ACT 2, SCENE 8

AARAV WANTED TO MURDER HIS FRIENDS WHEN THEY TOSSED AROUND HIS PRIZED CALCULUS TEXTBOOK.

Gods, he needed that for class. Not to mention the school would find him if it wound up damaged. That being said, if someone ended up dead, he would claim no responsibility. 

"Stop." He dropped his bag on the bench and spun the combination to his locker. 

"Who the hell uses textbooks anymore?" Damien caught the textbook, but his hands fumbled and it tumbled to the ground. 

Cringing, Aarav promptly snatched it back. Did anyone realize how many germs populated the locker room floors? "Me, I use textbooks." 

"You're also close to turning into one. You don't count." Liam elbowed his side and shoulder-checked him on the way to his own locker. Aarav changed shoes and rested one foot on the bench while he tightened the white laces. The rest of the cross country team filed in, sounds of chatter and clanging locker doors filling the air.

"How's that stint with the new girl going?" Damien tugged off his t-shirt and hung it on the hooks. 

"She's so gullible. Fell for my act just like that." Liam snapped his fingers.

Jackie.

"Why are you leading her on like that?" Aarav snapped.

Liam blinked, startled, then a nervous laugh escaped his lips. "I'm not!" 

"Then what stint is Damien talking about?" 

Damien looked between the two of them, arms hanging loosely at his sides. Aarav shot him a dark glare and he backed off. He whirled around to face Liam, struggling to contain his anger. "You can't take responsibility for what you do wrong."

The ache in Aarav's chest worsened. It was like a cut that kept reopening every time it came close to healing. Sharp and sudden, the memory struck him like a bolt of lightning. He remembered so vividly in bleeding color the exchange in the dining hall between Liam and Damien at the beginning of the year, right before he'd retreated to the library. 

"Remember, if you lose, you streak across the stage in front of the entire school."

"Just making a bet with Liam." 

"One I will obviously win."

Every little detail he'd overlooked clicked into place like puzzle pieces. How Liam suddenly became more attentive to her during rehearsals, when he suddenly asked her out…

"Jackie was the bet, wasn't she? The one you made at lunch once?" Aarav's face twisted into disgust. "You gambled on her."

His friend's face was unreadable. "I didn't mean it," he said hoarsely. "I actually do like her." 

"If you did, you wouldn't have made the bet in the first place." He gritted his teeth, his hands trembling. 

"No!" Liam ran a hand through his hand in frustration. "I mean, yes, I did agree to it, but I ended up actually liking her!"

"You're so wrapped up in this perfect world of yours, thinking everyone worships the ground you walk on, breaking hearts left and right for your own amusement."

Aarav slammed a hand against the locker door, making the entire structure rattle. The other guys fell silent and watched the confrontation. He was distinctly aware of the stares of his teammates burning into him but didn't back down.

"Was Jackie just another game to you?" 

Liam avoided his gaze and stepped back. "I cared about her."

He grabbed the blond by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. "You cared? If you cared, you wouldn't—forget it! You're a reckless fool with no regard for anyone but yourself."

Aarav forced down the bile that rose to his throat. Jackie with her bright smiles and gleaming eyes, always bubbling with excitement. Someone so starry-eyed with such a dreamy view of the world. She believed the best in everyone—especially Liam—and here he was about to break her heart. 

"That's not true," Liam insisted.

"All you care about is this stupid voice inside your head telling you how great you are. You're so oblivious to the damage you've done."

"Aarav, shut up! It was an accident!" 

"This isn't just an accident!" 

"Listen." Liam shook off his grip. "You can't tell her, okay?" 

The months spent biting his tongue and swallowing his anger were all in vain. Instead, that suppressed fury simmered inside Aarav, growing and growing until he lost all control. Before he knew it, his fist was colliding with Liam's face. There was a sharp crack and the air was silent. He watched in horror while blood gushed from the blond's nose. 

"I didn't mean—"

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and dragged him back. Aarav craned his head, paling when he locked eyes with the coach. 

"To the office." 

He swallowed hard. The stares of the team burned into the back of his head. What did everyone think? Team captain Aarav punching another member in the face. Another screw-up to add to his unfortunately growing list. With clenched teeth, he swung his bag over his shoulder and walked out. 

Aarav would hold his head high and he would not slouch despite the tightening dread in his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck and waited outside the office door. Never in his life did he once envision himself standing outside the headmaster's office in trouble. For the entirety of his school career, Aarav had followed every single rule. Had done every assignment, fulfilled every expectation without complaint.

Today was the end of all precedents. The door opened with a click and the headmaster was seated in the towering armchair with a pressed suit and silk tie. The entirety of the room complemented the owner: cold, austere, and gray. All sharp angles and stern lines. Comfort wasn't in Headmaster Steiner's repertoire. 

