Best Friends

Ari

Summer echoed over and over again in the heat and sweat. I sat in the front yard staring off into the sun, sky and the house in front of ours. The people who lived in that house never came out, it’s a pity if you ask me. I had been sitting in this same exact spot for 3 hours, 45 minutes and 23 seconds, and counting waiting for something to change. Inside, Amma’s vadas boiled, the aroma leaking outside the open windows and wooden door. In the garage, Papa had been tinkering with the old, broken down emerald green Nissan in an attempt to get it to work.

Not a thing had changed.

I stood up, the sweat getting to the tips of my fingers and spreading from strand to strand of hair. Then, a moving van followed by an SUV drove into our road and parked next door. The house next door had been vacant ever since I could remember living in Glenmoore, I had come across thoughts that it might have been haunted or abandoned- but this family, this family gave me hope. An Indian man scurried out of the car and assisted the men in the moving van to remove each box and left it by the door, after around their third round of boxes they opened the door and pushed the boxes to the right, the dining room of the home. I stared peculiarly at the SUV, there had been some sort of commotion inside it, yet only the man had gotten out. The car door slid open and an Indian lady came out, followed by a teenage girl- around 14 or 15 year’s old pushing a wheelchair. My heart fluttered. Something has changed, I thought over and over again. The mother and the boy in the wheelchair slid into the house and shut the door. I opened the door to my own house and slipped inside.

“-Where have you been?” Amma sneered as I walked in.

“O-Outside…” I hesitated.

“Doing what?” She asked, irritated, flipping another vada onto the plate.

“Nothing,” I replied and walked into the kitchen.

“Be useful then.” She slid a cutting board, a few carrots, and a knife to me. I began washing the carrots and chopped them into small pieces and handed them to her.

“Amma,” I began, “we have neighbors.”

“What a pleasant surprise!” She chirped, almost giddy with joy. “We will invite them over for dinner.” She followed, flipping a handful of vadas onto the plate and mixed a pancake-like batter filled with vegetables to make more. I climbed the winding stairway to my room and shut the door. The tap slowly turned and I occupied my mind by taking a shower. During the shower, I pretended I was singing for an audience and started a rampage of Disney songs, ranging from I See The Light to I’ll Make A Man Out Of You. After about 30 minutes, I wrapped myself in a towel and walked out, surprised to see my mom standing in the doorway between my closet and the bathroom, “No one was expecting you to have a concert, Maharani.” Sarcastically she had called me queen”- it was slightly irritating, and my face flushed in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” I replied quietly. After she left, I slipped on a pair of black tights and a white shirt with a mandala on it. I shook my head, letting my short wild hair fly around, like a wet dog. I left my room and ran back down to the kitchen. Downstairs, Amma was shouting at Papa about doing nothing useful in the garage.

“How long will you fix that broken car?” She demanded, “I thought you were going to sell that piece of junk last year?”

“It has sentimental value,” Papa whispered but didn’t dare to let his remark be heard., I snickered at his fear of someone as small as Amma. But as always, Amma had heard what he said and went on her rant,

“Not sentimental, mental.” She moved her finger in circular motions around her ear to indicate the insult, “That’s what you are.” She left to set the table, as Papa and I sat down, afraid to touch anything- in case we got slapped or shouted at more. “On a better note,” she smiled, “we have guests over tonight.”

“Who?” Papa asked, confused at this unexpected news. “Is it the Mehtas?” He asked, under his breath- hoping it wasn’t his colleagues that my mom had gone out of her way to call them over for the hundredth time.

“No, no. We have new neighbors.” Amma replied, placing rice, rasam, and vegetables on the tables.

“We do?” Papa asked, turning to me. I nodded, and Amma took over.

“Yes, Ari saw a family when she was outside.”

“Kids?” Papa asked smiling at me.

“Yeah, two,” I replied, as butterflies started fluttering in my stomach again. I thought about the boy I had seen. I wanted to see him. I wanted to talk to him. “How are we going to call them?” I asked, amused at Amma’s idea of calling someone who we didn’t even know.

“What else, we’ll walk over and call them,” Amma replied, as though the answer was obvious.

“What time?” Papa inquired, checking his watch. I could see the smaller hand over 3.

