Page 71 of Reasons We Break

Simran takes her shoes off. “Fine, why?”

“I heard she hasn’t been attending events lately.” When Simran gives her a surprised look, she shrugs. “We have some mutual friends. I just wondered...She’s okay, right?”

Something in her voice is less than casual. It reminds Simran that she and her aunt were both raised by the same woman.

Simran faces her. “Yes, she’s okay.”

Her masi’s face breaks into relief. “Good. Good.”

That relief twists Simran’s gut with jealousy. She wishes she could tell the truth. She wishes she could drag her masi out of her peace. Then, at least, Simran wouldn’t have to endure this alone.

TJ’s dad appears in the doorway. There are bags under his eyes from his night-shift work, but he smiles at her. Simran automatically slides back into socializing mode, going to hug him. “Are you on your way to work, Massar ji?”

“Uh, no.” He exchanges a glance with his wife. “We’re having a guest.”

Simran looks between them, smiling guilelessly. “Really? Who?”

Her masi seems to panic and glances at the staircase. “TJ!” she yells. There’s a note of strain in it.

A moment later, footsteps run down the stairs. Simran would recognize those bounding footfalls anywhere. And despite herself, a real smile pulls at her mouth as she turns to face her.

Her cousin TJ always brims with energy, and today is no different. She barely comes to a halt on the last stair, her brown eyes sparkling. Her dark hair is tossed up into a messy bun. She’s dressed in a form-fitting black sweater, jeans, and simple makeup. She and Simran don’t look much alike—aside from how hairy they both are. Those genes areverystrong.

“Simran!” TJ hops off the last stair. Simran steps right into her perfumed embrace. “I missed you,” her cousin murmurs, leaning her fuzzy cheek against Simran’s equally fuzzy one, and Simran finds herself relaxing into it. They rock from foot to foot, and for some reason, tears prick at Simran’s eyes. She missed being hugged like this. Tightly, carefree, as much a comfort to her as it is to the other.

By the time TJ steps away, Simran has pulled herself together. She clears her throat. “I heard you’re having guests. I can come back later.”

TJ jumps up and down as if they haven’t rehearsed this. “No! This is perfect. It’s Charlie. He’d love to see you. I think he misses having you in all his student council stuff. How long has it been?”

“At least since graduation.”

TJ’s dad parts the window curtains and squints; headlights hit his face. “Does he drive a sedan?”

“Dad,”TJ groans. “Get away from the window.” She looks at Simran, pitching her voice low. “See what I’m dealing with?”

“Want me to say a prayer?”

TJ smacks her arm. There’s a knock on the door, and TJ freezes. She and her parents stare at it like they’re in a horror movie and the killer has found them. After a moment, Simran goes to open the door herself. “Hi, Charlie.”

Charlie stands in the doorway bearing a bouquet of flowers. He blinks; clearly, he wasn’t told to expect her. But then he gives her a warm, wide smile. It strikes her that he looks older now. High school really is behind them. But his brown hair is parted in his familiar neat style, and he’s dressed in a navy button-down and white chinos—always erring on the side of formal. “Simran. Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Sorry. I got busy.” It’s true she doesn’t text anymore. Charlie’s too close to TJ—and apparently gets his phone stolen by her a lot—for Simran to risk it. “I hear you’re here for dinner.”

“Yes. You should stay, if you can. We need to catch up.”

He might just be acting polite, but Simran doesn’t think so. Their countless caucuses between council meetings in high school led to an inevitable friendship. It’d sure be nice to have a friend on council these days. She’s missed him, she realizes right then. She’s missed alotwhile she was shutting everyone out.

“Of course.” Simran opens the door wider, revealing TJ and her parents behind her. “This is a family event.”

Simran has to hand it to Charlie. He does everything right.

He never once implies his relationship with TJ is anything but platonic. He sits on the opposite end of the table, next to Simran and TJ’s dad. He barely even speaks to TJ directly. If you didn’t know better, you might think she and Charlie were just acquaintances, although Simran does catch them having prolonged staring contests when the parents are otherwise distracted.

Simran suspects he and TJ had a lengthy strategic meeting prior to this dinner. Particularly to prep for the seemingly innocuous questions about hiscareer goalsandfamily background. He handles them all well. Charlie’s always been good at making people feel comfortable.

As the conversation continues to flow easily, she grows restless. What was TJ worrying about, anyway? Simran isn’t needed here. She could be working on the cipher right now—there’s only hours left to solve it.

At the thought, she glances down at the checkered tablecloth. She’s got no pen, but she has her imagination. She mentally lays the letters out. One letter per square. The long string of letters runs off the tablecloth. She rearranges them, breaking the string into several lines so it can stay contained in a grid next to her plate for easy viewing. Pleased, she picks up where she last left off.