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1.
There are three things twelve year old Devi Vishwakumar knows with absolute certainty.
Her dad made the best dosas. Paper thin, crispy, the aloo masala accompanying them fragrant and spicy, perfected after several trials, using various spices in different quantities, served with her favourite coconut chutney dyed green from the chilis that made up its base. Mohan made sure to cook dinner at least one night every week, and since her Mom loved dosas but hated making them, her Dad made it a personal mission to master the recipe that eventually become a staple for their household. It was the only Indian food Devi didn't refuse to take to school for lunch the next day, willing to put up with the taunts from the annoying boys in class who would do their best impression of an Indian uncle upon seeing the food in her lunchbox and the girls who wrinkled their noses as if the smell from the cuisine somehow offended them.
Second, she hated field trips. With Fabiola and Eleanor in the other homeroom class, it was hard to find people to partner up with for the educational activities the class was forced to do, and even worse, to find someone to sit next to on the bus that wasn't a teacher or volunteer supervisor who felt bad for the little Indian girl sitting by herself.
And, last but not least, Ben Gross was possibly the most annoying person on the face of planet earth. Or at least sixth grade.
So God clearly hated her, when it was decided by their teacher that the activities during the class field trip to the Natural History Museum in LA were to be completed in pairs predetermined before they boarded the bus in the morning. In fact, God must have absolutely despised her, as Devi found herself, at half an hour until noon, arguing furtively with her assigned "buddy", Ben Gross, over which exhibit would have the last artifact on their almost completed scavenger hunt list.
Though, perhaps God pitied her, just a bit. The only thing keeping her going was the promise of the dosa lunch packed in her backpack, waiting to be consumed at the museum cafeteria as soon as this stupid scavenger hunt was over.
"Whatever, can we hurry up and finish?" Devi retorts, interrupting an ongoing lecture from Ben about the differences between the Triassic and Jurassic eras, as if she didn't already know and score better on the test they had last week than he did, "I'm starving."
"There it is." Ben announces suddenly, spotting the last fossil and checking its name off the last bullet point on their list, the smug smirk surfacing testing Devi's patience. If she wasn't such a pacifist, she would have smacked it right off his face.
"Great, fantastic, you're a genius," Devi huffed, irritated that he'd been right, but too hungry to pursue an argument, "Can we go eat now?"
It takes ten minutes to circle back to the cafeteria from the exhibit, Devi excitedly extracting her lunch from her backpack and looking for a seat, forgetting all about Ben in the process. She chose one next to a couple girls in class, who smiled at her politely but continued their conversation without inviting her to join in.
Devi pretended to not care. She thinks that half of the pretending probably isn't pretending. Concerning herself with why people in her class didn't want to be anything more than classmates was fruitless. She knew who her friends were and that was enough.
Still, it did sting a little when the girls she was sitting with, more than halfway done their lunch by the time she sat down, walked away from the table without so much as a second glance at her.
Only to be replaced by an empty handed Ben Gross barely after the girls had left.
"What, I can't even eat in peace now?"
"Relax David, you just looked a little lonely on your own," Ben says, "Consider it a charitable act for the less fortunate."
"Shut up, asshole," she snaps, registering the absence of his lunch, "Did you eat already?"
"Patty took the day off for her son's birthday, and my mom didn't remember to pack something for me before I left." He tries to sound nonchalant, as if he was unbothered by the fact, but Devi recognized the disappointment.
"Doesn't your dad have like a billion dollars? Can't you just buy something?"
Ben doesn't reply, instead asking, gesturing towards her lunchbox with a tilt of his chin, "What is that?"
"It's a dosa, kind of like an Indian taco," she tries to explain, given the way it was folded up in a taco like shape, then remembering the fork she'd brought along to cut it into pieces, "Actually, it's nothing like a taco. I don't know. It's good, my dad's the best at making them."
The funny thing was, and it was only now that she noticed, Ben had never joined in when their other classmates made fun of Devi for the food she sometimes brought for lunch. One time, he’d even gone as far as berating one of the boys who taunted her mercilessly, albeit only telling him to shut up because he couldn’t focus on a book he was annoyingly reading during lunch. The gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed by Devi at the time, but was quickly forgotten after he’d corrected her in the middle of her history presentation on the Vikings the very next period.
”I see.” Ben frowned, voice dim.
"Hey," Devi asks, no longer able to ignore the sad way his lower lip was on the brink of trembling, "Do you want some of my lunch?"
"No, thanks."
"Come on Ben," she prods, seeing his guard visibly lower as the distrust on his face transforms into curiosity, "Just take it already."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"What's the catch?"
Mildly offended, Devi almost blurts out something rude and sarcastic. But then she remembers she's being nice to Ben.
And she knows if the roles were reversed, she'd be suspicious as hell too.
"No catch." Devi promises, offering the lunchbox once more.
"Fine." Ben agrees, snatching a triangular piece near the top of the pile before she changes her mind.
It's spicy. Way spicier than anything he's probably ever ate before. She almost feels bad for not warning him. But she knows that after the initial heat, there's also a kick of tang and a hint of sweetness that'll make it tolerable. Not enough though to stop the cough that escapes his mouth and causes his eyes to water, Devi snorting in an attempt to cover up her laugh.
She can tell that he tries his best to conceal the smile that surfaces in response to the sound.
"Thanks," Ben says quietly, after a beat of silence, unable to resist throwing in, "David." Devi simply shrugs.
"Whatever, Gross," Devi throws out, adding on, "Consider it a charitable act."
The double meaning behind the former part of her quip probably isn't lost on him, as classy as it may have been, but Devi can't quite bring it in her to inject as much venom in her words as she would have otherwise.
2.