“Good question.” Amma thought, “Around 5. Get ready.” I went upstairs to the playroom and began to pick up the toys, then moved onto my room and tidied up. I finished and checked my watch, which replied at 3:30. I collapsed on my bed in thought and drifted off to sleep. When I woke up I heard Amma’s voice scold “Why isn’t the couch clean?” She started, “And this-” she picked up something off of what I figured was the stairs “Why is it lying here?” My dad’s muttering could be heard, and I knew I was the next person to feel the wrath, so I rolled out of bed, did my hair and made my bed. I slipped on a powder blue shirt and a pair of jeans and ran the brush through my hair. I ran down the stairs and helped my mom set the table and picked up things off the couch. She checked the clock, “Go call them, I’m going to go get ready.” It was around ten minutes before five, and Papa was sitting in a suit and tie, as stiff as a stone, cleaning his glasses. I walked outside, the humidity drenching me. The dark street was illuminated on the sides by lamps. My bare feet crawled on the concrete, and I found the courage to walk up to the door. My heart pounding on my chest like a thousand waves crashing onto the sand. I reached out to the door, but to my surprise, it opened before I could knock!.

“Oh hello,” a voice said and, I almost lunged back. “I was just coming out for the mail.” It was the man I had seen earlier.

“I was wondering if you wanted to join my family at dinner at our place?"

“Just a few more minutes,” Amma muttered under her breath fidgeting with her phone.

“Why did I have to get ready this early?” Papa asked, leaned back on the couch watching golf. You definitely look ready. I wanted to remark, but held it in and soothed my panicked mind. The doorbell rang and Amma jumped to get it, we looked quite creepy this ready. Papa fumbled with the remote and ended up dropping it on the ground. “Sorry.” He gasped and reached down to pick it up, farting in the process. Amma tried to silence his stupidity before she opened the door but it was too late. One by one they stepped into the house, just like before, father, mother and then the two siblings. My heart jumped. They took off their shoes, parents following parents and kids following me.

“Hi,” I said, looking at the older sister who was preoccupied with her phone.

“Hi,” She muttered back, preoccupied with her phone.

“What grade are you going into?” I asked.

“8th.”

“Wow, you’re tall,” I muttered, immediately regretting it. “Where did you move from?”

“This place, called Allen.”

“Oh.” I had never heard of it before. “What’s your name?” I asked on my knees, I wanted to talk to the boy. “Are you asking him something?” She looked off her phone for a second.

“Yeah,” I stared at the ground.

“He doesn’t talk much.”

“That doesn’t mean he never does.” I paused, “What’s your name?” I looked up at him. “R-Rishi.” The words were gentle and slow. I smiled,

“What grade are you going into?”

“E-eighth,” he responded, the words gentle as before.

“I’m Ari.” I smiled, handing out my hand, he reached out and grasped it. Silently, I thought, this year I would have a best friend. I looked up at the girl, her eyes cold and unloved. Amma called us for dinner and we joined the adults in the dining room. I helped Amma set the table and spoke little during dinner. The adults, on the other hand, laughed about ‘teenagers’ and the first day of school. My heart fluttered again- this time it felt light and warm.

We waved goodbye and cleaned up around the house. I ran up to my room and took out a small journal and began to write:

This year, I might have a best friend I wrote. I put my pen down for a moment then picked it up and continued. I kept writing: It’s not really fair though, some things shouldn’t happen to people. They do, but they shouldn’t. Why did they move here? Does that girl think I’m weird? Did something happen that I don’t know? Is that why they’re here? I don’t know a lot of things, but I do know that if you try hard enough a person will open up. And talk. And no one is really quiet or loud, you’re either just a good listener or not. I’ve met a really good listener today. Not quite. A good listener. I have a lot to say too, and I know that he will listen to everything. My stories. And something else I know is this, I don’t do a lot of things right but you know when you really do something good? It’s when you see someone laugh and you think, “I made them laugh.” Good night diary, till we meet again.

August 21st. My heart echoed in my chest, throbbing. I woke up and threw off my blankets. Excitement surged inside me. It had been a few weeks since we had seen our neighbors. Today I would. After a quick shower, I wore the first pair of jeans and top I could find, took my backpack and ran down. I threw my bag on the couch and walked into the kitchen, Amma was taking a shower and Papa was meditating so I helped myself to a bowl of cereal. Today. I thought. Today. I rushed out to the bus stop, it was the same one as last year so I knew where to go. I looked around. She was there, I walked up to her, “Are you excited for the first day of school?”

“Sure, I guess so.” She lifted her head up but then went back to her phone. Where’s Rishi, I wanted to ask. My heart begged to, but my mind silenced it. I took out my phone and pretended to be occupied by it but nothing could hold me still. But I had to wait. Then, when I couldn’t handle it much longer I asked her,

“Do you know any of Rishi’s classes?”

“Yeah, a few,” she paused, “why?”

“I was just, curious,” I wondered why she wouldn’t tell me and went from looking at her dark blue converse to her face.

