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Two

23rd May, Wednesday

Um, hey E,

Sorry I haven’t been writing since the night before my birthday. I didn’t know what to write. Mainly because my birthday was a disaster. I wasn’t ready to pick up the fountain pen my mom had gifted me when I was four. I didn’twantto write.

Sigh. It’s strange.

Everyone was busy with something, even Katherine. But she sent me the book I was dying to read since the last two months. Even you had to go on a last-minute date with Ariana. Yes, you asked me to ditch your date, but I was the one who smiled it off.

Isn’t smiling one of my talents? Works like a charm. I hate myself for lying to you without using words.

Mom was busy with her drawings, Dad was in the hospital, and Karan with his internship. I didn’t have dinner that day, even though it was my favorite panner sabzi.

I cried in the shower because I was weak. It hurt me to stay on the floor, hugging my knees and hiding my face. I don’t remember why I was crying. Hating myself or hating all of you? It was sad, painful and pitiful. To look at your reflection and all you see are tear-stained cheeks, a flushed nose and red eyes.

Then you came sneaking through the window. You gave me my gift. It was a scrapbook. You were secretly working on it for months and you had glued pictures of us since our birth. I can’t imagine you out of all people making a scrapbook for my birthday. The thought itself makes me laugh.

There were so many pictures of us! Playing together with soft toys, your moms showering us, playing with paint, four-year-old Ethan kissing my knee when I bruised it, our first fight for the last slice of pizza, first bicycle ride, our birthdays, eight-year-old me fighting with Nancy Jones over you (I still hate her. How dare she call you her boyfriend!), getting braces, our Radha-Krishna pictures, your swim practice, my first trophy for winning that essay competition. I can still remember that you were standing on your chair in the first row and cheering me on, ‘That’s my best friend, Kiara! Go, Kia!’

Then we looked grown up in the next pictures, painting together in my mom’s studio, the school summer dance, Halloween, Christmas, driving your car; it hadeverything.

The last picture was of us standing together. We were on the beach and you were kissing my hair, your arm around my shoulder while I was laughing at something with my eyes closed. It wasbeautiful.

I was in tears and jumped on you, wrapping my arms and legs around you. I gave you the tightest hug. You fell on my bed and started laughing. When I stopped crying, you cuddled with me and we watched ‘The Princess Bride’ mouthing the dialogue.

Just like that, I wasn’t sad anymore. You don’t know how much I appreciate your existence, Ethan Kane.

Love,

Kiara