Ben Gross is kissing her.
Devi, Devi Vishwakumar, in case there was any confusion regarding exactly who it was, kissed Ben Gross. Went straight for it, knowing if she thought about it too much she would have chickened out, thrown out a thank you for the ride and busted ass to get out of his car into her mom's parked mere steps away.
So, Devi just did it. Because she wanted to. Even if she couldn't, even if she knew he had a girlfriend, even though she'd been pining over another boy for as long as she could remember.
Devi kissed Ben Gross.
And now, Ben Gross is kissing her back.
It didn't feel real. How could it, when she had spent the bulk of her childhood fostering a rivalry and mutual hatred for the boy she was currently making out with?
Was that a tongue? His tongue?
Ben Gross's tongue was in her mouth.
She can't help it. Beyond her better judgement she laughs, pulling away abruptly, facing an equally confused and flustered Ben who's ears are flushed red.
"What?" He manages to blurt out, eyes wandering to her mouth. Subtlety clearly wasn't his strong suit. Not during his birthday party in his theater room, and definitely not now as he sits flustered across her in his Dad's Porsche.
"This doesn't feel weird," Devi replies, confused herself as the words came out of her mouth, "This should feel weird, right? That's what's so weird. It doesn't feel weird at all."
"Stop saying weird so much."
"You're telling me you don't feel it either?"
"No, I do," he sighs in response, raking a hand through his hair, correcting himself, "I did. But now it just feels-"
"Right?" Devi interrupts, reaching out for the fingers dragging along his hair, grasping them in her hand, the size of his covering hers completely.
"Yeah," Ben lets out, kind of breathlessly, she lets herself think, reveling in the fact that it was because of her, "Exactly."
From the corner of her eye, Devi can see her mom approaching the car. Praying that she hadn't noticed their current position, she swats away Ben's hands, gesturing wildly behind him to indicate Nalini's presence.
"Dr. Vishwakumar!" Ben exclaims, a little too loudly, rolling down his window after realizing she couldn’t hear him, "Good to see you!"
"Yes," Devi's mom replies, eyes flickering between the pair as if she knew exactly what had transpired between them, "Nice seeing you as well Ben. May I have my daughter back now?"
"Mom," Devi interjects, surprising both her mom and Ben, "Can I drive back with Ben? I can get my stuff from his place and come right back home."
Nalini purses her lips, looking back and forth between the two teenagers before her gaze fixates on Devi. It takes all of Devi's strength to not cower, palms sweaty with nerves, anticipating a firm rejection at the proposal.
"Fine," her mom finally lets out, already turning back towards their family car, "Straight to Ben's and back."
"Wait, what?"
"Don't be late, Devi."
Devi's still a little shell shocked when she turns back to Ben, "Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't even ask if you'd be okay with taking me back-"
"Devi."
She can see her mom and Kamala fade into the distance as they drove off back home. It's the last thing she registers before he's kissing her again, less rushed than the first time he'd kissed her back. She felt her body melt, her hands finding their way into Ben's hair. He backs away, thumb stroking her cheek, and the look in his eyes makes her want nothing more than to pull him to her again.
"Of course I'll drive you back."
"You can just take me to yours, I'll grab my stuff and take a Lyft back home-"
"Shut up," Ben retorts plainly, "I'll take you home. Don't worry, it's a Saturday tomorrow anyway."
"You sure?"
"Yeah," Ben says, releasing her from his hold and turning his attention back to the car, grinning as he continues, "Hey, if I didn't die with you berating me on the highway like that, I doubt anything will happen now."
"That's not how statistics work, Ben."
"I'll take my chances. Besides," he declares, starting to bring the car back on the road, briefly turning his attention to her before they start the drive back to the Valley, "I think it's worth it."
The ride back is fairly quiet. Between scattering her dad's ashes, reuniting with her mom, and kissing Ben Gross, all within a singular day, Devi found herself drifting, waking up to Ben gently shaking her a little over an hour later. They walked inside his house together, awkwardly separating as he let Devi collect her stuff on her own, choosing to prop himself on the living room couch while he waited. Devi is grateful, realizing she's been given much needed time to decide on what to say to Ben next.
She gathered her stuff from the guest room, briefly considering the possibility of decorating her room with Doobie Brothers memorabilia, ultimately deciding to sleep on it before making any life changing decisions. Taking tentative steps down the staircase, slowly as possible to avoid starting a conversation she still wasn't quite sure how to navigate, she's surprised to find Ben waiting for her at the end of the stairs, taking her bags swiftly and leading them towards his dad's car.
"Ben, there's literally just clothes in there. I think I can manage."
"Just let me do it anyway, okay?"
It's silent again as they settle in the car. Ben doesn't start it just yet, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Ben-"
"Devi-"
They start simultaneously, laughing at the unison.
"You first." Devi acquiesces.
"It's funny," he says, "I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but now I don't know where to start."
"I know the feeling."
"Okay, how about this?" He takes a deep breath, "I'm going to break up with Shira right after getting you home."
Devi feels her heart sink. She wasn't even thinking about the fact that Ben was still decidedly not single.
"You don't have to, you know," she says, "We can just forget tonight happened. I obviously wasn't thinking clearly, jumping you like that in your car." she jokes lightheartedly, as if she didn't feel guilty as hell.
Ben seems to ponder this for a minute, his jaw clenched, "We can do that," he says, pausing as he turns to look at her, "But I'm breaking up with her regardless."
"Why would you do that?"
"Why would I date a girl when I like someone else?" he counters, flustered. It's the first time either of them has acknowledged their feelings aloud. Wordlessly, he starts the car, driving in silence back to her house. This time, the silence is comfortable, unlike the awkwardness that had settled over them earlier that night. It's silence she's able to tolerate, as she steals glances at Ben when he's focusing on the road, and when Ben's gaze lingers on her as they stop at a traffic light when he thinks she's not looking.
