shashtra?" I ask.

"You've never remembered that name before."

"Your mom's kinda inspiring. If she can be a queen of three dance forms and languages, I can learn the history and practice of one. That last song we did was weird, though. I mean, constantly calling your husband a god? And saying that a beautiful sari would be worthless if your husband doesn't comment on it? Who'd want to dance to a song about that?"

"Did she tell you the meaning?"

"No - she did show me the lyrics though and I remembered what the words meant from that Tamil course you sent me - oh."

"You're picking it up!" Aneesa squeals, high fiving me.

"Soon I'll finally understand what my mom says about the cashiers at the grocery store," I laugh.

I get a text from Kamala, in a newly formed Vishwakumar-Nandiwadal-Kulkarni ladies group chat.

Kamala: Now that my engagement is public news, I figured we can start planning the Sakhar Puda/Nichayathartham dances.

Kamala: I want to do one where we're all partnered with our spouses/fiances/boyfriends - one per duo, and then one of all of us.

Kamala: Please let me know if your partner is willing to do it. Otherwise we can plan around it.

"Kamala just sent a text. She's planning a dance performance with the cousins and their partners," I mention.

Aneesa grins playfully, "Are you going to ask Des to dance with you?"

I hesitate before admitting, "I actually broke up with Des."

Aneesa's eyes widen, "When did this happen?"

"After Ganpati. We spent the evening together, everything was great, and then he suddenly said, 'I love you.'"

Aneesa winces in understanding.

"Yeah," I continue, "I felt the same way. I almost said it, and that's what scared me. We'd been dating for less than a year - how could either of us be in love so quickly?"

Aneesa comforts me with a hug. After a pause, I add, "Paati found out something was up. Rhyah told her Des left early. Paati pushed me to talk, and Kamala told her she's engaged. Kamala wasn't ready yet - I feel bad."

Aneesa reassures me, "Kamala knew you weren't ready to talk. Grandparents can be pushy even with good intentions. Kamala doesn't blame you, right?"

I sigh, "I'm not sure. She's been quiet since we left."

Aneesa insists, "She wouldn't have included you in the dance group chat if she blamed you."

I nod, a glimmer of hope in my eyes. "You're right. I just hope we can talk soon."

"Why don't you reach out and ask her?" she suggests.

"I guess it's worth a shot," I nod.

Devi: Hey. I know that its been chaotic lately with Paati. Are you and Mr. K doing okay?

Kamala: Hey! Sorry I haven't texted in a while - work's been just as chaotic as Paati 😄

Kamala: We're okay. It was bound to be told sooner or later, and Paati didn't badger me for not telling her immediately - she understood that I didn't tell her because we weren't sure about where anything was going to be.

Kamala: She hasn't asked you about Des, has she?

Devi: I'm glad you're okay.

Devi: I haven't seen her in a few days. I'm actually at Aneesa's right now. I have my Princeton interview at school tomorrow and I need to prepare without all the noise of WhatsApp calls.

Kamala: Understandable!

Kamala: Why don't you come on over after the interview? We can watch the last season of Riverdale and plan some wedding stuff, if you're up for it.

Devi: I'd love that.

"We're good," I confirm.

"Great!"

"Aneesa, Devi, come down for dinner!" Noor Aunty calls.

We both head downstairs. To my surprise, Ethan Morales and his parents are there, and Ethan's hugging Aunty.

"What's Ethan doing here?" I ask Aneesa, shocked.

Chapter Text

Why was the line for interviews so long? Why couldn't Sherman Oaks have let the students schedule their own interviews?

"Devi, I need your help!" Ben calls out.

Good. Standing in line was only going to make me more nervous. Sophomore year me would've skipped right to the front of the line, but what good was that going to do? Hopefully, the line gets shorter by the time I'm done dealing with Ben.

"What's wrong...oh," I ask, seeing his sweat stained shirt, "Follow me."

I take him to my locker, where I keep extra clothes sometimes. I look through a bag and toss out a salmon shirt while digging deeper.

"I appreciate it Devi, but I don't want to wear pink," Ben says nervously.

"Hold on a second," I reply.

I finally find what I'm looking for, and thankfully, it smells pretty nice, "Follow me."

I walk to the men's bathroom, and hand him the shirt, "Here. Drink some water first, and breathe. Once you've changed clothes, look in the mirror and tell yourself that you're going to ace that Columbia interview. Telling yourself what you need to hear in a mirror helps."

"Why do you have a man's shirt in your locker? Wait - this looks familiar. Why do you have your boyfriend's debate shirt, and why are you letting me use it?"

"Des gave it to me before he went to college. It was the shirt he wore when we beat Hartman Hills, so he said it would be good luck for my next debate season," I explain.

"That's sweet, but I'd still feel weird about wearing your boyfriend's shirt," he deflects.

I roll my eyes, "If you want, that salmon shirt is still available..."

"This one's fine," he quickly replies.

I smirk, "Thought so."

I leave and walk towards the the Princeton booth, where the line is nearly empty. Time to make my future a reality...

