Page 121 of Reasons We Break

“I had to do some research. It was a mash-up of a lot of different ciphers...but I figured it out eventually.”

He’s too casual about this. “Really.”

“Yeah. It was kind of a weird message. Something about a playplace. Must be an inside joke?”

Simran nods. “Yeah, it’s hard to explain—”

“Funny thing, though, on thatexactdate, there was a playplace in town that got shot up. Gang stuff, I heard.” He meets her eyes. “Quite the coincidence.”

“Quite,” Simran agrees. The silence stretches. He’s eyeing her bruise again. And it’s like they’re back to how they were a few months ago: assessing each other warily, wondering what the other knows that they don’t.

He inhales, clearly on the verge of asking another question. And—she panics. She blurts the first thing that comes to mind while he’s holding her wrist.

“Can I kiss you?”

Jassa’s eyes widen. Instantly, Simran remembers herself. Mortified, she starts pulling away. She can come up with a lie; what was she thinking? “Never mind, I—”

“No, no,” he rushes to say. “I’ve just never kissed anyone before.”

Simran gets a rush of déjà vu.

“Have you?” he asks slowly, curiously.

“No,” she replies with complete sincerity. “Do you...want to see what it would be like?”

In answer, his hand goes to the back of her neck. She meets him halfway. And then they’re kissing in this darkened hallway.

Kissing Jassa is different. His mouth is different. The way he moves and feels and touches her—different. She’s only had one experience before, so—she tells herself—it’s natural to compare. He’s far more hesitant, letting her lead although she hardly knows what she’s doing. The scruff on his jawline startles her skin, sends unexpected sparks down her spine. And it is far too brief.

And then they’re staring at each other wide-eyed. Simran tries to evaluate the feeling of it. It was...nice. Short and sweet; exactly how most peoples’ first kisses probably are. And Rajan was right—shecankiss with her glasses on.

Her body suddenly feels terribly heavy.

Jassa retreats to an appropriate distance. She wonders if he wanted to kiss her again, and didn’t simply out of respect. Rajan never would’ve held back once they got going. Not out of a lack of respect for her—no, she was all on board—but out of a lack of respect fortradition.

God, does she ever miss disrespecting tradition with him.

“That bad, huh,” Jassa says at her silence, his mouth tilting into a self-deprecating smile.

“What? No.” Simran blinks back to reality. “I...” Her voice fades. What is she doing, toying with Jassa? She lied to him, then kissed him so she wouldn’t have to lie to him some more. “It’s nothing to do with you. I’m just...realizing I’ve got a lot going on. I’m not ready for this. Not yet.”

When her mom was sick, it felt like the clock was ticking on making a choice her mom would be happy about. But now...the hole in her chest reminds her it will not be filled easily. How people move on after loss, she doesn’t understand. Right now it feels impossible. And that’s not fair to either of them.

Jassa studies her for another moment before backing away. “Okay.” He turns toward the room with the ring. Another round of cheers erupts, and he pauses. “But if you need help with any more...scavenger hunts, you know where to find me.”

And with one last knowing glance, he slips through the door, leaving her alone in the hall.

The following afternoon, Simran is rudely awoken by a pillow hitting her face.

She pushes it aside and rolls over. The pillow bounces off her back again. This time she lifts her head to squint. “Stop—” She halts when she sees the blurry outline of Kiran, and next to her, TJ.

“Get up,” Kiran says, while Simran freezes, suddenly much more awake. Why isTJhere? “We’re doing your hair.”

“I don’t need my hair done.”

“If we don’t intervene, you’re going to wake up fifteen minutes before Neetu’s party and throw on a suit. Don’t you ever get tired of being a slob?” Kiran picks something up from her desk. “What’re these?”

Simran puts her glasses on to find Kiran examining one of the USBs. Instantly, she’s on her feet to shove it in a drawer. “School project.”