They reach her house without fanfare, Ben getting out of the car before she can insist he doesn't have to, grabbing her bags and following behind her until they reached the door.
"So," she says, accepting the bags from Ben after unlocking the door, "Thanks for the ride."
"You're welcome."
It's dark, but Ben's face is illuminated by the lights peering through the curtains of the living room adjacent to the front entrance, an indication that her Mom, and likely Kamala, were awake and waiting for her.
She kind of wants to kiss him again.
"Well, good night!" Devi exclaims abruptly, extending out a hand for a high five that Ben accepts a split second later, his hand still up in confusion when Devi rushes inside.
Devi smells the pancakes, hears them sizzling on the griddle as she enters, dropping her bags in the living room for now to join Kamala and her Mom for a late breakfast for dinner. Whereas it may have made her upset or even throw a tantrum before, she's surprisingly at peace, her father's absence no longer feeling like a gaping hole in her life. Devi missed him, she always would. But, she was also tired. Tired of fighting, tired of feeling sad.
Nalini notices her, smiling as she calls out to Devi, gesturing towards the stack of pancakes ready to devour on the counter.
"I've decided to pause on the plan to move us back to India." Her mom declares indifferently, as if she'd just said "I'm going grocery shopping tomorrow instead of Sunday." While she wouldn't elaborate on why when Devi asked, Nalini let the conversation with Dr Ryan slip up, and Devi could only silently thank her therapist for coming through even when she clearly didn't deserve it. She would definitely be making amends with her soon.
After reminiscing over pancakes for dinner and quality time with her mom and Kamala, Devi didn't wake up the next day until it was already afternoon. 12:46 PM, she registered, after reaching for her phone on the nightstand next to her bed. Her phone lit up with the time, as well as a singular text from Ben sent around an hour ago.
Ben
Do you feel like hanging out today? We can grab lunch around 12:30. Let me know
11:55 AM
She realizes she's holding a breath when she finishes reading. What about Shira? What about the fact that she'd been pining over Paxton not long before yesterday happened? They literally hated each other, and now all of the fighting and competition were suddenly irrelevant because of one measly kiss?
Okay, two measly kisses. Three, if you count the one where he kissed her back.
Shit.
Fuck it, she thinks, quickly thumbing out a response.
Ben
sorry, just woke up
12:50
lunch sounds good, do you want to meet up around 1:30 instead?
12:51
Half an hour was cutting it close, but she could definitely look presentable within that amount of time. Her phone dings almost immediately.
Ben
I'm kind of already here
Haha
12:52
What the hell. Devi looks outside her window, yanking the curtains open. No Ben in sight. Then, she listens closely, and hears a familiar voice in conversation with Kamala downstairs. She almost runs before remembering the state she was in, bleary eyed having just woken up, and in possession of morning breath that should have been a sin. In a record setting ten minutes, she manages to brush her teeth, change her clothes, and make her way to the kitchen before Kamala can say anything embarrassing.
Kamala grins, waving a goodbye to Ben before going upstairs.
"No shoes," Kamala whispers, pointing out Ben's feet as she walked out of the kitchen, "He's a keeper."
Devi looks mortified, knowing that Kamala's whispering was the equivalent of a elephant trying to be stealthy. There was no way Ben didn't hear that. Thankfully, he doesn't bring it up.
"Hey," he says, "Sorry for not waiting on your response before coming over. Your mom saw me waiting outside and invited me in before heading out. I hope that's okay."
"That's okay," she affirms, joining him near the counter where Kamala had stood before, "Sorry if Kamala said anything weird."
"She didn't," Ben says, offering as an afterthought, "I like her."
"She likes you too." Devi blurts out before she can stop herself.
Ben laughs, scratching his head nervously, "So I heard."
"Lunch then?" Devi changes the topic, rattling off a couple choices they had nearby, where they could walk instead of needing a car or the bus. Ben seems amused, then determined when she's in the middle of describing the pros and cons between the authentic Thai place nearby and a much closer Chick-fil-A in the strip mall a fifteen minute walk away.
"I broke up with Shira."
"What?"
"We broke up. Last night."
"Oh," Devi says, letting out a sigh of relief she didn't realize she'd been holding in up until now, "That's cool."
"It's cool?" Ben asks, lips quirking upwards, and it isn't lost on Devi how this conversation is eerily familiar to the one they had not too long ago.
Except, now, everything has kind of changed.
They put on their shoes and walk outside, a reasonable amount of distance between them as they leisurely made their way. Undecided on where to eat, they resolved to just walk until they came across a place they liked or until they were to tired to continue onward.
"What would you have done if I said no?" Devi chimes out of the blue, the question persisting at the back of her mind since receiving his text that said he was already at her place.
"What do you mean?"
"What if I said no to hanging out?"
"I would have gone back home." Ben answers honestly, "And waited to see you on Monday."
Devi can't help it. She leans forward and gives him a kiss on his cheek, smiling when she sees his barely perceptible stumble as they walk onwards.
3.
"What about this one?"
Devi held up a pinstriped blazer and matching skirt from the sale rack at Old Navy. Shopping on a budget was difficult, but after rummaging through piles of clearance clothing, she'd managed to emerge with a combination that paired perfectly with her white button down and heels at home. Once she got the internship, which she knew she would, given how much work she'd put into preparing for it, ensuring that she'd perfected answers to every possible question they could throw at her during the interview, refining and rerefining her resume until she was content, she'd finally be able to purchase something without being afraid to look at its price tag.
"Very professional."