“How does it work?” She asked, looking up as the bus pulled up to the stop.

“How does what work?”

“Schedules, classes?”

“Oh, you go to the gym first, there they give you your schedule- by your last name, then you find somewhere to sit in the gym till your first period.” I sat next to her on the bus because I had no-one else to sit by, typical.

“Where is my first period?” She asked, pulling out a folded paper from the side pocket of her backpack. I scanned over her classes,

“First period… Mrs. Austin… A212. Upstairs, A hall near the 210’s-220’s.” I described and pulled out my schedule and compared the two. “We have the same 2nd period, 4th period and lunch-”

“How does that work?” She paused, “Lunch- I mean.”

“Based on your 4th period,” I started, and looked over her schedule once more, “we both have B lunch.” The bus stopped at the back of the school and I hurried to the gym to find my schedule. The line was snaking around, so I joined at the end. I looked around for Rishi. I could feel my heart almost, sink. I held my breath and kept wishing I would have a class with him. When it was my turn to get the schedule the teacher at the front desk asked for my last name, “S,” I said, “Sharma.”

“Q, no, R, are you R?” She asked, apparently not hearing me.

“No, S.”

“Oh ok, S, Sh, Sha- oh there you are, Sharma.” When she was flipping through the schedules I caught a glimpse of Rishis. He wasn’t here yet. My heart pounded as I got my schedule and sat alone in the sea of bleachers. Wait, I soothed myself. We are on the brink of an adventure. The first period awaits. Then a feeling surged into me, what if nothing had changed? What if this year was going to be the same as all those other year’s? No, I argued. No, this wasn’t going to be the same. My internal conflict rose as the bell to first period rang. The sea of bleachers divided. Some went upstairs, others stayed down. I climbed up the stairs to my first period, science- the room was a sea of students all talking with one another. I chose a desk in the back of the room as usual and sat unbothered. My teacher, however, seemed bothered.

“What’s your name?” He asked, pointing at me.

“Ari,” I said back- quieter.

“Say it louder, say it like you want the world to hear your name.” But I don’t.

“Ari,” I replied, louder, then he took the liberty of saying it.

“Meet Ari, everyone!” He shouted across the room. My dark brown eyes illuminated in the room, my olive-brown face glistened. My hands felt sweaty and everyone’s eyes were on me. I tried to smile but sunk in my chair. After my unfortunate introduction, Mr. Robin began to call the roll, “Jane August?”

“Here!”

“William Brown?”

“Here!”

“Albert Caler?”

“Here.” All the way to R,

“Jason Richard?”

“Here!” My heart began to beat, although I don’t know why.

“Alice Sale?”

“Here!” Louder still. “Amelia Sanchez?”

“Here!”

“Rishabh Seer-”

“He goes by Rishi,” a voice came from outside- a teacher was pushing Rishi in his wheelchair into the class. My heart jumped, but my mind was calm.

“Ari Sharma?” The teacher asked and I gasped for breath.

“Here!” I squeaked, quickly regretting the high pitch in my voice.

“Oh! It’s you! Nice to meet you again Ari.” He replied and wrote my name down on his sheet. My face flushed again. I looked across the room at Rishi. I wanted to ask if we could sit where we wanted but it had been made quite clear that where we sit now is where we sit for the rest of the semester. My heart sunk. The teacher introduced as Mr. Jay Adams- first period- English. He started right away with a "get to know you" assignment. As he handed them out he smiled, “I’m looking forward to your presentations tomorrow,” and retreated to his desk.

The questions seemed to run off the page. I couldn’t focus. I tried.

