Page 67 of Protect my Heart

“Lies!” Her eyes widen.

“You moaned.” I mention it as a matter of fact, because she did, and I love that sound. It still rings in the back of my mind.

Her jaw drops. “Aarav!”

I burst out laughing; she does too. We’re both just standing there, covered in color, her slightly high, me completely sober, and everything feels strangely… okay.

“Let’s get you some water,” I say, looping an arm around her so she doesn’t topple over.

“But I want another bhaang—”

“Yeah, no.” I look at her sternly; she pouts but walks with me, clinging to my shirt like a koala.

I guide her to a quieter corner away from the noise and sit her down on one of the swing chairs. She kicks her feet lazily, then looks up at me with her hair flying in every direction and says, “You smell nice.”

“Thanks.”

“You always smell nice. It’s very confusing. Stop it.” She whisper-yells.

I am loving this. “I’ll try.” I reply, trying to stifle my laugh.

I watch her amused as she sings the song playing at the top of her voice as her eyes brighten and she smiles widely, making me smile in the process. Although I love the drunk Anika, I think it’s better if she sobers up before she ends up hurting herself. “I will go bring you some water, okay?” I caress her face, and she smiles softly at me, knocking the wind out of me.

“Stay here, okay?” I say softly. She nods, and I march towards the counter where the water is kept, not before giving her one last look. She looks so happy, and that makes me so happy.

CHAPTER 41

ANIKA

My head feels like a balloon.

A wobbly, swaying, colorful balloon.

I blink through the Holi madness around me, the blinding splash of red and green in the air, the chaos of laughter and screams, and the endless smear of color on every face. There’s music pounding from somewhere near the pool. Or is it inside my skull? I can't tell. Everything is spinning. I don’t know what was in that drink. Someone said it was thandai. But they didn’t say bhaang thandai.

I remember Aarav.

He left. No—he said he was getting me water. I squint around, but I don’t see him. Just a thousand colors dancing in front of me. People with smeared faces and water guns, people dancing, people laughing, and people flying into each other like it’s the last Holi on earth.

And no, Aarav. Maybe he left. Again.

My chest tightens, stupidly, and I press my palm over it, like it’ll stop this strange ache from crawling up my throat.

“Anikaa!” someone shouts near my ear and throws red powder into my hair. I yelp. “You look like a tomato now!” a familiar voice says. Aditi? Or Siddhant? I don't know. I wave at them and walk... or stumble... away.

I push through the crowd like a little paper boat in a stormy river. Everything is loud. Too loud. My thoughts are louder.

Why hasn’t he come back? He does this, doesn’t he?

Shows up... stays... and disappears before I can even breathe. I feel tears prickling the back of my eyes, but I shake my head. No crying in public. That’s the rule.

I trip over someone’s foot and laugh. “Sorry, sorry, my bad!” I say, and the guy nods, smiling, dancing away.

People are happy. They are allowed to be. I was happy too… just a few minutes ago. I was with him. He was smiling at me. He let me color him first. After twelve years. Twelve freaking years.

I clutch the side of a chair to balance myself. The world is tilting. Or maybe I’m just tilting. I don’t know. My head feels floaty and light and sad all at once.

I find my way into the house, escaping the noise and heat. The music dulls behind closed windows, but the thudding in my chest doesn’t stop.