Page 10 of Reasons We Break

Hillway House is crammed between a bakery and a fabrics shop. A middle-aged, brown-haired dude waves from the door, then ushers them into his office. It’s only slightly bigger than the elevator, and plastered with inspirational posters. “I’m Paul,” he says. “Your new mentor isn’t here yet, but that’s okay. We can get started on the paperwork...You must be Kat!”

Rajan tunes out the introductions. They all sink into hard-backed chairs, and he only jolts back to alertness when he hears the ice-cream truck’s music again. He sits upright and looks out the window. Within seconds the truck passes again.

Most people wouldn’t get antsy when an ice-cream truck starts circling the block, but Rajan has only survived this long because he’s paranoid. It can’t be a coincidence. Right? He didn’t expect them to find him so fast. He’s only been back in Kelowna a week and a half.

There’s a knock on the office door. Paul and Kat stop talking.

“There she is,” Paul says. “Come in, Simran!”

Because Rajan’s staring out the window, it takes him a second to process the name. By the time he does, the door’s already opening. No. Surely that’s not—

He turns to look. And it is.

The way his heart rate skyrockets, you’d think someone just pulled a gun on him.

Simran Kaur Aujla looks almost exactly the same as the last time he saw her, the end of high school nine months ago. Right down to the wire frames of her glasses. Dressed in her usual way: a shapeless maroon turtleneck, straight-leg jeans stuffed into laced boots. And of course, that glossy, thick braid that falls to her knees. He looks back at her face and finds her brown eyes locked on his.

“Rajan, Kat, this is Ms. Aujla,” Paul announces, oblivious. “Simran, this is Rajan, our newest volunteer, and his PO, Kat.”

Rajan didn’t read Hillway’s welcome brochure, but he’s pretty sure having history with your mentor would be frowned upon. He waits for Simran to say something.

But she doesn’t. “Hi, Rajan.”

Interesting. Well, two can play this game. “Hey,Ms. Aujla.”

“Call me Simran.” Her tone is completely neutral, and she greets Kat next before perching in the chair next to her. “Sorry I’m late, Paul.”

“No problem,” Paul says merrily, sorting through the files on his desk. “Let me find the papers to sign and we can get you out of here...”

Kat engages Simran in friendly, aimless conversation, while Rajan silently wills Simran to look his way. But she looks everywhere in the roombutat him.

Maybe she saw his file. Maybe not. For him to even be here means he majorly screwed up. And the idea that she knows that, that that’s the reason she won’t look him in the eye...

“Here it is!” Paul slides a piece of paper in Rajan’s direction. “I need both your signatures on this mentor-mentee agreement. By signing, you’re agreeing to be kind and respect each other’s boundaries.”

Rajan hesitates. Hecouldconfess they know each other. Sure, the next mentor Paul pairs him with will probably be a pain in the ass, but at least Rajan won’t have the overwhelming sense he’s disappointed them before even starting.

He opens his mouth, and that’s when Simran finally looks at him.

Her expression gives nothing away. But, the same sixth sense that warned him off from an ice-cream truck whispers something now.

He shuts his mouth and signs.

Rajan wonders throughout the next ten minutes if she’ll ever mention it. He wonders if she’ll hesitate when she signs the agreement (she doesn’t). He wonders if she’ll break when they’re told their first volunteering day is Saturday at a breakfast kitchen. Or when Kat jots down Simran’s number before bouncing across the street to see her next client. But Simran appears fully committed to acting like they’ve never met.

So, he’s actually a little surprised when she follows him out to the bus stop afterward. He says nothing; she’ll talk when she’s ready, he figures. When the coast is clear. But they stand in silence so long he starts genuinely wondering if she’s just waiting for the bus.

Then, finally:

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Rajan scoffs. Of course that’s the first thing she says. “Why didn’tyou?”

Simran doesn’t respond. He suspects she doesn’t have an answer to that. Good to know they’re on the same page.

“What happens if they figure it out?” he asks instead. “Do I get kicked out? Do you?”

That shakes her out of her funk. “There’s nothing to figure out. Hillway rules prohibit conflicts of interest. That would require us to have a significant relationship of some kind, which we don’t.”