The first question said: What is one thing you would rather be doing if you weren’t here now? A lot of things but I wrote down the one which was the most reasonable: Taking photos or writing. The second question went something like this: What do you value the most in your life? This was a harder question than the first but I wrote down the best thing I could think of: The people who make up my life, both good and bad. I didn’t have many friends. Most of them were forced friends like my parent’s colleagues kids, or kids of old friends. Very few I called mine. I moved on to the third question: If you had to choose any day of the week to repeat more than once which would it be and why? I didn’t know. I had never really thought about it that much. If I chose any day to repeat more than once I would probably choose Friday because it leads into a weekend. Anything is possible on a weekend. Really cheesy, I know, but I had to put something. The fourth question read: If you could have any superpower you wanted what would it be? This I had thought about too many times. Either reading minds or being able to fit in. Finding other people like me. That’s what I would want. I couldn’t write that. Fitting in? That sounded way worse than it seemed. But, doesn’t everything before it starts out? If I could have any superpower I would probably want to fit in or be able to read people’s minds. The fifth question read: If you could change anything in the world what would you change? For this, I knew what to write. But would I want to read it out loud? Doubt shivered within me. If I could change anything in the world I would change the fact that bad things happen to people. I wouldn’t want an equal or perfect utopia but one where people didn’t have to face pain or suffering. Each person would be unique and special but as a people, they didn’t feel pain or the reason the suffer. There would be no death. Or pain. Or sorrow. Or fear. I gulped, would I want to read that out loud? Then again- did I have a choice? The sixth question was especially tricky: If you could keep one thing about yourself and change one thing would it be? I would keep my slight beauty, my curiosity, my wonder. I would change my strong opinions, my thoughts and my sheltered lifestyle. But that’s what makes you special, that’s what makes you who you are- I thought. I left the question blank. I couldn’t answer it. I didn’t want to change. I moved on to the seventh question: Life has its ups and downs and so do you- what are your strong suits? What are you good at? Strong suits? Me? I wasn’t really good at much. I wrote an answer anyway- too many blanks weren’t a good thing. I am good at writing and taking photos. No, I couldn’t write that, it sounded like I was bragging. I forced myself to keep it. I restrained the eraser and kept going. The eighth question, two more and I’d be done. Question eight: What is the most important gift you remember getting- why? I knew the answer too well, I scribbled my thoughts as soon as I saw the question: The greatest gift I was given was when I was born- the gift of life. Question nine: How do you perceive the world? I had seen this question somewhere. Perceive meant look at. How do I look at the world. I thought about it, I look at the world differently. I see the beauty before I do pain. Something good before I do something bad. A reason to smile before cry. Optimism. With strong opinions- of course. I view the world in a very different way. Before I see anything bad I look at it as something good, as soon as someone tells me something is bad I try it, meet it and see if it’s really what everyone says. Most of the time it’s not. It’s better. But there’s a problem with always thinking things are good. When you really do meet with something bad, you’re shocked, surprised. You are disappointed that something like that could ever happen. It shocks you. I feel that way sometimes. I also carry strong opinions that judge almost everything. Some good, some bad, all of them true. Don’t argue with that last line. I laughed, had I really written that? Yes, I suppose I’ll say it too. The tenth question was this: Who do you really want to get to know in this class? I stopped. I wanted to meet Rishi. I wanted to get to know myself. I wrote both, hesitantly but in decent penmanship. By the end of this year, I want to get to know Rishi and myself. What would people say? What would they think? Why does it matter? Doesn’t it? No, do what you want. My mind argued like Hamilton and Jefferson. I shouted. “Stop!” out loud. My face flushed as everyone’s eyes shot me. They had heard. My hands shivered and my face sweated and flushed red.

“Is everything- all right?” Mr. Adams asked, standing up. His eyes were still sweet and warm but his face held a different look. The class looked like they were going to laugh. My eyes, my slow, lifeless, dark, eyes almost welled up.

“Yes,” I replied back, almost whimpering, “Can I please use the restroom?” I asked. As I got up I tripped on my own backpack. The hidden giggles got louder. Sometimes it felt like only I could hear them. I walked out the door, on the other side of the room and left. Just a moment ago, I thought, I was fine. My breath lowered. I am fine. I walked around the upstairs once and slowly made my way back to the classroom, ready to face humiliation when I went back in. I walked into the class, one by one eyes slid off their papers to me.

“Are you ready to hand your worksheet in?” Mr. Robin asked, afraid I would blurt something out again, I just nodded. I went to my desk, picked up the paper and handed it to him. I was the second one done, Jane August the smartest girl in our grade had finished already and was reading a book at her desk. I had a book but I didn’t feel like reading it. Sometimes when I did my thoughts escaped my mind and came out through my mouth, not again I thought. Luckily, the bell rang and first period ended a few minutes after- the rest of the class already had a sheet of homework. Second period and the rest of the day went by quickly, spending lunch alone I read one of my books and wrote a poem, not a very good one though so I ripped it out after lunch. Homeroom was slow and uneventful on the whole, 6th period was rather boring with PE rules and such. Seventh period was exciting with a new topic for math as well as some review from last year. The last period of the day however extraordinary. We got to choose our seats and I sat next to this girl who I had seen around in a few of my other classes for the past two years. I turned back in my seat after Mr. Arnold gave out a few history sheets which were due tomorrow at the end of class, “H-h-hi,” I managed. I quickly looked down, embarrassed. She looked up from her work,

“Did you say something?”

