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. 

10:24 am.

Aarav smoothed his expression into a placid one. Equanimity. He would be the epitome of equanimity. He'd swallow multiple cups of coffee that morning to make it through the celebration, but already the exhaustion was creeping in. Playing Mary Sunshine wasn't his style, but he couldn't afford to lose face for his parents. 

Aadhira chirped, "I think Amma is looking for us!" She began to skip off, and he followed her after bidding a hasty goodbye. It turned out that she hadn't been lying as she took hold of his hand and pulled him inside.

10:27 am. 

The large idol of Lord Ganesha was installed on an elaborate raised platform in the puja room. It was clad in gold ornaments with bright clothing and accessories, further decorated with additional beaded necklaces and golden bangles. Glimmering dupattas and sarees were hung to liven up the walls with a green and yellow theme, while candles were artfully arranged around the idol. Every inch of the place was spotless, having been meticulously cleaned in preparation for the ten-day festival celebrating the birth of the elephant-headed god of prosperity and wisdom. 

The idol was no unfamiliar sight—his own home had a statue of the sitting Ganesha. If he were to be honest, this wasn't his ideal way of spending the weekend. He understood his parents' desire to hold onto cultural traditions; however, he was disconnected from his heritage. Growing up in a predominantly white community infused with Western ideology, Aarav felt that Indian celebrations belonged more to his Telugu parents than they did to him.

"It's too loud," complained Aadhira. "It hurts Flappy's ears."

Aarav raised a skeptical eyebrow at the worn stuffed elephant. He only tightened his grip on the girl while he wove his way through the thick crowd to his mother's side. Though in his sister's defense, elephants did have excellent hearing.  

"Amma, why did you tell the aunties where I'm applying?" he hissed. 

"What else was I supposed to do when they were talking about colleges?" 

"You know they'll talk if I get rejected."

"You are not getting rejected." The tone of her voice left no room for argument. Even Aarav dared not argue. 

"When can we get food?" cut in Aadhira. 

"Later. Just wait until after puja ends." He absently ruffled her hair. 

"Both of you pay attention," their mother commanded. 

Aarav snapped to attention and knelt in prayer. Or at least pretended to. While his parents were devout Hindus, he leaned toward Atheism. Their customs weren't his. A stranger in a familiar land.

He spent the rest of the celebration convincing Amma to let him leave early. He wasn't looking forward to spending the rest of the day with Madison Aster, but at least Iris would be around to temper her attitude. Not to mention that he needed to get the project finished soon. His mother caved quicker than expected. It seemed she held her regard for education above all else. 

. . .

Aarav was in enemy territory.

If he had any choice, the Aster mansion was the last place he would've chosen to work on the project. But Madison, of course, had insisted—anything to keep their war on her domain. At that point, he'd been too tired to contradict her. It wasn't worth his energy to argue over something so petty.

However, it was a completely different matter when she immediately shot down every single one of his ideas. Never mind the fact that they were so much more worthwhile than hers. Thirty minutes in and the group still hadn't determined a plan for their project. Admittedly, Iris was the one who had it worst. The girl sat silently a couple feet away whenever he and Madison wound up locked in a heated debate. 

Iris straightened her legs and delicately crossed one over the other. "Both of you need to stop. All this energy is bad for you skin," she commented while checking her complexion the phone camera. 

"Bad skin? That's the least of our worries," Madison hissed. 

"Don't snap at her," Aarav ordered. His hands curled into the carpet, fingers latching onto the long white fibers. 

"Like you're to talk! You're so damn irritable all the time—"

The front door opened and a woman stepped inside. She was petite and slender with graying black hair and wrinkles at the end of her dark brown eyes. Her arms were filled with bulging grocery bags. A brewing storm of orderly energy, she briefly greeted the trio before rushing off to the kitchen. After her bounced in a tiny girl with similar features and a red ribbon laced through her hair. 

"Oh. Jackie's back," Madison stated and folded her arms. 

Jackie's smile faltered for a second until she saw Aarav and Iris, her expression morphing into surprise. "What are you two doing here?" 

