I dig through my backpack for my headphones, and when I straighten, Krish is holding a paper bag of cookies. “Want one?” he offers.
I shake my head.
“Come on. You know you want to.” He waves the bag infront of me. It smells caramelly and nutty, and for a moment, I’m tempted—especially when my eyes land on the label.
“All right.” I stick my hand in and pull out what turns out to be pecan caramel shortbread.
“Sagar said you have a sweet tooth,” Krish says, biting into his own shortbread.
I look at Sagar, surprised. “What?”
“You’re always bringing brownies and stuff to class,” Sagar mumbles, not really looking at me.
It’s true, but... “I didn’t know you’d noticed,” I say, a little bemused.
“He’s a great noticer of things,” Krish proclaims.
“That’s not a word.” Sagar snatches the bag away.
“Sure it is,” Krish insists.
Krish continues to talk, but I’m not paying any attention as my eyes drift back toward the label.Risky Biscuits. It’s a popular bakery a few towns over, but all I can think about is a singular memory of a different boy holding a similar bag of cookies, and my heart beats ever so slightly faster.
TWO YEARS AGO
He wasn’t coming.
I exhaled, feeling my hope dwindle away as I stood on the motel roof, looking out at the blur of cars on the freeway. Sahana had very rationally—and very unhelpfully—pointed out that he could have quit speech and debate or moved to adifferent school district. But I hadn’t been able to keep myself from hoping that he’d be here when I snuck out.
My phone buzzed in my hand. More texts from Sahana because I’d ignored her first three.
Hello????
Did he show up yet???
Stop sulking and text me back!!
I shoved the phone in the back pocket of my jeans, letting the disappointment wash over me. I’d been waiting for thirty-seven minutes. If he wasn’t here yet, he just wasn’t coming.
This is for the best, I told myself, trying to rationalize the way Ms.Mehta taught us.This way, you’ll get a good night’s rest before tomorrow’s tournament. At least Sagar will be pleased.
Maybe if I told myself that enough times, I’d start to believe it. I turned around.
And froze.
Because I’d been wrong. He hadn’t stood me up. My breath caught as I realized that he was actually there, standing in front of me. I was too stunned to say anything for a moment. I simply stood there, studying him, making sure it wasn’t just my imagination conjuring him out of some desperate desire. He looked just as I remembered him—better, actually, without my memory blurring the sharp edges of his features.
He took a step toward me, his eyes unreadable.
I wanted to say something cool or clever—something thatdidn’t make me seem like I’d spent a whole year thinking about him. I could practically hear Sahana’s voice in my head telling me to be coy, to keep my real feelings close to my chest. But I’d never been good at hiding my earnestness, so I said the only other thing I could think of.
“You’re actually here.”
“I promised I would be.” He smiled a little and held out a paper bag in his hands. “And besides, I owe you cookies.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You made them?”
He laughed, and it sounded gravelly and deep. I wondered for a moment what he sounded like when he laughed as a human. “Trust me. You don’t want to eat anything I bake.”