“I-I-I’m Ari.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said and put her head back down and muttered something. My heart sank. Too soon. Way to soon. I calmed myself but I kept whispering things under my breath that I didn’t mean too. I barely got through my history page when the bell rang. She stood up from her seat, quickly took her things and left, I don’t think she wanted to see me after that. I got on the bus sitting next to Rishi’s sister.

“What’s your name?” I asked her when I got on. “Maya, you didn’t know?”

“No,” I said quietly.

“What’s the most embarrassing thing that happened today?” She asked with a mischievous smile, nothing could have possibly gone wrong for her. I didn’t want to talk about the incident in English so I just shook my head,

“Nothing really.” I managed to say.

“Well, luckily things went really well for me this whole day so I’m actually looking forward to going to school here. I already made a few friends and they’re really excited to get to know me,” she chirped excitedly.

“L-l-lucky!” I said, a bit too excitedly. She noticed and said,

“How did things go for you? Did you meet any of your friends?” I didn’t want to lie, I had barely met her and even when I did know someone, I didn’t usually lie to them.

“I don’t really have many…” I started, she cut me off.

“You probably have some,” she finished as the bus began to roll out of the parking lot. No I thought, I don’t.

“Not really,” small tears rolled down my cheeks, “I was hoping you a-a-and Rishi could-”

“Be your friend?” She finished once again, holding me close. I nodded.

“Do you want to know the most embarrassing part of my day?” I asked her, she nodded in reply.“It was in English, my first period.”

I knew she wouldn’t have thought of it before, but I told her anyway. I explained the ‘putting me in the spotlight’ at the beginning of class and then the assignment he gave us, and then my internal argument over an answer, and then blurting out the answer and going to the restroom. After I finished her smile had morphed into a clam one. Her eyes were no longer cold and fierce, her jaw no longer stiff and sharp. Her smile was sweet and spoke a million words. I couldn’t have had a better reply.

As we got off the bus I asked her if she had a phone number and we exchanged numbers. We had already planned a study session in the evening at her house. From the outside, I suppose, nothing had changed, but on the inside for the first time, I had felt love for someone else besides Amma and Papa. For a kid. For a friend. Real appreciation. Real respect. Real friend. The word sounded good when you said it, “Friend.”

Amma was still at work and Papa was working from home in the master bedroom. I sat down at the dining table and began my assignments, a sheet of homework from math, and a packet of notes from history. Maya and I had agreed to split up the packet of notes so I started math homework. It was a review of linear equations and an introduction to how to graph them. Math was probably my favorite class, here’s why: In math, you don’t get called on for anything, you don’t have to ask any questions in front of the class (you can go to her at the end of the lesson and ask), and it seemed to be done the quickest.

“Papa it’s 5, I’m going to go next door to work on homework,” I said while putting on my jacket.

“All right, come home soon!” He replied from the master bedroom, slipped on a pair of sandals, my backpack half slung on my shoulders, opened the door and walked next door. I wasn’t used to this. I didn’t know why. I had just never done this before. I had been to Jane August’s house a few years ago- in 5th grade when she didn’t think I was weird and she wasn’t the best student in the grade. Those days were gone. I rung the doorbell and was quickly received by Maya.

“Come in!” She smiled and opened the door wider. She had on black sweat pants and a shirt from her old school. “Do you want to do history first or work on math?”

“I already finished math,” I started, “so probably history.” I looked at the floor and noticed other shoes in front of the door. Other shoes, other people. My heart raced. Who else had she called? Why didn’t I know? I gasped for a minute and then exhaled out. I squeezed my hand for a second. She noticed.

“Is everything,” she motioned, “ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I muttered, “it’s just-s-something I do.”

“Oh,” she looked down and nodded and directed me upstairs. “If you don’t mind I invited a few of my friends over.”

“Oh, no,” I replied, “it’s fine.” We walked through the hallways, I tried to silently breathe in and out less and less the closer we got. Although I had been into the house so many times I hadn’t thought it would ever look this good, “you guys really, decorated w-well.” I smiled.

“Thank you,” she smiled, “it’s a lot of our old furniture-” she paused, “wait till you see my room.” We walked into her room, a few girls from school already sitting on the bed. Sara, Laila, and Raina. Even though I only looked at them for a second I attempted a shy wave and looked down. “Ari, meet Sara, Laila, and Raina.” She introduced me first, a slight hesitation in her voice. “Sara, Laila, and Raina- meet Ari.” They slipped a quick hi but ended up creating an awkward silence. I took a seat on the edge of her bed and began my history.

“We’re still on math,” Sara smirked.

“Oh, I-I-I” not now, “I finished.” I gulped. Shh, I tried to calm myself. It’s ok.