Ben tagged along on Devi's excursion to the mall, already coming over to her place later that day for dinner anyway. He'd managed to bag an internship at one of his dad's client's offices and was on the hunt for work clothes himself. Although, she highly doubts Ben has ever stepped inside an Old Navy during his life.
"You don't think it'll make me look too old, right?"
"Isn't that kind of what you're going for?"
"No," Devi says, laying the clothes against her body, examining how they looked in front of the full length mirror, "I want to look mature, like I belong there. Not ancient."
As they stood in line for the fitting room, bickering over why mature and old definitely meant two very different things, Devi hears a voice call out her name.
"Devi?"
"Rebecca!" Devi replies, recognizing the figure currently hanging the clothes from empty changing rooms on the rack outside, handing out numbers to the other customers in line waiting to try things on. She sees Ben hanging back, almost forgetting about him as she gave her friend a hug hello.
"Ben," Devi starts, "This is Rebecca, Rebecca, Ben. My boyfriend.
They exchanged a wave, Rebecca handing Devi a number and pointing her in the direction of a vacant stall where she could try on the outfit. The fit wasn't perfect, but it was as good as it could get given the cost she was willing to spend on the clothes. Satisfied, Devi walked out of the room, clothes in tow, going back to where Ben and Rebecca were engaged in lighthearted conversation together.
Devi reached them when Ben was in the middle of asking, "So how'd you two meet?"
"Rebecca is Paxton's sister," Devi explains, "We met when I bumped into her at their house."
"You should come over again sometime, Devi!" Rebecca says, stepping away from the rack of clothes blocking her from being fully visible, "I have another project coming up that I might need your modelling skills for."
"Definitely!" Devi agrees, "Just let me know when and I'll be there."
"We should go," Ben intervenes, swinging an arm around her shoulders, "Your Mom wanted you home by six, remember?"
Devi looked at her phone. It was almost five-thirty, and she did promise to be home in time to help with dinner.
"Shit, you're right," she says, shoving her phone back into the pocket of her jeans, giving Rebecca a hug, "Text me!"
As they depart, heading towards the register to pay for the clothes, she notices Ben's arm is still wrapped around her, shifting its position from her shoulders to rest more comfortably around her waist.
"All good?" Devi asks as they make their way to the lot where Ben's car was parked, a gift from his parents after they missed another birthday, and the perfect opportunity to make up for it as he had coincidentally just received his driver's license. His easygoing demeanor shifted into something more tense since the conversation with Rebecca, and she was starting to get concerned.
"Yeah," Ben responded a little bluntly, "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I don't know," Devi says, "You just sounded a little weird near the end there."
"What do you mean?"
"With Rebecca?"
"Oh," he says, getting into the car before continuing, "You mean Paxton's sister? She's great, by the way. You should totally go over there more often. You know, to her house." Devi hears a muttered "And Paxton's" under his breath.
"Wait," she starts, buckling her seat belt, "Are you jealous?"
"What? Me? Jealous?"
"That's what I just said."
"Come on Devi, do you really think I'm that petty?"
"You still haven't answered the question."
”Fine!” He relents, “Maybe a little.”
She quirks an eyebrow at him, amused, “You know you have nothing to worry about, right?”
“Not worried,” he returns automatically, reversing out of the lot, “Let’s just go back to your place.”
And before it could get any more heated, the conversationcut itself short. Devi wasn’t sure how to approach the topic. Ben had never showed any signs of insecurity before at the mention of Paxton. They’d even all hang out as a group from time to time without any hassle. It’s only when Ben parks the car, unlocking the door so they could get out, walking to her side when she understands.
”Really, I’m not jealous,” he sighs, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes focused on the ground, “It just sucks to see you close with Paxton’s sister while my parents aren’t exactly the invite you over for dinner every weekend kind of family.”
“Maybe,” she agrees, coaxing out one of the hands in his pockets, grasping it tight, “But mine is. And last time I checked, you’re the one they’re inviting over every weekend, not Paxton.”
“It doesn’t bother you that my family doesn’t care?”
“Honestly, what bothers me is that my Mom seems to like you more than me half the time.”
“Can’t blame her for that.”
“Shut up, Gross. Come on, it’s almost six, wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect track record.”
4.
"Hey."
Devi feels a poke in her side, right in the ribs, startling her out of her engrossed state. Integrals were the bane of her existence, and quite possibly the only concept she wasn't able to grasp immediately after a lesson. And it bothered her. A lot. Enough to make her irritated even with Ben pouting at her from the other side of his bed, his own homework tossed on to his carpet long forgotten, notes and pencils strewn in between them, his and hers all jumbled together.
"What?" Devi huffs impatiently, eager to wrap up the chapter in her Calculus textbook so she could check another topic off her to do list.
"I'm bored," Ben says, dragging the last syllable of the word out as he switches to lying down from his seated position, purposefully placing his head in her lap, obstructing access to the homework she'd spent the last half hour or so mulling over.
"And?"
"Let's go get some ice cream."
"I need to finish this first."
"Iced coffee?"
"Ben."
"Indian food?"
"Oh my god." Devi mumbles defeatedly, closing her book, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to distract me so you'd get the better grade on the midterm next week," she says teasingly, with a hint of accusation, carding her fingers through his hair.
He laughs, "We both know you're the smarter one."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Ben Gross."
"Even away from studying?"
"Just let me finish this chapter, okay?" Devi relents, knowing that she could've continued if she really wanted to, and Ben wouldn't have stopped her.
After a year of dating, he'd gotten good at reading her. He'd argue by saying she'd been transparent to him way before they'd started dating, before they became tentative friends even. Whether she agreed on that front or not, she had to admit that as a boyfriend he could sense what she was feeling with a simple look at her face.
