Page 147 of Reasons We Break

It’sveryconfusing, because her mom still won’t talk to her. And now that Rajan won’t either, it’s like she lost both of them at once.

But, if the past few months have shown her anything, it’s that life goes on.

TJ’s mom seems to share that mindset, because she comes by again a few days later, and she and Simran’s mom are perfectly civil to each other. Simran would’ve thought after their big fight, things would be even worse. But instead it’s like something’s loosened between them. Amidst their laughter, Simran overhears them discussing the cancer: There won’t be any further treatments necessary for her mom. It’s really over.

For now, anyway.

And she hates that thought for digging into her head, but it does. All day, and into the evening, when she gets dressed and heads for the door.

Kiran stops her. “Can I borrow your truck?”

“I’m going to Hillway.” Several people are graduating the program today, and Simran decided to set up a dinner in their honour. “Free food” was how she advertised it to them, served after their volunteering commitment that evening.

She tries to sidestep Kiran, but Kiran blocks her again. “I just,” Kiran takes a deep breath, “have a job interview, okay? At a BC lifestyle magazine, and I don’t want to ask Mom and Dad for their car. Can I take yours? I’ll make sure you get a ride home.”

“Ajobinterview? Here?”

Kiran nods. “I quit my job in Ontario. It’s not like my career was taking off over there anyway. I’m only going back to pick up my stuff.” When Simran stares, she adds, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not planning to live in this house, but I’m coming back to BC somewhere. I want to be closer to you.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“It’s forme. I need a reset. And...I want to get to know my baby sister better.” She elbows Simran. “Because clearly I don’t know you at all. Never would’ve guessedyou’dhook up with a bad boy at a wedding reception.”

Trust Kiran to make all this into a joke. “We weren’t—”

“Anyway,”Kiran continues, grinning, “I thought you were into Jassa. You have the same interests, he’s an overachiever like you, and Mom and Dad like him. Meanwhile, this Randhawa kid is the opposite of you in every way. Like,wow, where did my little sister’s logic go?”

Simran sighs and looks at the ceiling. “Can’tone personbelieve I made the right choice?”

It’s more of a rhetorical question, but Kiran’s smile fades.

“You know, when I moved out, I had all these big dreams. Mom and Dad thought my job was unstable and would end with me crashing and burning, and honestly...I wondered that, too.” Her mouth twists. “Believing in myself when no one else did was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s still hard. I’m twenty-eight, I’m stuck in the same job, it’s not glamorous. I haven’t ‘made it.’ You’d think I’d finally accept that everyone was right, but I keep going anyway. You should, too.”

Simran stands there, shocked. Her sister made her own decisions, and they didn’t work out. And she’s still admitting that to Simran. Simran could saywe told you so, or she could say something that matters. She could give Kiran what she hopes someone will give her, in the future, if her choices end up being mistakes.

“I’m sorry I ever said your choices were illogical,” Simran tells her. “I didn’t know it hurt you like that. I do believe in you, you know. You’re only twenty-eight. You have a whole life to make it work.”

Kiran bursts into tears, surprising Simran.

“Thank you,” she says. “Thank you for saying that.”

The Hillway dinner is in the gymnasium of Simran’s high school. It was easy for her to book, due to her connections with the school admin. It’s a convenient location, too, seeing as the afternoon’s volunteering took place across the road at the indoor turf, where the group inflated bouncy castles and set up other activities for a kids’ event tomorrow.

Looking up at theNORTHRIDGE SECONDARYsign, she feels a twinge of nostalgia. Her problems used to be so easily contained within these brick walls.

She shakes her head and lets herself inside.

Paul and a few other Hillway organizers are already in the gym when Simran arrives. Lights are strung over the doorway, aTHANK YOUbanner hanging over the stage. The caterers are bringing supplies in from their truck.

Paul spots her immediately. “Simran! I’ve been looking for you. The caterers were asking where we wanted the food—I was thinking the back? That way, we can leave the stage empty so the Hillway president can say a few words.” He nods in the direction of a balding man in a suit, who waves from where he’s talking to a volunteer nearby. “You must meet him. He’s the grandson of the founder—”

A voice sounds behind Simran, so familiar she drops her water bottle. “Dude, I don’t think anyone cares.”

And before she can draw another breath, Rajan steps to her side, scooping up her water bottle and placing it in her hands without a second glance. While she stares at him, speechless, Paul frowns.

“Rajan, I’m glad you volunteered to help tonight, but it’s an honour to have Mr. Hillway—”

“They’re here to eat,” Rajan interrupts. He’s in a black Hillway T-shirt like everyone else. But he’s finished probation—what’s he doing here? “If you ask them to listen to boring speeches instead, you’re just making them do more community service on their night off.”