“Can we at least see it?” Sara asked.

“Sure,” I tossed my math homework at her.

“Ouch!” She chirped, “I got a papercut- watch what you’re doing!” She squealed, and then went back to her work.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” Maya asked, taking out her phone and a speaker.

“Yea!” I replied quickly, a bit too loud.

“That would be nice,” the girl named Raina replied, she looked up, “can you play something from elementary school days?” Maya, Sara, and Laila laughed a bit,

“Like what?” Maya asked, shuffling through her playlist.

“Party in the USA!” Raina suggested with a roaring laugh. Her laugh alone made the rest of us giggle.

“Sure.” The music started and I bit my lip from singing to it. The girls laughed with the lyrics of the song. The laughter seemed to echo. I tried to concentrate on my work. The longer I spent trying the harder it got. A few seconds afterward, I started to sing. I knew all the lyrics. The room grew silent. A few seconds passed and the room was silent, only the song and I could be heard. My heart began to beat like thunder. My chest felt heavy. My palms began to sweat. I looked down and picked up my pencil. The glare of eyes and the pain of smirks almost itched me.

“You’re really good,” Maya said, as I picked up my pencil. I stopped. I wanted to say something. I bit my lip and pressed my teeth together and asked,

“Where’s the restroom?” I walked down, almost ashamed. For what? What, I didn’t know. The shame burnt as it crept up on me- my face reding. The carpet tickled my feet. The heat from the vents outside her room felt like hot breathing on my neck. I walked into the white- tiled bathroom. It was cold and newly polished. I looked at the mirror. I wanted to say something. I decided to listen instead. Sara, Raina, and Laila began to talk. About me. My chest felt heavier.

“Is she ok?” Sara asked, but there wasn’t any concern in her voice.

“I don’t know,” Maya replied. There was a bit of doubt in her voice. I wanted to scream at myself. Why was I here? What had made me come here? Friendship. I remembered. That dreaded word that I had never truly had to myself. If I ever had it on the bus, it was gone now. There was a knock at the door,

“Are you ok?” It was Maya. I opened the door a bit,

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I managed. “Do you want to come back and join us?”

“I’m fine,” I replied, but then added, “Is Rishi here?” I could hear the other girls’ laughter. I didn’t care. I wanted to know.

“Yeah, he should be downstairs-”

“I want to talk to him,” I quickly cut her off. She walked me down the narrow passageway to the stairs and down the 18 stairs to the dining room.

“Wait here,” she commanded and went to get him. I looked around the room, red drapes took the place of bare white ones. A new wood dining table dominated the once empty area. The entire downstairs had been redone with wood. There was a more open feeling to this house than to anything. A few minutes later, Maya arrived with Rishi, his smile had been replaced with a more serious expression. His glasses looked a little off as well. “Do you want me to stay?” She asked.

“No, I’m fine,” I replied, “You can go upstairs.” Rishi sat in front of me, the wheelchair about as tall as the chair beside me, I decided to take a seat. “How are you?” I asked him, gently.

“Good,” it had been a while since I had heard his slow, calming voice.

“How was the first day of school?”

“It was good,” he started, then after a long pause added, “are you ok? What happened in the first period?”

“Oh, yeah I’m fine.” He had remembered. My heart raced for a moment, but then slowed down. “Have you ever had a best friend?” I asked him- looking into his eyes.

“A best friend?” He asked back.

“Someone you will never forget,” I looked down, “someone who means a lot to you. Someone, you can tell everything too.”

“I don’t know.” He replied back. “Have you?”

“No. But for some reason, I think it would be nice to have one.”

“I used too,” he began, “in my old school.”

“What were they like?” I asked.

“Nice,” he started, “there were two of them.”

“What were their names?” I asked cautiously, each word coming out slow, my heart sunk. It seemed like I was the only one without a best friend. “Ary,” he began, “and Jay.” I smiled. They sounded nice. Their names made him smile a warm, gentle smile- the kind you see on elderly people talk about someone they’re fond of.

“What were each of them like?” I asked. There was a long pause like he was trying to recollect what they were like.

“Which one first?” He replied, his words calm like a sea at noon.

“The first one,” I responded.

“Ary,” he began, “she was really nice, smart, and loud.”

“Loud?” I laughed.

“Yeah, she would always yell at the whole class whenever I tried to talk.”

“Yell at the whole class?”

“To be quiet.” He laughed. I liked his laugh. And I began to like this girl.

“Did she have a lot of friends?” I smiled.

“No, not really,” he started, “she was very loud, extroverted, and loved to make people laugh.”

