Palindrome

Nineteen

Chapter 19

Javed <3

First off I'm sorry for being an absolute jerk.

And I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in a while.

And I'm just sorry for everything.

And it won't happen again.

And I really miss you and love you and it's just that I've been off for a while.

And I'm sorry.

Won't happen again, I promise.

                                      Aarohi Aunty
Good to have you back asshole.

                                            Facetime?

Javed <3

Yeah

I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe I've just been let down so much that I didn't think he would actually call. Five seconds after he sent that message though, my phone lit up with his contact info and that one picture of the two of us I had from middle school. I stare at it in disbelief. His toothy grin grinning wildly as I towered over him with a peace sign held up.

I cringe every time I see myself in that godforsaken picture.

But then again, nothing much has changed.

I literally flipped myself off in the mirror the other day.

Anyhow.

"Hey," I greet, sliding to take the call.

Javed's face lights up on the screen. His hair's grown out so that it's a curly mess on his head, his skin is much tanner and his features seem to have become a lot more prominent too. 

Would you look at that?

Puberty finally hit my best friend.

"Hey Aunty," he says grinning cheekily.

"Hi Nerd," I greet back, finding my lips twitch amusedly.

He laughs, running a hand through his hair. "Man I missed you so fucking much Aarohi."

That's the thing with Javed. We nag each other to no end, but then there are moments when he'll let his guard down and say things like this. And I guess that's when I know that he cares.

"I wasn't the one MIA," I tell him with mock outrage.

Normally he'd roll his eyes at my wry tone. This time he smiles sheepishly, rubbing a hand on his jaw, "I've just been really busy with robotics and whatnot."

"How's that going?" I ask.

His eyes light up at that and he goes off on a tangent about all of his competitions while I listen amusedly. I realize halfway through that this is what I needed. Sitting here, listening to him drawl on as if nothing's changed.

"Is your leg alright?" I ask once he's done telling me about the cheerleaders that have been hitting on him. About six months ago Javed began complaining about this ache in his leg, or his hip. The details are fuzzy because we haven't talked about it in a while about it. Or anything really.

But he told he had this non-malignant tumor that they needed to deal with. I'd been down his ass about getting a second opinion because all he did was take medications for the pain.

He winces, "Yeah we got a second opinion for it. I have a surgery for it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I repeat squeakily. "Javed, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I'm telling you now," he argues half-heartedly.

Sighing, I hold my hands to my face resisting the urge to scream into them. Maybe I could drive over to his place if I left now I'd get there soon enough. All I had to do was break a few speed limits and laws along the way.

"Just keep me updated please," I say wringing my wrist out of habit.

He nods, "Wait are those bracelets you're wearing?"

"Yeah," I respond casually dropping my hands so that he can't see them.

"But you find them annoying," he muses thoughtfully.

"No, I don't," I say way too quickly.

Javed squints at the camera, rotating in the chair he's in. Then leaning forward, he speaks in a voice that I think is supposed to be a really bad imitation of me. "How do girls wear those annoying ass charm bracelets. They always make so much noise."

"This one doesn't have charms," I counter.

He rolls his eyes, "Yeah okay same difference. You good Aarohi?"

"I'm good," I repeat for him.

Same dance, same tune even with him.

Tossing a pencil with one hand he catches it with the other, "Okay because you look dead. No offense."

"None taken," I deadpan.

"I'm being for real Aarohi, tell me what's happening that side?"

"Nothing much," I say.

God, I wish I could tell him. I've been aching to tell someone. Anyone that would listen to me. It would be better if I could. I can't help but think that it'll change everything. People will look at me as the borderline suicidal, depressed girl with rising anxiety.

Welcome to the shitshow.

I guess I could start with a small secret.

"I'm getting a colonoscopy and endoscopy next week," I confess.

The pencils he's been juggling clatter to the ground, his eyes bulge when he turns to me.

"What the hell? For what?" He demands.

Looking away I shrug, "I guess I've been having a few gut issues?"

"What the hell," he says again. "Damn dude I'm so sorry."

"You're good," I say quickly. "I wasn't even going to tell you cause you have enough to think about."

"No what the fuck. You're supposed to tell me. You better tell me. God Aarohi don't hide stuff. It'll be fine," he rushes to add towards the end.

"I guess," I say smiling weakly.

Maybe he has a bunch of girls chasing after him. He'll always be the boy shorter than me in seventh grade. The one who still refers to me with a nickname that he gave me back in middle school.

"Yes ma'am," he says as he swoops down to pick up the discarded pencils. 

"Listen I hate to do this but my mom's calling me. I have to get up at like five in the morning for the surgery."

"Shit that's early," I say even though most of the time I'm up by then. I'll have to remember to send him a text around five, so he'll see it.

He nods, "I'll text you though yeah?"

I smile, "Yeah, I'd like that."

Javed holds up a hand, saluting me lazily with a wide grin on his face, "See ya on the other side, Aunty."

"See ya on the other-"

He's gone, ending the call before I could finish my sentence. A blackened screen is all I'm met by. I stare at it forlornly. This is what he's been reduced to in simple seconds. I know he can't hear me. 

In a larger sense, no one could. 

So I say it more for myself than anyone else's.

"See ya on the other side nerd."