"Hi, I'm Devi Vishwakumar," I say, reaching my hand out to the tall Indian woman in front of me.

"Akshara Gavankar. Nice to meet you," she says, shaking my hand. We move to the classroom behind us to continue the interview.

"So tell me, Devi. Why Princeton?"

"When I was younger, I dreamed of being a princess, and I wanted to go to 'Princess College'. Of course, I found out rather quickly that there was no 'Princess College', but my dad told me there was a 'Princeton University'. He wanted the best for me, and I want to make that dream a reality for him."

"Your dad picked a great university," she says, and I crack a smile.

We talk more about school and my extracurricular activities. Eventually, she gets to a question I didn't expect, "You've mentioned how your dad motivated you a few times. Would you say that he's your inspiration?"

"His love and belief in me does motivate me, but it isn't necessarily my inspiration. Honestly, the person I'm inspired by most is my mom. My mom moved to the US after marriage, and she'd done her residency for dermatology in India, but she had to do it all over again here. She's faced a bunch of challenges, from trying to become a doctor again in a foreign country to becoming the sole parent after my Dad died, and she's persevered. I'm inspired by her strength and perseverance."

"Your mom sounds like a great woman. It can be tough to move on from a loss as tremendous as the one your family faced," she replies.

Thankfully, we finish the conversation with far more familiar questions. 

"I believe that's all I need. Thank you for meeting with me today."

"Thank you for the opportunity. There've been so many people in line today, I can't imagine interviewing all of us has been easy."

"It's definitely been easier with more polite students, that's for sure. There was a student earlier who saw the line and went right to the front, expecting that I'd take their interview. As if that would leave anything but a bad first impression," she laughs.

"Definitely," I agree. Thank goodness I didn't do that...

She closes her notebook, "Well, it's time I take off for lunch. Stanford's got the table for the rest of the day, so you were my last interview."

"Stanford?" I ask, my mind jumping to Des. Good thing there's no way that Des would be there...

"Yes. Apparently, based on some interest survey the seniors were given, most of the booths were given to the military, state schools, and community colleges, leaving the private schools to split their booth time. If there were more in line after my hard stop at 12:30, I have a calendar set up to book an interview sometime next week. I'll be in Southern California for interviews all week," she explains.

"I see. It was nice to meet you, Ms. Gavankar," I say, offering my hand.

She shakes it with a smile, "Likewise, and please, call me Akshara. Ms. makes me feel old."

We leave the classroom, and I stop in my tracks. Akshara doesn't notice as she makes her way to the exits to get lunch.

Why is Des at the Stanford booth?

There's two older people, likely professors, and Des manning the Stanford booth. It's weird that he's here, considering that he's only a freshman.

I should leave.

In my haste to leave without being noticed, I don't see a booth sign that's fallen on the ground until I lose my balance by sliding on it. Before I can crash to the ground though, I'm caught and helped up. When I'm steady, I look towards my savior...Des. The booth is empty - the interviewers must both be talking to students.

"Hi," I start, unsure of what to say.

"You okay?" he asks.

I nod, "Thanks for saving me."

"Sure," he replies, "Were you doing an interview?"

I'm about to respond when I'm nearly tackled into a hug by Ben, "The interview went great! Thanks, David!"

Crap.

When I pull away, I hear Des scoff, "Never mind. Guess your new boyfriend would've caught you instead. And is that my shirt?"

"Oh, sorry, Devi said you gave it to her...I really needed a shirt. I'd give it back, but I don't really have another one..."

"Whatever. So glad to see you've clearly moved on after barely two months," he scoffs.

He goes back to his booth, and in his frustration, knocks over several items, causing several booths to look our way. I don't think anything I can say would help...

"What the hell is going on? You, you, and you, my office, now," Principal Grubbs says, coming up and pointing towards Ben, Des, and I.

The three of us sit in her office a few minutes later while Principal Grubbs stares us down, "I don't know exactly what happened, but clearly, Ms. Vishwakumar seems to be in the middle of this, so explain."

"All I was doing was having my Princeton interview, honest," I reply.

"Yeah, right," Des scoffs.

"Save your comments for when I speak to you, Mr..." Principal Grubbs says.

"Menon. Nirdesh Menon," he replies.

"Mr. Menon. Continue, Ms. Vishwakumar."

"I came, saw the line for the Princeton booth, and decided to wait until it cleared up a bit. Before I could go anywhere, Ben came over asking for my help."

"Mr. Gross?"

"I was nervous for my Columbia interview, and I sweated through my shirt. I didn't know what to do, so I asked Devi for help. Normally, I'd ask my girlfriend Margot, but she was having her own interview for RISD. She had two shirts in her locker that she could give me, a salmon one and the one I'm wearing. I'd recognized it as the one her boyfriend had worn during our debate round against them last year, but she said it was fine."

Des looks less annoyed. Principal Grubbs turns back to me, "Why did you have Mr. Menon's shirt?"