And right now, she really didn't want to study.
"Finish the chapter." Ben agrees, but his head stays in her lap, refusing to move from its spot.
"I actually need to read the textbook to do that, smartass."
"And yet," he counters, smirking, "I don't hear you complaining."
Devi halfheartedly punches him in the shoulder with the hand not in his hair, stroking the slightly longer than usual stands out of and into place.
"Your hair's getting longer," Devi remarks absentmindedly, "Want me to cut it?" She means it as a joke, but it comes off half serious.
"I'm not sure if that's supposed to be a joke," Ben starts, reaching over to grab the hand not in his hair, "But I'll hold off on the offer for now. Besides, I thought I'd let it grow out. Try something new."
"Huh."
"What?" Ben asks, suddenly sitting up to face her, "You don't think it'd look good?"
"You'd look good to me if you put a bowl on your head and cut around it."
"So just to you then? You don't think I'd look sexy with a bowl cut in general?"
"I'm sure TheRealPickleRick69 would find you sexy in a bowl cut too."
"Hey," he says indignantly, edging closer until their knees touched, "I told you that story in confidence!" Ben launches at her, hands in ready tickling position, aiming for her sides where he knew she was most sensitive.
"Sorry, sorry," Devi manages in between bursts of laughs, ending up flat on her back when his tickling turns ruthless, "Sorry! I take it back, get the bowl cut!"
He's hovering over her after their laughter subsides. The air turns tense, and as comfortable as she feels with Ben ninety-nine percent of the time, this was a perfect example of the one percent where she finds herself unsteady, overwhelmed, and confused about why.
"Guess I'll have to find a new boyfriend," she proclaims, willing herself to relax.
"What?"
"You know, since all the girls will be flocking to Ben with the bowl cut before I can pry them away."
That gets a snort out of him, gaze shifting towards her lips, her own eyes following suit.
"So," Ben says abruptly, "About the homework-"
"Do you want to?" Devi cuts him off, not stopping to think the consequences through.
"Want to what?"
"Do you want to have sex?"
Ben looks like he's going to choke on air.
"With me." Devi clarifies.
Just in case.
"D-do you?" Ben manages to stutter out, after his initial struggle.
"Yes," Devi replies almost immediately, "I think so."
"Are you sure?" He asks again, "There's no rush, and you know I'd never pressure you into something you aren't ready for. Consent is super important to me-"
"Ben," she says quietly, placing her index finger on his lips, "You're rambling."
"Was I?
"Kind of," Devi responds, "A lot, but it's sweet."
"Haha." He manages to laugh out weakly.
"I'm sure." She repeats, this time more assuredly, firmly so that there's no room for vagueness or hesitation evident.
Devi's never been more sure about anything in her life up until this point. And then it hits her.
She's going to have sex with Ben.
She's losing her virginity to Ben.
Did she remember to put on deodorant in the morning? He would've noticed by now if she hadn't right? Maybe he was just being nice by not mentioning it.
"It's my first time too," he says quickly. Devi guesses it's because she's been silent for a beat too long.
"Who said it was my first time?"
"You?"
"Oh, right." Devi remembers that awkward moment when she came to house the first time after they'd officially started dating, when things started to get a little too hot and heavy and she had to stop him with the heel of her palm against his chest, frustrated but firm, before she did something she knew she'd regret. Something she absolutely did not want to regret.
"Yeah."
"Really? For you too?" She questions disbelievingly, "What about Shira?"
"We got close," he admits, "But the timing was never right."
"If it was would you have gone for it?"
"Maybe," Ben shrugs, laying down beside her so that their bodies touched, head turning sideways to face her, "But I wouldn't have been ready for it."
Not like now. He doesn't have to say it. The feeling is palatable because she feels the same way too.
When she proposed sex with Paxton, it was a means of acknowledging her grief without actually doing anything about it. It served as an outlet for dealing with her father's death, her mother's indifference, the chasm between her and her friends deepening until it reached where she thought there was no coming back from it. It was a point of obsession, a distraction from the truths she desperately wanted to ignore.
With Ben, it feels like a culmination. Of a nemesis turned friend turned boyfriend who was now one of her best friends. There was a foundation, and most of all, it felt right, unlike all the ways it didn't in the past.
She was ready.
"I'm ready."
He stares at her, waiting for her to take it back. And when she doesn't, he kisses her like it's the first time, like they're in his Dad's Porsche again, overlooking Malibu beach after Devi sprinted back to him with a newfound energy she couldn't quite describe using words.
It feels like the first time, and poetically enough, it kind of was.
5.
"I got in!" Devi exclaimed excitedly, launching herself at Ben when they met up for lunch. She'd received the acceptance email from Princeton during Biology, the one class that she didn't have with her boyfriend. After calling her mom and having a mini celebration with Fabiola and Eleanor, Ben was the only other person she wanted to tell right away.
"See!" Ben replies, lifting her slightly off the ground as they hugged, "I knew you would."
"What about you?" she asks, leaning out of the embrace, eyes shining, "You too, right?" She knew Harvard had also sent out acceptances, as Fabiola received her acceptance for their Computer Science program today.
Ben's suddenly quiet, lowering her back down, arms still draped loosely around her waist, “I didn't."
"Oh." Devi replies, unsure of how to continue.
"It's not a big deal," he comments offhandedly, trying his best to sound nonchalant.
"Ben I-"
"Seriously, it's fine," he reassures, jokingly adding, "There's other colleges besides Harvard. At least one has to take me."
Devi can tell he's trying to make sure she doesn't feel bad about being happy. If Ben's determination to get into Harvard was even half of the drive she had instilled in herself to get into Princeton, she knew he was more upset about it then he let on. She mentally goes through the list of things she had to get done this afternoon, both school and extra curricular related, satisfied that no one would die if they were accomplished tomorrow instead.