“But she didn’t have many friends?” I was confused- isn’t that what everyone wanted in a friend? How was I supposed to get friends?

“No, she was eager and nosy. Not many girls wanted that,” he paused, “she was friends with the other person I mentioned. Best friends.”

“What was he like?”

“Quiet. Extremely smart, and talented but quiet. You know- he knew all the street names in the US and all the capitals in the world?” His voice was slow, but even what he said sounded interesting.

“That’s incredible, I’ve never met someone who could memorize so much,” I began, “but, how did two people that different become best friends?” I asked, it sounded almost too good to be true, I laughed at the thought. He joined the quiet laughter,

“I’m not sure,” he replied, “some things don’t make sense.” I checked my watch, it was around 5:45. “Do you have to leave soon?” He asked, a smile almost fading off his face.

“I may,” I replied.

“See if you can come over some other time,” he managed.

“I will,” I replied, I wanted too. “Tell me about them more,” I murmured. He gave back a slight smile, then asked, “Did you want to talk to me… for some reason?”

“Just this.”

“Nice meeting you,” he smiled, almost extending his hand out. I shook it.

“You too,” I whispered. Maya’s mother came in and wheeled him away into his room. She came out a few minutes later and hugged me. I made my way up the winding stairs up to Maya’s room- the thoughts coming back to me again. I closed my ears as I walked in. I didn’t want to hear them.

“Ari,” Maya started as she stepped off her bed, making her way to me. “Please, take your hands off your ears.” She gently took them off. No one was laughing, or talking, or even whispering. Just cruel smirks between girl to girl. I wanted to close my eyes but something in Maya’s fierce gaze caught me. I kept them open. “Is everything all right?” She asked she seemed like she meant it. I nodded. “You talked to him for a while- was it anything in particular?”

“No,” I murmured. I heard a tinge of laughter as I looked down. I felt like covering my ears again. “I have to go,” I replied and tried to walk forward. “Look up Ari,” she said firmly, not harshly, or weakly, but firmly. “Was it anything in particular?”

“F-f-friends,” I said quickly.

“Friends?” She asked.

“Yes.” I was out of words. Actually, I had too many words stuck in my head. I didn’t know which to say first. All I said was ‘yes’. “I-I need to get my bag actually. I was planning on leaving.”

“You didn’t start history yet,” she reminded me.

“It’s all right- I’ll finish it at home.” She moved out of the way and I shoved my folder into my backpack and yanked my bag off the bed. I zipped it up on the floor and threw it on to my shoulder. I heard snickers of laughter as I made my way out of the room.

“Ari !” Maya tried weakly, but I didn’t turn back. I climbed down the stairs and put my jacket on where I had left it. I slipped on my shoes and let myself out. I walked next door, tears building up at the bottom of my eyes. “Please, wait!” I turned around halfway between our houses. She ran to catch up with me. “I’m sorry about that- if you want we can still be friends.”

“No, I’m fine,” I started, “but I will come to see Rishi.” I turned back around and started to walk.

“Ari !” She tried again. I turned around again.

“Yes?”

“What happened back in my room?” She asked, my heart pounded against my chest as I remembered. “Ari?” I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want her to tell everyone. I closed my ears for a minute. “Ari ?” She asked, coming closer to me. I squeezed against them and released them. I dropped my hands.

“I do some things d-d-differently,” I replied, and began to walk home.

“I know,” she whispered, now following me.

‘Then why did you ask?’ I wanted to ask, suddenly stopping.

“Did you mean to do something else?” She asked, “When you saw the shoes?”

“When I saw the shoes I j-just got a bit worried.”

“Worried?”

“That there were other people, besides us.”

“Are you scared of other people?”

“Not of other people. What they say. I panic.”

“What about the singing?”

“I like to sing. Sometimes I do it-” paused, “without meaning too.”

“Like, on default- almost?”

“Yes.”

“So then, when the other girls started laughing-”

“I began to panic,” why was I telling her this? “It’s all right- never mind,” I began to walk home.

“No, I want to know,” she urged. I turned around again. “You began to panic when they laughed?”

“Yes, like an old feeling of being teased.”

“So it’s happened before?”

“Yes. That’s why I’m scared of it.”

“Anxiety, then?”

“Yes.” There was a moment of silence- for her to take in what she had just heard.

“You covered your ears?”

“Yes. Because I didn’t want to hear them.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “I have one more question- if you don’t mind?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you go downstairs and talk to Rishi?”

