Curry Munching with the French Boy

22

AN: LIME LIME LIME

“There’s a conference being held in Sydney, Australia next week, girls,” My father began in an unusually enthusiastic voice, “It’s for doctors and specialists all around the world. Only the very best are invited to go and I have been asked to prepare a course for up and coming students, isn’t that great?” He asked, searching everyone’s faces for the same spark that he had in his own.

“Great.” I mumbled, playing with my plate of pasta.

“Wonderful.” Diya sarcastically snorted.

“Well done.” Gita smiled.

“Daddy what’s a confaruss?” Preeya asked in a baby voice. Ignoring his youngest daughter’s question, he proceeded to speak about his dumb conference.

“However, you’ll be sad to hear that I will be gone for a month or so.”

“Really?” Diya and I perked up at the same time. Now my father had our attention.

“Yes, I leave tomorrow. I’ll be staying with my good friend Harrison.” He announced.

“Awesome, should we help you pack?” Diya excitedly asked.

“No, your mother has already done so. I’ll be leaving very early in the morning so tonight is the last time I’ll see you all till I get back. Diya, Preeya and Gita are to behave and Shrimati must carry out her daily duties as per usual. Are we all clear?”

“Yes Father.” We all chorused, apart from Diya who just ecstatically nodded.

“Very well then. Goodnight girls, I’ll see you all in a month.” Father arose from his place and with long strides, left the kitchen. The moment we heard his room door shut, Diya jumped up and squealed excitedly.

“He’s leaving!” I exclaimed.

“For a whole fucking month.” Diya added.

“What’s ‘fucking’, Dee?” Preeya asked.

“Shut up and go to your room, Preeya.” I interjected before Diya could begin swearing our little sister.

“Come, Pree.” Gita said yanking her away. When the two finally disappeared Diya and I began clearing up.

"How are you feeling?" I asked Diya. You know who had broken up with her four weeks ago and she had taken it pretty badly. He hadn't told her about us, but she suspected he was cheating since I had given him a massive hickey which Diya noticed.

"I'm great, Mals, really I am." She smiled. Something in her eyes told me there was something more to her happy mood apart from our Father leaving.

"You seem extra cheery." I commented, "Is it a boy?"

Diya's smile broadened, "If you must know, yes it is a boy."

"Already?" I asked beginning to wash dishes.

"Yep!" She chirped drying them, "He's perfect. He's smart and funny and handsome. He's better than Devin by far." She nodded. My stomach lurched and my world seemed to stop moving. I stood still, watching the water rush out of the tap as his name echoed in my ears. It seemed like ages since I had heard it. Devin had switched classes and I barely ever saw him at school. The only time I ever caught a glimpse of him was if he happened to be at his locker. During those times we usually held eye contact for a second and awkwardly looked away.

It hurt to see Devin.  He was a constant reminder of the love I had left behind. It's funny how when you're in love everything can remind you of the one you're in love with. A pencil, a book, a song. I had fell into this routine of doing everything possible to remind me of him, even though the thought of him hurt the most. I compiled a playlist of songs that were by his favourite bands that I listened to in my every spare moment. I took up writing, using my heartache as inspiration and goddammit I smoked a lot too just to try and taste him on my tongue.