Free Lovetorn by Kavita Daswani Page A

around to make sure Sangita wasn’t within earshot. “But I am finding it hard to fit in. The other kids at school are not so nice to me; and, unlike my sister, I haven’t made any friends there yet.”
    It was a relief to say it aloud. With my father and Sangita, I always had to pretend. Vikram had some idea of how unhappy I was, but not the full extent of it. Here was a girl I had only known for an hour, but I felt like telling her everything.
    Renuka put her plate down on the blanket and wiped some crumbs off her fingers. The sun had dipped down behind a mountain, cooling the air. I wanted to go to the car and get a jacket but didn’t want to tear myself away from the conversation.
    “I’ve never been to India,” Renuka said. I tried not to show my shock. I couldn’t fathom the possibility of an Indian person who had never been to India.
    “My dad came here as a kid; he married my mom here; I was born in this country. We have some relatives in Mumbai, but nobody I really know. All my grandparents are here. I’ve never had a reason to visit India, which is stupid, I know, because I shouldn’t need a reason.
    “So because I’ve never been there, and I don’t know what your life was like, I can’t really give a lot of advice. High school can be really fun. But you know nothing’s gonna just fall into your lap, right? If you want to be happy here, you need to kinda make it happen. If you want friends, you need to go make them. You gotta make an effort. Seriously.”
    Those words lingered in my head for the rest of the afternoon, as we three girls threw a ball to one another, swung on the swings like preschoolers, and chatted about the latest movies and our favorite TV shows over steaming hot tea from a thermos. It was the single happiest day I’d had since arriving in America.
    Later as we rode home, my father asked Sangita and me if we had enjoyed meeting our new friends.
    I nodded as I gazed out of the front passenger side window.
    “Renuka is really, really nice,” I said.
    “Yes, she seems to be a very good girl,” my father agreed, turning on his indicator light to merge into another lane. “Very straightforward, honest, and polite. I talked to her while we were having chai after lunch. And I said to her, ‘You are how my Shalini would be if she was brought up in America.’ Was I wrong to say that, beta ?”
    “No, Papa,” I said quietly. “I think you’re quite right.”
    Renuka called me the next morning, uttering the three words that I had longed to hear from someone ever since I had gotten here.
    “Wanna hang out?” she asked, smacking noisily on a piece of gum.
    My heart actually jumped in my chest. In a flash I had visions of Renuka and me being like the other girls I had seen in school, the ones who went home with their friends after class, texted each other constantly, and talked excitedly about going to the movies or bowling or shopping. The fun of a girlhood friendship was something I had missed. I wanted to be like Sangita, who had lately taken to going off after school with Amy in her mother’s SUV. Amy had a heated pool in her backyard, and Sangita loved spending time there. She often stayed over for dinner. Many times, she asked me to go along with her. But being asked by my kid sister to join in with her and her friends because I didn’t have any friends of my own made me almost want to cry.
    Now, here was a girl calling just for me.
    “Yes, I’m free today,” I said happily. “What shall we do?”
    After Renuka and I made our plans, I rushed upstairs to get dressed. I stopped in at the prayer room. I hadn’t been in there in a few days, which was unusual for me. I had begun to lose faith. My mother was miserable; I had been miserable. But now, on this beautiful Sunday, I began to feel just a little more hopeful. I bowed my head in thanks. Then I gently knocked on the door to my parents’ bedroom. My mother was in a chair, looking out the window. She was still in her