Aarav found a seat across from him and stared dead ahead. His posture straightened. The man was the human equivalent of a shark, a fear-detecting creature. Aarav smoothed his face into an emotionless mask. Equanimity. He would be the epitome of equanimity. This was no different from dealing with acerbic aunties. 

"This is for your parents." The headmaster slid over a suspension slip. We regret to inform you…

It required every ounce of self-control to stop Aarav from tearing up the paper. We regret to inform you. What a ludicrous phrase that accompanied every piece of bad news life hurled his way.

"Yes sir." Aarav's words sounded clipped, mechanical.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

He shook his head. He never cheated on exams, writing notes down on the back of calculators or stealing answer keys the way other classmates would. He never mouthed off to teachers or disrupted class. Aarav lacked the foresight to prepare a speech for the headmaster, whose eyes darkened in disappointment.

A week's suspension. How much would this first black mark on his record harm his future college chances? Guilt wormed its way into his brain, and the sharp memory of Liam standing with blood running down his face stung his eyes. Gods, he'd punched his best friend since kindergarten. What would his parents say? What would the Sinclairs do? 

But Liam had it coming. One hit to the nose could never compete to the pain he was about to unleash on Jackie. Aarav stared at his hands, the skin already bruising blue and purple, and rubbed his knuckles. He couldn't fathom what drove him to react with violence. Despite his parents' mantra of "If someone hits you, hit them back" he'd never attacked anyone. And now, in the last year of high school, he had done so unprovoked. 

. . .

"Do you know how much trouble we had to go through to keep this off your record?" Mrs. Deshmukh screeched at her son. "It took a new library wing to settle this with the headmaster. And the Sinclairs? Now they're a whole other story."

Something about the entire situation unsettled him. The ugly feeling coiled in his stomach like a monstrous snake had not dissipated. Aarav didn't know what to feel. Elation that the incident wouldn't affect college applications? Guilt at having hurt Liam? He swallowed hard and adjusted his glasses. 

Aarav sank into the living room couch, staring dead ahead with empty eyes while his mother paced back and forth. "I'm sorry, Amma."

"You should be! Just wait until your father hears about this. Don't you understand how much we've suffered and sacrificed throughout the years to get this life? Can you imagine what it was like when we first moved here? I had to claw my way into this world, to make it mine, to finally belong."

Her hand slammed down the table, making Aarav jump. "Then I hear that my very own son has punched the heir to the Sinclair fortune in the face!"

"It was for a good reason. If you knew what Liam—"

"Believe me, I know exactly what that boy's like. But do you even know the damage you've done? We'll be a disgrace!"

Losing face, losing face, losing face. 

So that was this was all about. Not that he'd done anything wrong. But because it damaged the family's reputation. Nothing else mattered. All his parents cared about was appearing picture-perfect in their social circles. 

Aarav shook in anger, clenching and unclenching his fists while his legs trembled. He stood to face his mother. "So that's what this is about, Amma." He straightened his shoulders and met her eyes. His voice came out more calm and even than he expected. "You care about protecting your reputation."

He laughed wryly and shook his head while Mrs. Deshmukh stared with widened eyes. 

"I did everything you said for my entire life, followed every single rule, molded myself to your version of perfection." Aarav ran a hand through his hair and his fingers curled inward, tugging at the strands. "Most parents would be concerned with why their model son suddenly got into a confrontation at school. But you? You only care about your social standing."

Amma sank into a chair and placed a hand to her forehead. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling. "What do you want, a therapist?" Her face gleamed as though she suddenly held all the answers. A fake smile spread across her lips. "Your father and I shall now put you in therapy. Is that what this is?"

"Seriously?" He stared at her, open-mouthed, eyes widened. "You're sending me to a shrink?" 

Gods, his mother was becoming desperate. She consistently claimed therapy was for white people. According to his immigrant parents, mental health issues didn't exist. But this wasn't that serious. Aarav had never suffered depression, anxiety, or any other disorders. He didn't want to be lead into a clinical white room, emotions stripped bare for all to see, while a doctor analyzed his life. 

"Your behavior is spinning out of control!"

"I am not the problem here." 

Alright, so maybe his parents' mental health stigma had rubbed off on him. But as far as issues with the typical American teenager went, one incident wasn't that serious. He'd apologize to Liam, keep his head down, and hopefully gain acceptance into an Ivy League come March.

"One minute you're a well-behaved student and the next you're on the verge of suspension for picking a fight. How are you supposed to get into Stanford now?"

"This isn't about college applications! I just got mad once. Everything's fine." 

"I just don't understand." Mrs. Deshmukh massaged her temples and sank into the couch. "Where did I go wrong? I gave you everything." 