"Come on," Devi declares, dragging him outside of the courtyard where they had lunch when the weather wasn’t sweltering hot, "We're ditching class."
"I have a test tomorrow!"
"Don't lie and tell me you're not ready for it."
He looks back and forth, between the school and their interlocked hands, Devi almost rolled her eyes at how seriously he was taking this. Senior year was the year everyone stopped caring about their GPA, resume building, and just rode out the wave until graduation eventually came. Everyone, except Ben, of course. Then again, it’s not like she would act any different.
"Alright Ferris Bueller," Ben sighs, finally giving in, "Where to?"
“Depends,” she starts, listing off all the options as they pop up in her mind, “We can go to the mall, or that place with the really nice ice cream by the harbour? I heard the NHM has a new exhibit they just set up last week, we could check that out? Or we can just go back to my place and hang out?” She stops short when she notices Ben isn’t saying anything, just staring at her with an awed expression.
"I kind of love you. Like, a lot, you know?"
"Eh," she teases, pulse speeding ever so slightly at the words, kissing him so he doesn’t see her blush, "I guess I do too."
+1
"You look beautiful." Kamala declared, perfecting the last of the loose curls on Devi's head.
"Don't lie." Devi almost scoffed, scrutinizing her face in the vanity mirror as Kamala worked her magic. It figures that the nastiest pimple to ever grace the face of a high school senior at Sherman Oakes would choose to make an appearance on her senior prom night. Smack in the middle of her right cheek, where even Eleanor's thickest concealer, the one her friend used for stage performances where the spotlight would accentuate every conceivable flaw, barely hid its inflamed, red, center.
She wanted to cry.
She would've cried, if it didn't mean ruining her otherwise pretty okay-ish looking face. Her mascara wasn't clumpy, the lipstick she chose made her look 'perfectly decent', according to her mother, and the trip to Indira Aunty, who threaded eyebrows and waxed upper lips from the comfort of her home, was definitely worth the sting that prevailed for hours after Aunty had completed the task.
If only separated lashes and mom approved lips were enough to distract from the hideous otherworldly planet that had decided to make its home on her face.
"It's not even that bad," Kamala said reassuringly, turning off the curling iron and arranging the ringlets on top of Devi's head, struggling to speak with the bobby pins stuck in her mouth as she fixed the hair into place, "No one's going to notice, especially when they see how good you look in that lengha."
The lengha in question was laid out on her bed, steam ironed to perfection last night, so that the folds creasing the fabric weren't as apparent as they were when the outfit had been delivered from overseas in a haphazardly put together DHL parcel, layers of masking and clear tape sealing it shut. When Devi brought up the possibility of wearing something traditional for prom, lingering on the image of a beautiful gold blouse and flowing skirt combo she had found on her Instagram feed making an appearance in her camera roll between little black dresses and sparkly prom fare, as she swiped through her findings with her mom and cousin, Nalini and Kamala had exchanged a surprised look.
"Kanna," her mom started, reaching for the phone and zooming in on the outfit to assess its details, the lace borders and sparkly neckline glinting in the studio lighting where the model's picture had been taken, "A lengha? Not that I'm against it, in fact I think it was my favourite of all the options," she continued, Kamala nodding enthusiastically in agreement, "But are sure it's what you want? It just doesn't seem like you."
It's not like Devi can blame her. It was hard enough to get her into a saree or a kurta for puja, or visits to their family friends and relatives. And while she'd grown past the stage of being embarrassed by the loud colours and how she stood out when she wore more traditional fare, even Devi was surprised that she was actually considering a full blown out lengha when she finally had an excuse to was wear something else. It was what Devi in elementary school, who was forced to dress up as an 'Indian princess' in her salwaar kameez for Halloween, had always dreamed of, wearing a big, beautiful, gown like the actual princesses in the movies she watched obsessively growing up. Excluding Princess Jasmine, of course.
"I don't know," Devi admitted, not quite knowing why she was leaning towards the idea more and more by the second, "I didn't really think it was me either. But it's such a pretty suit, don't you think?"
Her mom smiles in return, frowning as she reads the caption that got captured when Devi took a screenshot of it, "It's beautiful, but the price-"
"We can get Nani ma's tailor to make something similar," Kamala chimes in, referring to Nalini's mom, Kamala and Devi's grandma back in Chennai, reaching for the phone herself to take a closer look, "She's done it for me before too. Remember? The saree I wore to Anjali's wedding last fall?"
Devi did remember. If her and Prashant's steady relationship wasn't the subject of all the gossiping aunties at the wedding, she was sure Kamala in her dazzling emerald green outfit would have ended up with a marriage proposal from every single bachelor at the event by the end of the night.
“There, done.” Kamala announced, stepping back to admire the final product. Devi roused out of her thoughts to glance at the mirror, almost doing a double take. Kamala had somehow made her hair, which she loved most days, but hated taming into something she was pleased with, kind of beautiful? The waves had been reshaped into uniform loose curls, piled in an intricate updo held securely with plenty of invisible bobby pins. Devi tested it out, moving her head side to side, delighted that it stayed in place. She picked out a few tendrils to frame her face, grinning as she hugged her cousin.
"Thank you, Kamala!"
Kamala hushes her, telling her not to get too emotional, otherwise she'll ruin the look. However, Devi notes the smile on her cousin's face when she says this, and simply hugs her tighter.
With her hair done and her make up looking as good as it would get, she hurried to try on the lengha. She knew it would fit perfectly, but this was the first time she was wearing it after getting it delivered a little over a month ago. Praying that the last few late night study sessions with the girls and the snacks that came along with them didn't do too much damage, she eased into the blouse first, careful to not ruin any of Kamala's hard work, leaving the zipper at the back open for now until she got the skirt on.
