Page 18 of Carnal Games

The greenest of green flags.

Honestly, I’m not being delusional. Most women have a sixth sense at picking up red flags. A gut feeling. I’ve felt neither around Nathan.

I contemplate my decision for a minute before texting back and choosing the second option. Just as a precaution.

ME: I can meet you at the grocery store. If it’s okay, I’d like for us to take a cab.

NATHAN: I won’t criticize you for being smart, Iris. I’ll text you when I leave my place.

ME: Thank you. Also, how fancy should I dress?

NATHAN: Whatever you feel comfortable wearing to a party.

ME: At least tell me traditional or western?

NATHAN: The latter.

ME: All right. I’ll see you tonight, Nathan.

NATHAN: Can’t wait, crazy Iris.

Throwing my phone to the side, I skip to the bathroom to go about my morning. God! I have so much to do today. Washing my wavy brown hair, shaving my legs and underarms andpicking out a dress. Most importantly, convincing Mom to let me go out and extend my curfew. While my parents are traditional and religious, they are also chill and the coolest.

Especially my mom, who is also like my best friend.

Quickly finishing all the tasks, I change into my favorite pair of leggings and an oversized T-shirt. A minute later, I reach downstairs and enter the kitchen, where I find my mom humming a tune. I’m an exact replica of my mom, with her wavy brown and voluptuous hair, short height, and blue eyes.

Even our nature is similar: sunny and sweet. Whereas my dad is quiet and reserved.

She shuffles around the small space, multitasking as she cooks breakfast forDaduand I. My dad has already left for work since this week he’s doing the early morning shift.

Still singing to herself, she doesn’t notice me as she pours a piping hot cup of tea.

I would usually take advantage and sneak up on her, but I don’t want her to accidentally pour the tea on herself and burn her skin. So, I softly greet, “Good morning, Momma.”

“Morning,bacha,” she replies lovingly, turning sideways. “Want me to pour you a cup?”

“Yes, please.”

“I bought your favorite cake rusk.” She points to her right. “They’re in the cupboard.”

“Oh my god! Thank you!” I rush and open the cabinet, pulling out the untouched bag of cake rusks. I love eating them with tea. I’m the kind of person who needs some kind of sweet snack to have while drinking a beverage.

“Once you’re finished, take yourdadu’sbreakfast to him. I’ll set aside his plate.”

“Okay.” Settling on the four-seater dining table in the corner, I open the bag and transfer the sweet rusks into an empty jar. Mom brings both our teacups and sits across fromme. Passing mine, we both dig in. As I munch on my snack and sip my beverage, I contemplate on how to bring up the party and ask for permission.

My parents know all of my closest friends and that I mostly hang out with Yukta. Plus, I’ve never brought around any boys, friends or otherwise. This is because I’m low-key scared of Dad, who is a classic Indian father. Protective and overbearing.

Hence, mentioning Nathan will earn me a verbal interrogation with every question under the sun, starting from how we met to his complete family history.

Telling them I ran into him at our local grocery store doesn’t exactly scream trustworthy.

I’m left with a single option, which is using Yukta as an excuse and saying I’m going out with her. It’s an automatic yes when it comes to my best friend, even though I feel bad for lying to Mom. However, even she won’t allow me to attend a party with a guy I met only two days ago.

The alternate is not going and that’ll leave me depressed.

I’m obviously not going to hide Nathan forever and will eventually introduce him, if our friendship grows tight-knit. For tonight, though, a white lie it is.