Page 26 of Reasons We Break

Simran’s treacherous brain goes back, as it has many times recently, to that conversation she overheard.I’d get to see her become an adult, get married, have children, and be settled. And now I’m learning I won’t even get that.

And it comes out of her mouth without any further thought.

“Do you want to get coffee after this?”

Jassa blinks. Once. Twice. His hesitation lasts maybe a second, but in that time Simran has eons to regret every word she said. “Never mind—”

Then he looks into her eyes. “No, it’s just, I’ve got an errand to run after this.”

“I understand.” What was she thinking? She doesn’t evendrinkcoffee. Desperate to change the topic, she says, “So—” at the same time he says, “Hey, wait.”

She does.

“You didn’t let me finish.” His voice is light as he shreds the last stolen votes. “I’m free later. How about six?”

Shereallyregrets it now. Based on his hesitation, he definitely caught the...flavour...of her question. There’s no backing out. “Six sounds great.”

And then they go back to their task like nothing happened.

By five o’clock, though, Simran is in full panic mode.

Is this a date? She can’t decide. On one hand, this could be an olive branch after a year of passive-aggressive rivalry. And maybe it would’ve felt casual if they got coffee after they finished filing, but to come backspecificallyfor that feels...definitely something extra. But he’s the one who asked her to come back. So washethe one who made it a date?

This is so confusing.

Simran opens her closet. An avalanche of clothes falls from the top shelf—she didn’t fold her laundry last night—but once the coast is clear, she pushes aside her T-shirts to reveal the part of her closet TJ has stocked.

It’s the only neat section of her closet, mainly because Simran hardly touches it. These clothes arenice. Intimidatingly so. Simran’s always too groggy in the mornings to bother with such clothing decisions. She generally regrets wearing a baggy shirt and jeans by midafternoon, resolves by evening to wear something cute the next day, stays up too late, and...the cycle renews each morning. But right now, she feels the compulsion to try them.

No particular reason, of course.

After agonizing for several minutes, Simran selects a blue paisley-patterned shirtdress. The silky material cuts closer to her body than usual, flaring at the waist and ending mid-thigh. After tugging on some leggings, she digs through her drawers, looking for the “makeup essentials” TJ stocked her with. After ten minutes she finally spots the bag behind a backpack in the corner.

She sets it on her dresser. There’s no time to watch tutorials on all the various products, so she selects a tube of lipstick and turns to the dresser mirror. This, at least, should be simple.

She realizes she’s wrong in approximately sixty seconds. In the past, she’s only used tinted lip gloss. This is too bold. It’s garishly striking and makes her look like a clown. She immediately heads to the washroom across the hall to scrub it off.

Except, as soon as she leaves her room, she collides with someone.

“Watch where you’re—” Kiran’s eyes fall to her mouth and then bug out. “What isthat?”

Simran immediately backs away into her bedroom. “Just—trying something out.”

But Kiran follows her in, her expression a mix of curiosity and glee. She grabs Simran’s chin. “Pretty colour, but you’re using too much, Miss ‘Trying It Out.’ Nice outfit, too. What’re you dressing up for?” Her voice becomes sly. “Or who?”

Simran wrenches herself out of Kiran’s grasp and sits at her dresser again. Kiran’s grin widens.

“I’m impressed. You’re actually putting it on for someone, aren’t you?”

“Leave,” Simran says evenly.

Kiran picks through the clutter on her bedroom floor to come closer. “You’re going to stab yourself in the eye with that.”

Simran looks down at the eyeliner pen she’s holding. This is probably true. She doesn’t have any artistic skill. But Kiran’s watching, so she removes her glasses and attempts it. Her hand trembles. The line emerges uneven, above the edge of her eyelid by a hair.

Kiran says, “You look stupid.”

Simran immediately sets the eyeliner down. Kiran’s right. She should just focus on her strengths, which have never included looking pretty. She fumbles for a Kleenex, but can’t find the box.