“I knew he wouldn’t laugh at me.” I began, “That he would understand.” She took my hand gently,

“We all understand,” and pressed it lightly. I don’t know why but tears welled up in my eyes again. I didn’t want to cry. I covered my eyes. She whispered something to me, a slight tone of disgust, “Just because you cover your eyes doesn’t mean the world can’t see you.” The words stung as she turned her back to me and walked home. Why did I do that? I thought. Why did I make people walk away from me? I knew the answers. I too turned back and walked home letting the night sky cover up the holes in the sky. When day breaks again, the holes will return and the problems will arise, till then- I don’t have to worry.

The next morning, I felt numb. I shivered as I woke from bed. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I cupped my hands together and washed my face, splashing handfuls at a time. Then I proceeded to brush my teeth, taking a shower, and dressing. There was something incomplete about it all. Like I was missing something. Something essential. It came back to me, the bitter word which so many people wore on them like pride. Friendship.

I waved a quick goodbye to a sleepy Amma and meditating Papa as I left for the bus stop. The second day of school and I was already dreading it. Breathe in. I reminded myself. And breathe out. I got to the bus stop where Maya was waiting for me. “Sorry,” she chirped quickly. “Sorry for yesterday- I shouldn’t have left you alone in the dark.” I covered my ears. I wasn’t supposed too- but I didn’t want to hear her. “Ari , please- listen to me.” Her words made my neck sweat- people were staring at us. At me. I almost felt like saying something. Screaming something. “Ari , please. Take your hands off your ears.” I did, I jammed them into the pockets of my jeans. “Thank you, now listen.”

“The bus is here,” I responded and got onto the first seat. She slipped in next to me.

“I apologize for yesterday.”

“Why?” I paused for a moment, “you did nothing wrong- right?”

“No, no- I did, I messed up.”

“By calling me and those other girls?”

“No, by saying anything about you- I-I should have stood up for you.” I felt sick. I closed my eyes.

“It’s all right,” I managed to say. Was it?

“Why did you really want to talk to Rishi?” I opened my eyes.

“Why?” I asked her back.

“Was there a reason?”

“I told you. He wouldn’t laugh at me- like your friends,” I knew it hurt for her to hear that, but I said it anyway.

“He doesn’t talk much,” she paused, “to anyone.”

“If you stay to listen-” I began, “everything will make its way out.” The bus stopped and I followed Maya out the bus doors and into the school.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” she began- biting her lip as she said it, “I know- you’ll be mad but, they kept talking about you. After you left.” My heart rumbled against my chest and I began breathing heavily again. “Shhh,” she tried to quiet me- but it didn’t work. I kept walking. “Wait,” she stopped and gave me some water. I drank some and calmed down a bit.

“What did they say?” I asked, after a long pause.

“Nothing important.”

“It must have been if you stopped to tell me.” I knew by the look on her face she couldn’t bear to tell me. She looked down at the tile floor.

“I’ll um, see you later,” she hurried and walked off into the cafeteria. Again, I was left alone. I followed the crowds of students into the cafeteria and waiting for the 8 am bell for first period. Nothing felt right afterward.

The rest of my classes went on undisturbed, but something in my heart ached. Something in my heart put me down.

“Are you going to Maya’s house today?” Papa asked as I came home. I hadn’t told them about yesterday’s experience.

“I might.” But only to see Rishi, I thought. I wouldn’t go to see Maya. I didn’t want to see her. At around 5 I left, this time without a backpack or math homework. I knocked at the door and Maya opened it, “Hi, thanks for coming over!”

“Actually, I-I wanted to see Rishi.”

“Oh. Come in then, he should be in his room,” she replied, something about what I had asked almost unsettling to her. As I walked into the house, memories flushed through me again as I removed my shoes. There were no other shoes. Something relieved me. I knew I wasn’t going to be talking to them, but the thought that there was no one else soothed me. Maya went to his room to tell him I was here and then bring him to meet me. The decoration which I had once admired had faded away into nothing, the house itself had seemed to lose character as it was filtered by my emotions.

“Hi,” he waved as Maya brought him into the dining room. My heart fluttered again- I wasn’t sure why I was used to it by now.

“Hi,” I responded back with the same slight wave.

“Do you want anything to eat? Any snacks?” Maya asked as she adjusted Rishi into the dining room.

“No, I’m fine.”

“All right,” she said as she left the room and climbed the stairs.

“Hi,” I smiled. “H-hi,” there was some reluctance almost in it.

“Can you keep telling me about them?” I asked, recollecting his friends.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything,” I paused, “you already told me what they were like, now maybe what were their hobbies?”

“All right,” he began- something about the smile and the way he talked about them made me realize how much these two people had meant to him. I wonder if they think of him too?