Page 107 of Reasons We Break

Simran fans herself. Zohra laughs.

“Sounds about right.” Her smile becomes catlike. She beckons Simran closer. “If you really want him wrapped around your finger, he likes when you—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Nick says, finally coming back with the water.

“Nooo,” Simran cries. “Zohra, what were you going to say?”

Nick cuts her off before she can reply. “Stop encouraging this. She’s gonna be so embarrassed later.”

Zohra puts her hands on her hips. “I’m not trying to humiliate her. I’m just helping a girl out.”

“Fucking spare me, Z.” Then he dumps the bucket of water unceremoniously over Simran’s head.

Simran shrieks. The icy water is a shock, drenching her hair and shoulders, and the cold seeps through her rain jacket. “What wasthatfor?”

“You need to get sober. Fast.” Nick drops the bucket. “You’rethe one who said you had a party to get to, remember? ‘Don’t let me miss it’?”

Oh. Right. Simran rubs her eyes. The buzz remains, temporarily relegated to background noise. “How long was I...?”

“Over an hour,” Nick says shortly. “We thought Manny killed you.”

She glances at the clock. It’s seven. Ohno. “I have to go.” She can’t let Neetu down. Not again. She staggers to her feet. The floor spins.

Nick doesn’t move to help when she collides with the cabinet. “If this party was so important, why’d you get high with Manny Khullar? What the hell were you thinking?”

A laugh escapes her without her meaning to, and then another. Whatwasshe thinking?

Simran forces her giggles back with difficulty. “I had to prove my loyalty.”

“The only thing you proved was that you’d be his bitch.”

Simran doesn’t respond. She pats herself down. Her shoulders are wet thanks to Nick’s ice water, but it didn’t reach her phone inside her jacket. She drops her hands and heads for the door, steadier this time.

Zohra blocks the doorway. “You’re going to a party likethat? Have you even looked in a mirror?”

The idea hadn’t occurred to her. “My salwar kameez is in my truck. I’ll change.”

“Say ‘baby hippopotamus’ without slurring and we’ll let you go,” Nick challenges. Simran narrows her eyes.

“Baby hippopotamus.”

She’s quite proud of herself, really, but Nick sighs. Glances at Zohra, who shrugs.

“I mean, it’s borderline?”

Nick takes his bucket and tosses more water at Simran’s face.

“Stop it!” she sputters, annoyed now.

“That’s better.” Nick drops the bucket. “Give it one hour,thengo.”

“But I’ll be so late—”

“If you go now, it’ll be obvious you’re tripping.”

She dislikes how much sense he’s making. “One hour. Then I’m going.”

“Okay.” Nick crosses his arms. “But for the record, it’s a bad idea.”