Page 47 of Reasons We Break

“How many times do I have to say this? If you want to keep this arrangement up, you don’t get to ask questions. Six. The usual place.”

She was supposed to meet Neetu at six. “But—”

He hangs up, leaving Simran with a sinking stomach. Hopefully she can finish fast and make it to Neetu’s just a little late.

Chandani descends her ladder with the last posters and jabs Simran’s arm. “I can’t believe this. I thought you were some kind of saint! Is this why you’ve been avoiding TJ? You don’t want her to know?”

She sounds gleeful. Simran blinks, still disoriented from her call. “What?”

“Don’t act all coy.” They’ve finished here, so they line their ladders up against the wall and set off to the admin building, where the next set of boards await. “You and Jassa flirt after every council meetingandyou have another man on the side?‘I need you tonight.’Who’s Nick, bitch?”

Of course she overheard. “Nick is a friend from a community org,” Simran says as they walk outside into the May sun, passing a construction site. “They recently lost their bookkeeper, so I’m helping out. Also, me and Jassa don’t—”

“Sothisis what I have to do to get you to talk to me,” Chandani muses. “Ask about your love life. And here I was this whole time, trying to make our friendship pass the Bechdel test.”

Theirfriendship? “Neither of them are my—”

Chandani stops in place. “Speaking of men with a capitalM. Oh my god.”

Simran follows her gaze, and stops, too. They’ve found themselves in front of the new dorm’s construction zone. And there’s a familiar figure on the unfinished landing above them.

Rajan’s got his hands hooked on the beam above his head, watching them, but...oh. Gone is his usual shapeless hoodie. And in the light of day, there’s a lot on display.Arms, is Simran’s most intelligent thought. Gleaming-from-sweat, rich-brown-from-the-sun, sculpted-by-God kind of shoulders and arms. A black tattoo crawls up the side of his neck from under his white tank, the same as Nick’s. She hastily drags her eyes away, but then she’s staring at the shirt, or rather the way it’s smudged with dirt and clinging to him, and those dark olive cargo pants, tucked into black work boots...She doesn’t know where to look at him. Everywhere seems obscene.

So she refocuses on his face, and the small grin unfurling on his mouth, in his eyes too, like he knows exactly what she’s thinking. He doesn’t call her out on it, though. “What’s up, Simran Sahiba?”

He takes off his hard hat, which has got to be against safety protocol. She has to think about safety protocol instead of the careless way he tucks his hat under his arm. She looks over his shoulder instead. “Hi, Rajan.”

She feels his gaze heavily before he turns his attention elsewhere. “Chandani. What’re you doing with my girl?”

Simran’s eyes jump back to him. He winks. Chandani, meanwhile, examines her fingernails. “Who’re you, again?”

“I can always remind you if you forgot,” Rajan says.

Simran blinks. This goes slightly beyond his usual flirtation. And Chandani—Simran glances her way—Chandani’s cheeks seem bright suddenly. Several clues slide into place. Didn’t Nick say Rajan was with some girl at his construction site? Some girl they confused with Simran? It couldn’t be—

“Nothanks. You suck in bed,” Chandani snaps. Then she whips around and tries to steer Simran away. Simran, dazed, lets her. At least until Rajan calls to her.

“Simran Auntie. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

She turns immediately. He’s still standing there, and all she can think about is him with Chandani and—thingsthey might’ve been doing. “M-me?”

“Yeah, you. Come here.” He crooks his fingers at her.

“What the hell?” Chandani mutters, which spurs Simran to coherent speech.

“We volunteer together at Hillway House. That’s probably what this is about. I’ll meet you at the admin building.” She shakes Chandani off and marches over.

Rajan sits on the landing and jumps the rest of the way to the ground. Then he straightens to full height. Simran’s never felt more childish next to him than right now, knowing this new information about him and Chandani. It’s so strange knowing people her age casually do that sort of thing, whileshehas only a concept of it—

Rajan asks, “What did Nick say to you before I showed up that night?”

Simran stares. It’s been weeks since then. “Why?”

“Curious.” The flirting tone is gone. Her heart jumps. Something tells her this isn’t a random question. Somehow...he suspects.

She looks him in the eye. “He said they wanted you working for them again. That’s it.”

“And you haven’t heard from them since. Right?”