Curtain Call

ACT 1: SCENE 7

COLLEGE APPLICATIONS RULE #1: Never tell the crazy Asian parent network where you were applying—unless you were 100% confident you'd be accepted. The second it caught wind of a rejection, the news would spread faster than fire on dry wood.

An unspoken rule, but Aarav knew that it was an important one. He'd gone to great lengths to ensure that his parents wouldn't leak where he was applying to their friends. They were like vultures circling overhead, ready to swoop in at the first sign of a student's academic mishap. Thus, he had spent the majority of the Vinayaka Chaturthi celebration dodging acerbic aunties and their equally annoying children. He'd been dragged out of bed early on the weekend without time for a cup of coffee, so he was in no mood to play nice.

Not to mention that Aarav was also in charge of watching over his six-year-old sister—Aadhira—who made a habit of yanking on the sleeve of his gold kurta whenever something caught her attention. In another hand, she clutched a small plush elephant. He grumbled again at having to once more smooth out the fabric and bent down to look at her.

"Anna, look!" The little girl jabbed a finger in the direction of two middle-aged women. The Telugu word for brother rolled easily off her tongue.

"Don't point!" Aarav hissed and frantically tugged her hand down. He cursed under his breath and searched for an escape route, but it was too late. The pair had already spotted the siblings and quickly walked over.

"Ah, there he is. Aarav, you've grown so tall since I last saw you!" remarked one who patted his cheek, enveloping him in the faint scent of jasmine. She was small and plump with her graying hair pulled back in a severe bun. She wore a blue saree, the vibrant silky fabric draped elegantly across her body.

He bared his teeth in return—a plastered smile that didn't reach his eyes. Gods forbid he be anything less than cordial or else Amma would have his head. He'd never hear the end of it if he lost face for her. And losing face—that was a fate worse than death.

Both aunties looked vaguely familiar, but he often forgot the names of his parents' friends. Beside him, Aadhira grinned genuinely and ran up to hug both women. His eyebrow twitched and he pushed his glasses up his nose, trying to steady his trembling hands. Unlike Aarav, his little sister had no qualms about interacting with people.

"Your mother tells me you're applying to Stanford," remarked the other auntie who was clad in purple. She was tall and ramrod thin with sharp features and black beady eyes. Her thick dark hair was styled in large waves and heavy kohl rimmed her eyes.

"Well, I'm still considering multiple schools." Aarav winced. So much for family loyalty. He hadn't expected Amma to sell him out so easily but it seemed she had. He silently steeled himself for the following days of inevitable gossip surrounding his academics.

"My son didn't bother applying to other schools last year. Only Ivy Leagues and he got into all of them—unsurprisingly, of course," said blue auntie.

Aarav adjusted his glasses again and snuck a glance at his watch. 10:23 am. Not even five minutes had passed since he'd last checked it. Thankfully, said son was nowhere in sight. His eye twitched while his face started to ache from the fake smile. A mask on the verge of cracking open. "Good for him."

"He knew from the start he was going to Harvard. We tried getting him to consider other schools, but he was certain about his choice. You know how children are." Her thin lips spread into a sickeningly sweet smile.

"It's too bad Stanford isn't an Ivy League," chimed in purple auntie.

"Like I said, I'm still considering," he said through gritted teeth and bowed his head.