I'm waiting for Paumier in this dilapidated bar, a holdover from when there was still what you could consider the old city. He'll be on time. I've ordered myself rum and coffee. Santosh, my ever-needy friend, my ever-needful friend, made it some way. I never asked, and I ignored it when I noticed that the glasses in which he served the drinks weren't washed properly, or perhaps at all. I got what I paid for, and I paid him nothing despite the state of his finances, which was clear from the state of his bar. I'd been a good customer, even helped out when business was a little better, but now any effort to make his life better would be like pissing before a forest fire. He says nothing when I don't pay, and I have little money to work with myself.

Why? It was mathematics I'd chosen to study, and journalism I'd decided to pursue as a career. Paumier's an employee of so-and-so organization. I'm sorry I'm being vague. Palmer's the employee of an organization that investigates primarily cases regarding human trafficking. He contacted me a while ago. He knew I had a stake in the case at hand. He knew he could trust me. I didn't know how he knew. I didn't ask. An unspoken understanding formed between us the day we met. I was now his assistant

I force the window open against all the grime collecting in the rails and light a cigarette. Investigating trafficking. Medical scandals. All my life I've only been swept about, thrown into things.

Journalism. Neil had gotten me the job. His family was rich, large, and unhappy, but rich people are practical enough to allow for their families to function. His uncle was a member of the legislative assembly and was acquainted with someone at the offices of an English weekly that I trusted marginally more than any other. My supervisor, Bharti, was kind enough to allow me to write articles about whatever I pleased. I was in turn rigorous in my research and adopted the sort of neutrality I would want from a journalist myself. It was embarrassing, though—I'd vanished after graduating high school. I only reappeared from my hermitude only to ask him for help once I'd realized I didn't want to teach high school children trigonometry the rest of my life.

We spent our afternoons after school in the little garden behind the gym. It was the five of us: Radhika, Neil, Saeed, Priya, and me. We were in our final year of high school.

Saeed was my best friend. We'd known each other since we were in the fourth grade. I think it was the tenth grade when Radhika appeared, and the first time she uttered my name I was embarrassingly infatuated with her, the idea of her.

Saeed was the sort of fellow I could trust with everything but my love life. The moment I admitted to him that I had feelings for Radhika he was on my ass about it. He said I had to tell her before he did. I swore on his mother I would kill him if he did.

She was quick-witted and funny, she had a sharp tongue, and everyone knew what she was thinking even before she said anything. She had sharp eyebrows and a mole on her ear and a large burn on her right shin. I used to speak to her, to Radhika, about everything. When we first began speaking, I found myself waking up with a grin on my face. It was embarrassingly cliché, it was in my eyes the sort of high school romance I saw in the shows I watched and the books I read. Our tastes were the same, we laughed at the same things. And I loved when she laughed. We were quickly very comfortable in each other's presence.

Radhika was friends with Priya and Neil. Saeed and I hung out with Neil from time to time, and Priya read as much as I did, and Saeed had had a crush on her since before I knew him. Naturally we found that hanging out together was the obvious thing to do.

Neil carried himself with the certainty of someone whose parents have always been supportive of what he wanted from life. Priya was the sort of girl I could point at and say with all confidence that she would be vice-president some day.

And individually it was easy to speak to each of them, but when we congregated on the steps of the emergency staircase crawling down the wall of the gym building under the shade of the neem trees, I found myself on the edge of our little group. I felt then as though as if I were the only one who was worried about the things I was worried about. I attributed it to the neuroticism that I assumed maturity naturally brought with itself. Now I realize that it was perhaps I who was the most immature of them, that they were all shouldering their own burdens, perhaps all heavier than my own . . .

Even so I found that in a group I was always on guard, my attention darting from one to another, some attempt of analysis, some attempt to grasp at an indication that they thought they would be better off were I not present. Saeed never hesitated to sling a joke my way if he knew it would make them laugh. I'd laugh along uncomfortably, most acutely aware of the sound of Radhika's laughter as well. And it was nothing, I realize now, but then I was a lot more sensitive than I believed.

Despite this underlying gloom, I was perhaps the happiest when I was among them, laughing, speaking, fighting. It was perfect. It felt good to be known, seen.

"What do you think you're going to do after graduating?" Priya asked one day.

"Architecture," I said promptly, my eyes fixed on the cold can of Sprite in my hand.

"That was quick."

"What are you going to do?" I looked up at her.

"Something helpful."

"Typical," Neil snorted.

"I don't have daddy's business to take over, unlike you," she shot back. We laughed. "What about you, Radha?"

She scrunched her nose. "Psychology, I'm thinking criminal psychology."

"See?" Priya looked at Neil. "What about you, Saeed?"

"Dunno," he mumbled, his mouth full of bread.

"I'm not taking over the business," Neil said quietly.

"What, then?" Priya said. It was a little obnoxious the way she said it, I have to admit.

"We'll see."

The conversation ended right there. I was a little embarrassed at how quickly I'd answered. I wanted to talk more about it, but I was too awkward to bring it up again. We dispersed soon after.

Saeed "let it slip" during lunch one day in front of Priya that I liked Radhika. I flared up with anger and shame, but before I could say anything, Priya gasped and smiled and looked at me. "Amar," she said. "I give you my blessing. You'd be so cute together!"

I was over the moon. It was a stupid thing to be happy about.

A week later we found ourselves back in our garden. We'd formed a circle, we were volleying a ball around, receiving and tossing. Neil was especially hard on us, spiking the ball whenever it flew anywhere within his reach, and our light-hearted volleying soon half-turned into a game of monkey in the middle, where Neil would slam it back down at whoever was unfortunate enough to pass the ball within range of his long arms. Soon thereafter Neil began exclusively targeting me, much to everyone's amusement but my own. It was tolerable until the ball barrelled into my face, knocking my glasses off. I ran at him and playfully punched him in the gut. He swung wildly and struck me in the face. The others pulled us apart as I cursed at him.

"Monkey in the middle," I hissed. "That what your parents call you when you're going back and forth between their houses?"

No one spoke. I left quietly, picking my glasses up as I did.

I stopped spending time with Neil, and with any of the others. A month later, as I was shooting a basketball around after school, I saw from the window of the gym the four of them laughing among themselves.

After graduating, Neil registered for a design course at a private university up North where his aunt was head of admissions. Saeed got accepted into a local college, where he was studying engineering. Radhika had decided to attend a surprisingly nice university, I'd heard, where she was indeed studying psychology. Priya headed to the U.S., unsurprisingly.

I'd cut all contact with them and any other classmates a year after we graduated. Saeed and Priya each texted me once after that. Saeed to ask if I'd be interested in coming to a class reunion at some restaurant. Priya to ask me to complete some survey, which I did. I never heard from the other two.

While on break, in the third year of my mathematics degree, I walked into a café, saw Neil and Radhika sitting across from one another, and promptly walked back out.

I pass by my high school every morning while heading to work. Around when I graduated college, the garden behind the gym was razed down to make way for a group of tennis courts. The school has a pretty nice tennis team now.

How stupid.

"Amar."

"Paumier."

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Pub: 26 Apr 2025 22:38 UTC

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