"Group project." He gestured to the empty poster and array of papers filled with formulas. 

Madison scowled while Iris offered a friendly smile and waved. "I'm Iris. I don't think we've met before." 

The redhead rolled her eyes. "She's the crazy stepsister I've told you all about. You know, the one who thinks the house is haunted." 

Jackie's sunny smile widened. "My mom and I were planning on cooking dinner, but we miscalculated and bought too much food."

When there was a moment of silence, she continued despite her voice being unsteady. "We're having Vietnamese food so it'll be great. You should all join." 

Madison's mouth fell open. "Absolutely not—"

"That'd be great," cut in Aarav. 

"I'd love to," Iris seconded. "I love Vietnamese food." 

The redhead seethed, "Okay, you cannot just invite random people to my house." 

"You're all welcome to dinner," proclaimed Jackie's mother with a serene smile. 

Madision's scowl only deepened and she folded her arms. Aarav raised his eyebrows. Did Jackie have some ulterior motives for inviting them over? He wouldn't have expected her to purposefully annoy Madison, but he couldn't blame her.

. . .

Honestly, he never expected to have a meal in the Asters' home—and willingly no less. Normally, the only time he came over was when forced to. While the company of his ultimate academic rival wasn't very favorable, it was satisfying to see Madison stew silently in her seat while poking at her food. 

The dish somewhat resembled a cross between an omelet and a crepe, the savory fried yellow pancake folded over shrimp and vegetables in a semi-circle shape. He sliced off a tiny piece and dipped it into the orange sauce, swirling it around with the bits of red pepper and carrot. Out of the corner of his eye, Aarav watched Jackie dump the entirety of said sauce over her dish. 

"What is this?" He took a bite, his twitching fingers fumbling to keep ahold of the fork. The crispy outer layer gave way to a sizzling savory filling, with a hint of sweetness due to the sauce.

"Bánh xèo." Jackie smiled. "My mom and I made it while you guys were working on your project."

He blinked in surprise. Normally his parents had their professional chef prepare dinner or they ordered from a restaurant. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his prim and proper mother in a kitchen with an apron. He couldn't remember the last time he cooked something unless heating up leftover rasam in the microwave counted. 

"It's delicious," commented Iris, echoing Aarav's thoughts. Ms. Nguyễn's smile widened and the skin around her eyes crinkled. Her features mirrored Jackie's: round oval face, golden beige skin, large brown eyes. 

He poured a bit of the sauce over the edge of his food and tasted it. Very salty and not at all spicy despite the pieces of pepper. How did Jackie manage to dump the entire cup of it over her plate? Bánh xèo was savory enough, he decided. No need for extra salt.

"It's nước mắm," Jackie whispered as though reading his mind. "I eat it with everything."

She paused. "Okay, not everything. I wouldn't go dumping it in hot chocolate." 

How she managed to stand that it was so salty, Aarav had no clue. He swallowed a gulp of water and looked around the table. The entire family was seated in the dining room and enjoying themselves—even Madison who appeared as pleasantly surprised as he was. It seemed it wasn't every day they had Vietnamese food. Not very shocking since the only dish Aarav was familiar with was phở. 

"Jackie mentioned you being very involved with the play," commented Mr. Aster. 

"I'm the student director, sir."

"Any other extracurriculars?" 

What was this, a furtive attempt to measure up his daughter's academic rival? He was no stranger to the education-obsessed couples his parents were friends with that often compared their children in terms of grades and clubs. Mr. Aster would be no different to handle. "NHS, track, cross country, debate, drama." 

"A formidable list. Where are you applying?" 

Stanford, but Aarav wasn't about to let that slip. He didn't need the Asters knowing as well. Madison kept glancing at him from the corner of his eye. Of course his rival wanted to know as well.

"Still deciding. There's plenty of good schools," he said swiftly and took another bite of the bánh xèo. 

"Applying early is tough," Iris added cheerily. "That involves way too much commitment. You really gotta be deadset on a university for that." 