Devi’s in the process of tying the lengha into place when her phone buzzes. It was exactly 4:55 PM, five minutes before the agreed upon time her and Ben has decided to meet up. She’d come to expect his punctuality, and he in turn, accept her slightly not at all unreasonable lateness.
Ben
Look outside
4:55 PM
She does.
Ben
...you didn't
4:57 PM
The Jeep parked outside definitely did not look like the Mercedes Mr. Gross had bought Ben shortly after he got his license. She almost mistook it for some rando who was idling on the curb in front of their house, until Ben stepped out of the car, walking towards the doorway.
"What the hell, Ben?" Devi cries out, rushing downstairs and opening the door before he got the chance to knock on it, throwing herself at him.
"Surprise?" He says, laughing as he struggles to balance.
"You think?” She leans back, willing herself to tone it down after wincing at how shrill she sounded, “Ben, this is amazing!
As if the night couldn’t get any better, she noticed the pimple on his chin, much less catastrophic than hers, but there all the same.
“We match!” Devi said, grinning as she points between the two, “I feel so much better now.”
He inspects her face, cradling it in his hands as he looks closely, grinning, “Can’t even see anything.”
“You sure know the way to a girl’s heart, don’t you?”
“Only yours.”
Devi can’t resist. She kisses him lightly, careful to not ruin any of the makeup she painstakingly applied earlier on.
She invites him inside, knowing that her Mom would get pissed if they didn't take the prerequisite prom photos before leaving.
"Uh, Devi," Devi hears Ben's strained voice behind her.
"Yeah?" She replies, tilting her head back.
"Not that I'm complaining, but I think you forgot about something?" He says, pointing out the open zipper at the back of her blouse.
"Can you get that for me?" Devi says distractedly, searching for the matching shoes she'd laid out the night before.
"Maybe, if you could stand still for five seconds."
Devi huffed, pausing her search to stand up, positioning herself in front of Ben who did up the blouse, way more slowly than necessary.
"Ben," Devi starts, trying not to let his breath brushing up against the back of her neck affect her voice, "Did you get the dates mixed up?"
"Huh?"
"Prom is tonight, not tomorrow." she asks, referring to the zipper, "Is it stuck or something?"
He zips up the rest in one swift motion, turning her around. He looked serious, and Devi felt her concern dialing up.
"You just," he says, giving her a once over, before his gaze settled on her face, pupils slightly dilated, "You look- You look really hot."
"Seriously? Right now?" She smacks him lightly, "Come on, we're going to be late."
"Isn't that my line?"
"Devi? Is Ben here yet? I want to take pictures!" Nalini called out from the living room, causing the pair to jump apart. While Devi's mom was fully aware of their relationship, there was no reason to flaunt it in front of her.
With Ben's help, Devi found her shoes, adjusting the strap while her Mom cooed over how cute they looked together. After a prolonged photo session, they headed out.
Prom itself was an event Devi knew she'd never forget. But it wasn't in the way she thought it would be memorable. For all the hype in every movie targeted at teenagers in the history of cinema, prom itself was a little pathetic. She enjoyed her time dancing with her friends, taking pictures in the photo booth and reminiscing over the last four years, but by the end of the night, she realized she would have had just as much fun hanging out with her friends at one of their homes.
They all decided to ditch early, piling into cars divided into groups and driving over to the nearest McDonalds. It was a sight to see, a group of ten or so teenagers, dressed to the nines, eating Big Macs and slurping on milkshakes, laughing away at their own antics that were definitely more annoying than funny to anyone else outside their squad.
After what was probably the tenth dirty look received by them, they called it a night, some heading over to Paxton's house for an after party, others heading back to their respective homes, Devi being one of the latter per her mother's strict curfew orders. Ben grabbed an extra bag of fries and a milkshake to share, citing the necessity for snacks during the ride back, which Devi held herself back from pointing out was only about twenty minutes long. Instead, she relaxed against the passenger seat as she climbed into the Jeep beside Ben, hand naturally reaching for his as she looped their fingers together. They spoke quietly, tired from the night, about everything and nothing at the same time. College, their friends, anything that came up. Anything, except conveniently enough, their relationship. Way faster than she'd hoped, they arrive back at her place.
"I don't want this to end." Devi whines, perfectly content to spend the rest of the night with Ben in the rented Jeep, listening to his totally basic Top 40s playlist on repeat. Ben looks at her curiously, reaching over with a hand to smooth out the curl that had escaped from the confines of her hairdo behind her ear.
"It doesn't have to." He says cautiously, trying to gauge her reaction. She shoves him lightly almost immediately, like a reflex, at the prospect of anything suggestive.
"Ben!" Devi whisper shouts. Knowing her mom, there was no way to confirm she wasn't lurking around outside, waiting to reprimand her on being late.
Dr. Vishwakumar liked Ben, loved him even, for keeping Devi on her toes and grounded in a way that Devi herself would admit she wasn’t before, but it had taken her a long time to get used to the idea of them as a couple. Devi wasn't going to push it, not when she was finally allowed to stay out past 9 PM with her boyfriend without having to pretend she was sleeping over at Fabiola's or studying late at the library.
It was almost 10 PM. Her mom had graciously extended her curfew, just for tonight, even going so far as to encourage her to have fun instead of acting all sour about it like she might have any other day. Devi was grateful, but apprehensive all the same.
"Not like that!" He rushes out, "I meant, you don't have to go home just yet."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your mom said it was okay if we stayed out a little late tonight. Within a reasonable threshold, of course."