Everything. Aarav almost snorted. In his family, love was conditional. Dependent on whether his test scores were high enough or the prestige of extracurricular achievements. 

"Haven't you considered that maybe teenagers want you to listen for once? Instead you're too wrapped up in protecting the family legacy. You just throw money at the problem thinking it'll go away."

"Don't talk back to me, Aarav," his mother snapped but her retort lacked its usual fire. She looked drained and exhausted, the will to fight having seeped out of her. 

Aarav's arms dropped in defeat and he started retreating to his room. The anger replaced itself with emptiness and all he felt now was exhaustion. He stopped for a moment, a hand resting on the rail.

"Liam deserved it and I won't apologize."

Letting the words hang in the air, he dragged his feet upstairs.

. . .

It was nearly 5:00 pm when his phone dinged with a text notification.

Rumors are spreading like crazy! Everyone's saying you beat up Liam???

Also your mom paid for a new west wing of the library. Now that's definitely exaggerated.

I only punched Liam in the face. He's fine. 

The second is completely true. 

WHAT???

We should talk in person. Can I come over?

Of course.

Aarav poked his head out of the bedroom and surveyed the house. It was eerily quiet except for the Deshmukhs' housekeeper cooking dinner. He grabbed his car keys and slipped out the door. Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at Jackie's home. She was sitting on the front steps, elbows resting on her knees. She lurched to her feet when she recognized his car and jogged over. Aarav stepped out to greet her.

"Okay, now spill. Everything."

"This afternoon, in the locker room… I just couldn't stand it. With all this pent-up frustration that kept building and building, I lost it."

"So you hit him," she finished. She stated it so casually, so matter-of-factly. Aarav didn't know how to feel about that. 

"I hit him," he repeated. His grip tightened on the steering wheel, and he kept his eyes on the road. The car was parked but his hands itched for a distraction.

"What caused it?"

"He said some stuff about you and..." His voice trailed off. 

"Me? What about me?"

He turned to look at her for a second. Eyebrows furrowed, she was biting her lip, and had her legs drawn to her chest. He thought about how certain animals would curl up into a ball when threatened. It was like Jackie was bracing herself for the impact.

"Your relationship with him is only because of a bet."

The instant the words spiraled out his mouth, he wanted to take them back. There it was, that surge of guilt. Like a little worm eating him whole from the inside. What if guilt created ghosts, tethering them to the living and barring them from the afterlife? Guilt was an unpredictable, incurable thing. Someone could rot behind bars for years and still feel guilty.

Aarav shifted his gaze to the street. His mind was a tangle of emotions, and he could barely keep his thoughts straight. How many years would it take for the guilt to go away? Tears pricked his eyes but he blinked them away. Jackie didn't speak and an uneasy silence settled between them.

She finally spoke, "I don't believe you." 

"I'm not lying." His voice was strong, unwavering. Aarav blinked away his tears and smoothed his face into a mask of indifference. 

"Maybe you misheard."

"I know what I heard."

"No." Jackie shook her head vehemently.

"No," she repeated. "It's some kind of mistake. I'm pretty sure Liam has a good explanation. Your judgment was skewed."

"I'm thinking perfectly straight!"

He stopped the car and tore off his glasses in frustration. The lenses shook in his grip, and Aarav had to remind himself not to accidentally break the pair. It hurt more than he cared to admit, that Jackie would believe Liam over him. Stupid. He should've known. If his own mother wasn't on his side, then why would she have been? 

Goddamn Jackie and goddamn Liam. In that moment, he almost hated her for clinging to the idea of a fairytale. Aarav should've kept his mouth shut, should've never confronted Liam. If she wanted to continue the relationship of lies, he would allow her. As much as the guilt ate away at his insides, he knew he told her the truth.

"You're so naive. You've created this picture-perfect version of Liam in your head, and you'll make up just about any excuse to stop it from shattering."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Aarav regretted it. He regretted a lot of things. Today was full of him lashing out and unable to take back his actions. The male wanted to bang his head against the steering wheel until he blacked out. Maybe he'd wake up to find it was all just a bad dream. 

To make things even worse, it was a beautiful day outside. Sunlight glistened off the snow that blanketed the world and transformed it into a winter wonderland. A trio of kids were playing in the front yard with their bouncing fluffy dog. It was as though the world were laughing at him. Look at us thriving while your life goes down in flames.

"There's more to it than that, something that you're not telling me. Whatever it is, it's clouding your vision. Like I said, you're wrong about Liam."

"You have to believe me." 

"You've got this grudge against him and I don't get it, but I hope someday you'll resolve it."

Jackie's words barely registered in his mind. He heard a click while she exited the car. 

"See you later, Aarav."