"We won against them, and Des...before he started at Stanford, he gave it to me for good luck. We're no longer together, but I still had it in my locker. I didn't know Des was going to be there, but I decided that Ben needed the luck more than I did and I gave it to him. I realized when I saw it that I do need to give it back, but I thought I would have enough time to get it Dry cleaned."

"And how did that lead to you knocking several items off your own booth table, Mr. Menon?"

"I made a bad assumption. I knew that Devi and Ben had dated in the past, and when I saw him hug her and that he was wearing my shirt, I assumed that she'd moved on to him already and she gave him my shirt to taunt me. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Clearly, you weren't. Ms. Vishwakumar has every right to move on, no matter how long its been. It would no longer be your business, Mr. Menon. Secondly, you did give Ms. Vishwakumar the shirt for luck. What she chooses to do with it is her business. I would advise that you leave now, Mr. Menon. We don't need any more disruption to this important day."

Des nods and leaves the room. Principal Grubbs turns back to us, "Okay, how did your interviews go?"

We discuss our interviews and leave the office with a more positive outlook. Ben starts walking to the cafeteria to get lunch, and I follow swiftly. The food is far better than usual, likely to appeal to the various college interviewers, and I find myself eating my garden burger more than picking at it.

"Why didn't you just tell me that you weren't with Des anymore?" Ben asks.

"It wasn't a big deal for me. The breakup hurt, but he was hundreds of miles away. It was a lot easier to focus on myself and college, and I stopped thinking about it."

"Did he break up with you?"

I shake my head, "I did. He told me he loves me."

"And you didn't?"

"I actually did. Falling in love so easily scared me."

"Devi. If I've learned anything from the last year, it's that whatever those risks are that scare you, they're worth it. You seemed happier with him than you ever were with Paxton or me. What if its worth the second shot?"

"But what if its too late?" I reply.

Chapter Text

In the middle of the movie her and Kamala started to celebrate her successful interview, Kamala gets up to use the restroom. While she's in there, someone knocks on the door.

"That must be the pizza. Devi, can you get it?" Kamala calls out.

"When did you order - pizza," I say as she opens the door.

Des stands on the other side, holding two boxes of pizza, "Hi."

"What're you doing here?" I asks, trying to keep my lingering annoyance out of her voice.

"Your cousin asked me to pick up pizza," he replies.

"Thanks," I reply flatly, taking the boxes from him to put on the coffee table.

"Devi, wait!" Des says, "I only agreed because I wanted to apologize."

"I didn't break up with you because I wasn't into you anymore, Des. I was honest with you. You knew Ben and I had become friends - I'd even told you about Margot. What if my interviewer had still been there?"

"I would've asked your principal for any contact information she could've given for that interviewer, and I'd have apologized. I know Princeton's your dream - even if I'd sabotaged it on accident, I would've rectified it."

"You say that, but..."

"Devi," he says.

"I guess I usually do the sabotage to myself," I admit, "It kinda was on me for giving Ben your shirt. I'd kept it in my locker for good luck, and I guess it still was lucky, considering I nailed that interview."

"I can't believe that scrawny kid could fit into my dress shirt," he replies.

We look at each other and laugh, the tension broken by the pure absurdity of what had happened earlier.

"Can I come in?" he asks.

"I guess, but Kamala and I are in the middle of a - movie," I reply, stopping when I see Kamala dressed up.

"Oh I forgot to tell you! I'm meeting Manish for dinner. We'll have to finish the movie tomorrow night, Devi. Have fun and stay safe, you two," she says, giving me a quick hug as she leaves.

We look at the door for a long moment. Des finally speaks, "Was this a set up?"

"Definitely," I nod, "Well, how's Stanford?"

"It's been good! I'm only an alternate on their debate team right now, which I'm fine with since bio's been intense."

"Are you studying marine biology? Since you were doing that project on the semester at sea?"

"Partially, but I'm actually pre-med. I want to become a vet," he explains.

"You never told me that!" I exclaim.

"I was leaning towards marine bio before, but I've been volunteering at a veterinary hospital since the start of the month, and I've absolutely been drawn in. Actively making those adorable animals lives better and saving them? I'm here for it," he explains.

"That's pretty awesome."

"What about you? You do a lot of extra curriculars - unless you're leaning towards music?" he asks, absentmindedly tucking a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. Oddly enough, I don't mind.

"I love Model UN, so I applied to major in International Relations/Political Science. Maybe I could work for the actual UN," she daydreams, "But I don't want to lose music, so I applied to minor in that too."

"I totally see you doing that," he says, just as his stomach growls, "Can we dig in? I think this one's a veggie lover's, and this one's just mushrooms."

"Let's," I agree.

We open both boxes and take a slice from the box directly in front of us, "Devi, you have to try this."

I reach for a slice from the veggie lover's box just as he reaches for one to give me. Our hands meet in the middle, and we look at each other - our faces far too close. Before I can think about it too much, our lips meet after a month separated and we kiss.

When we separate, I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind, "I love you."