Dad, Ishani's dad, turned out to be a skinny guy with a bunch of bald spots and these kind, smart eyes that reminded me of a poodle. He had this way of talking, listening, and moving that just screamed loyalty to his daughter and wife. He cracked jokes about Ishani's Spanish skills and genuinely thanked me for helping out. Man, I wished I had a dad like that – nothing like ice-cold James, Jessica's dad. Sometimes I imagined my biological dad was this cool dude who just made a huge mistake and split from my mom without knowing she was pregnant, then couldn't find us...
Looking at Mr. Patel, I couldn't help but feel awkward about how little time we'd spent on her language gaps. I lucked out with Spanish, though. When Heather McMillan stopped talking to me like a year and a half ago and I quit swimming, I, as my mom put it, sublimated into Spanish, world literature, and drawing. I drilled Spanish to distract myself, endlessly memorizing words. I've always loved reading, just decided to step up my game and not limit myself to English-speaking authors only. But drawing? It was just a failed hobby that made me cringe every time I looked at my artwork.
When Ishani's dad drove me home, Ishani and I sat in the back watching some dude's Twitch stream. Ishani was all into it, but my mind was totally on Bianca. Ishani had already planned out what we were gonna wear to the birthday bash to make a splash and get some killer selfies for our socials and stories, but I couldn't shake the feeling that things wouldn't go as planned.
When we pulled up to the house, Mom greeted us warmly and offered Mr. Patel a cold non-alcoholic beer, since the evening turned out surprisingly warm and pleasant.
"You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Whiteriver," Mr. Patel remarked warmly.
"Miss," Mom chuckled. "And yes, you're right. Got it at the last minute for a steal."
"Could you recommend your realtor?"
"Do you really want leave your cozy nest? According to Mel's words, you have a beautiful home," Mom turned on her fluffy bunny mode.
"I don't, but my wife wants to move to a more prestigious neighborhood with the rest of the golden housewives."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I'm sure a man like you can convince her otherwise. There's nothing better than a cozy family home passed down from father to son; it's so nice to see the house age and change with you..." she inadvertently patted him on the shoulder as a sign of solidarity. "You're a doctor, aren't you, Mr. Patel?"
"Yes, I'm a surgeon," he said somewhat shyly, as if he'd never heard compliments before.
"Watch," Ishani, not paying attention to our parents' weird conversation, flopped into the Adirondack chair. I cautiously sat down next to her, sneakily observing Mom and Mr. Patel drinking non-alcoholic beer in the backyard: Mom was laughing, and Mr. Patel was enthusiastically recounting some funny incident at work. "How about this fake leather jacket. Just like Bianca's, but even better. Bianca's jacket is so tasteless. Do you think I should buy this one? I have a little pocket money left, gotta ask Dad for some..." She irritatedly nudged me in the side. "Aren't you excited to go? You're not interested at all, huh?"
"Maybe Bianca is not that vindictive. She seems nice, you know. Maybe she won't like to fight with Irene... We might just come for nothing."
"Why are you so annoyed?" Ishani asked grumpily. "All popular kids are the same. Don't let yourself be fooled. Just because she was nice to you for a couple of minutes doesn't make her the saint of the year. Do you remember me, the old good Ishani, who was ditched a year ago by her so-called best friend, the one she thought was the most honest and kind, who, drumroll, is now a popular cheerleader and, to top it off, tosses stuff into Bianca's bag to frame her."
I felt awkward: I couldn't tell her that I didn't like her comment about Bianca, and Mom's almost overt flirting with Mr. Patel really bugged me.
"I just haven't been to parties in ages. I really don't know how to behave," I lied.
"Ooh, sorry! Why didn't you say so right away! Hugs?" Ishani hugged me playfully. "I promise you everything will be fine! We'll have a great time! I'll be with you like a super sexy gluey sticker. Maybe we'll meet some new guys. Bianca definitely has a bunch of friends older than us, maybe from college."
I forced a smile, but inside, her words made me feel awful. I looked up at the evening sky. It was almost dark. The sky was painted in deep hues of indigo and violet, with the last traces of sunlight fading away on the horizon. The weather seemed to match my mood: it started changing. The air felt heavy and still, as if holding its breath in anticipation of the night to come. Streetlights flickered to life, casting eerie shadows that danced across the pavement. The sounds of the city took on a haunting quality, with distant sirens wailing and the occasional rumble of thunder echoing in the distance. There was a sense of mystery and tension in the air, as if anything could happen under the cover of darkness.
I wrapped myself in the pink plaid blanket that Jessica left on the Adirondack chair. Right now, I just wanted to be alone with Bianca.
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