"Oh, enough of the college application talk," said Jackie's mother.

Aarav was plenty content to let it rest, and the conversation thankfully shifted to less stressful topics. When dinner ended, Iris had to leave early and Madison disappeared to her room. Jackie volunteered to clear the table, so he stayed behind to help. Her parents had left to watch a movie and their carefree chatter could be heard drifting through the empty house. 

"You don't have to help, you know. I've got everything covered." The girl gathered the plates into her arms, and her elbow hit a crystal glass and knocked it over. 

Aarav caught it seconds before it hit the floor, nimbly saving them both from injury. "Clearly I do." He carefully collected the remaining glasses before asking, "Are you normally this clumsy?"

"No, I'm very coordinated. Don't go mistaking me for a klutz." She nearly let a plate slip from her fingers which made him raise an eyebrow. 

"Okay, yes." Jackie laughed and set the dishes into the sink. "My mom once joked about enrolling me in sports so I'll be more coordinated." 

"Not an athlete?" 

"Nope, I prefer to avoid physically strenuous activity. What about you?" 

"I do track and cross country." 

"I almost expected you to say football."

Aarav shook his head. His parents forbade it because of the risk of concussions. He offered her a half-smile. "Too cliché. Not my style." 

"Of course." Jackie grinned at him in return. She hopped onto the counter, palms resting on the edge. Her hair was pulled back with the usual red ribbon, and a couple of strands had come loose. 

He glanced at her sideways while he leaned against the wall. "About dinner, does your family normally eat together?" 

"Sometimes Madison's out with friends but pretty much. Don't all families do that?" 

"I guess." Aarav removed his glasses and wiped the lenses. His parents were too busy to be around for long, always in a rush to attend a business meeting. Their interactions mainly consisted of him being lectured over grades. Most days he picked up his little sister from schools and the two arrived home to an empty household. 

"Do you cook Vietnamese food often?" he asked.

Jackie shrugged. "Sometimes. My parents used to make a big deal out of understanding culture and whatnot. I used to always help them in the kitchen until they divorced when I was eight." 

He smiled wryly. His family placed the same emphasis on their culture. Not that they ever forced him to cook. "What's it like having divorced parents?"

"It's weird. Sometimes I'm so used to him being gone that I forget he even existed at all." Jackie took a deep breath and stared at her hands. "Other times, I miss him so bad it hurts. Then I can't help wondering how he's doing with his new family. And..."

Aarav shifted closer, his gaze steadying itself on her features. "And what?" 

"It feels like he's replaced me." Her eyes met his for a moment before the girl looked away. 

"You know, he would've liked you," Jackie continued in a lighter tone with any trace of sadness having been expelled. 

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow and slipped his glasses back on.

"Smart, responsible type. You know how Asian parents are always comparing you to some overachieving kid?" 

Aarav's mouth twitched upwards and a chuckle escaped. "Yeah, there's always some genius they wish you were more like." 

"Well, you'd be the one he'd compare me to. The model student." 

Smart, responsible type. Model student. 

What five words best describe you? 

Jackie had given him exactly five words. But not the right ones, not quite. Aarav wasn't sure how much weight admissions officers gave to the question, but such a description was boring. Being good at academics was a given for most applicants. 

God, why was he still thinking about it at a time like now? College application stress had thoroughly wormed its way into his life, permeating his daily thoughts. Didn't help that the school counselors were like essay vultures circling overhead. Even now his mind begged at him to hurry home and finish writing. 

"It's getting kinda late. Do you have a curfew?" Jackie questioned after all the plates had been cleared. 

"I should be heading home," Aarav agreed. He pulled on his coat while she followed him out to the foyer. He stepped outside and slid on his shoes—which were neatly lined near the door. 

He fished his car keys out of his pocket and paused for a second. Jackie tilted her head expectantly and he cleared his throat. "For what it's worth, I don't think your dad replaced you." 

She fidgeted and tugged at the ends of her red hair ribbon. "...Thanks." 

He nodded curtly and turned to head to his car. "See you at rehearsal tomorrow."