Devi gives him an are-you-kidding-me look, "Are we talking about the same person? My Mom?"
"Text her." Ben urges, to which Devi does, surprised at the response she receives back saying, 'have fun but not too much fun, remember who's daughter you are'.
"No way," Devi refuses to believe it, "There's absolutely no way that was her."
"It was."
"I can't believe my mom agreed to this."
"You think it was easy to convince her?" He quips, starting up the car once again after Devi was sure she had her mom's approval, "Good thing I had Kamala on my side too."
"Kamala knew?" Devi asks in awe, "I had no idea."
"Yeah," Ben says, "It was a team effort."
She looks at Ben's kind face, the line of his jaw and the way the muscle there clenches when he ticks with anger. The peak of stubble dotting the sides of his face so that it tickled hers when they kissed. Devi wanted so badly to keep her eyes open and stare some more, but even she couldn't pretend that she wasn't exhausted, the yawn coming before she could manage to muffle it.
"Take a nap," Ben remarks, noting her tiredness, "I'll wake you up when we get there."
"Where are we going again?"
"Never mind that, just go to sleep."
"Sounds a little serial killer to me, but okay." she gives in, too tired to argue.
Devi rouses out of sleep on her own a little later, while Ben is parking alongside the curb. She looks out the window, almost choking on her spit when she recognizes where they are. The night may have shrouded everything in pitch black shadows, but there was no mistaking the scenery of Malibu beach.
"Do you like it?" Ben asks hopefully.
"Ben-" she starts, at a loss for words, not quite believing he'd taken her offhanded comment about big romantic gestures during a movie they went to go see seriously. "I don't care how cheesy they are," she had proclaimed confidently, "Bring on the cheese, I've got lactose pills ready." He'd laughed at the latter part, and they'd moved on. Or so she thought.
"I love it." Devi finishes, climbing out of the car. Ben followed, gesturing for her to walk around with him to the back of the vehicle, where it was facing the ocean. The waves were steady, the sound discernible yet quiet. Calm.
He opened up the back door, laying the seats flat so they could sit atop them.
"You're kidding."
"Dinner by the seaside," he says dinner in air quotes, rubbing the back of his neck, "It's stupid, I know, but I just couldn't get the idea of us coming out here, like this, out of my head."
Confident, headstrong, occasionally sassy, Ben, her boyfriend, actually looked like he was nervous. He continues, "I can drop you off at home if you're not feeling it, it's a long drive but you can sleep on the way back-"
It just registers to Devi that she's been quiet during his spiel, letting him ramble as her thoughts wandered. She cuts off his sentence with a swift kiss, winding her arms around his neck.
"It's perfect," Devi punctuates with another peck, "I love it. Thank you."
That gets her a blush that she'll never let him live down. But she'll hold off. For tonight.
The fries have probably gone cold by now, Ben insisting on saving them for their destination. The milkshake they were sharing had gone warm, unfinished by the time she dozed off in the car. It might have been smarter to purchase the food somewhere closer to the beach, she points out, as they settle into the back of the Jeep, to which Ben retorts would have ruined the surprise.
They bicker like they're kids again, except there's a warmth to their tone, tinged with familiarity, friendship, and love. The kind of arguing with no bite to it, the kind that made you feel at home.
And, the Ben from her childhood definitely would not have kissed Devi like he was kissing her right now.
"What are you thinking about?" He asks as they untangle from one another. For air, and for the few remaining fries in the seemingly never ending supply contained within their paper bag.
"Nothing," Devi trails, reaching for the bag of fries, popping one in her mouth before leaning against Ben’s side so that her body aligned with his, curves and dips slotting against each other so that they just, fit.
She wants to say, You, us, everything.
How I'm so happy right now, that even if this was where it all ended, I'd be okay with it.
High school was almost over, and the future of their relationship, of them, hung open in the air. They'd talk about it eventually, she figures. There was still a whole summer in between graduation and moving out for college. If Ben and her were good at anything, it was prolonging the inevitable. Besides, Yale wasn't that far from Princeton, as Ben had remarked offhandedly after accepting their offer shortly after getting over the rejection from Harvard.
It meant he was thinking about them too, and for Devi, for now, that was enough.
She thinks back, to the days where they taunted each other mercilessly, the crass exchanges they indulged in without caring or pausing to think how they'd affect one another.
She thinks, and she almost laughs, wondering how sophomore Devi would react to present day Devi hanging out in the back of Ben Gross' rented Jeep straight out of her collection of favourite romantic comedies and teenage fantasies, donning a traditional lengha choli instead of the strapless sparkly dresses she'd seen on seniors when she was a freshman and had sworn to save up for for her own prom, eating soggy french fries from McDonalds after midnight under the backdrop of a starry sky stretching across the expanse of the endless Malibu beach, dark waters lit up under the reflection of the moon, and realizing there’s nowhere else in the world where she’d rather be.
"Nothing?"
She smiles, swiping away the salt on the corner of his lip from the French fries with the pad of her thumb, kissing the spot where her hand had been.
Just because she wanted to. Because she could.
"Yeah." Devi murmurs quietly, leaning in for another kiss, this one longer. Deeper. She feels Ben sigh into her mouth.
Pulling away, he holds her face gently in his hands. Her lipstick's made its way onto his face, smudges of pink hues barely perceptible in the dark. She feels herself warm, knowing she's the only one who can get close enough to see them.
She's sure he can tell its not nothing. He knows her too well to believe otherwise.
Instead, Ben simply guides her to his lap, kissing her again as she settles, mumbling three words against her lips that makes them turn upwards as she giggles right into the kiss.
"Me too," he says, fondly, words tinged with the memories of their past and an unspoken promise of their future,
"David."