“Maybe you should go back to using the old Altoid tin,” Rupak said.
“Why? I love this box.”
She shut the box, placed it on the floor near the coffee table, and licked the edge of the rolling paper.
“I was thinking,” she said. “Do you want to come to Pensacola with me for Thanksgiving? My parents would love to meet you, and I think you’d like it there.”
Rupak did want to go to Pensacola with her. He wanted to be part of a traditional American Thanksgiving with turkey and stuffing and whatever else Thanksgiving included. He wanted to be on the receiving end of jokes about an Indian coming to Thanksgiving. He wanted to eat oysters and drink wine on the beach with Elizabeth and go sailing with her friends. He wanted to know who her parents were who tithed ten percent of their income to the church. He wanted to see how he would react to staying in a house with a dog. But he knew it was not fair to his parents. They would be here in less than two weeks, and he had to sacrifice this beautiful blond woman sitting in front of him. And he had to do it now. It wasn’t fair to her to wait until morning.
“I don’t think that would be such a great idea, Lizzy. I’ve actually been thinking about it and I think I need to focus more on my work, you know. I’m not doing that well,” Rupak said. He thought he was going to say they should end the relationship because there was no chance of a future, they were from different worlds, and there was no point. But instead he found himself giving this excuse that left a window open for them to get back together if he managed to get his grades up and keep his parents happy.
“You aren’t going to just study over Thanksgiving break. You should come. It gets really lonely in Ithaca when everyone leaves.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You can study in Florida. I’ll tell my family that you’re coming with work. They would love it. My mother rented a Bollywood film from Netflix last week.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Nothing, sorry. I just mean…do they…how much have you told your parents about us?”
“Just that I’m dating a guy from India. And they’ve seen a few pictures of you. That’s all. Why, what did you tell your parents?”
“The same. That I’m dating a girl from Florida. That’s all. Anyway, Lizzy, that’s not the point. The point is that I need to focus more on my work. Not just over Thanksgiving, but in general. And I don’t want to drag you into my boring life with me, you know.”
“I’m studying too. I hardly get in the way of your work. I’m doing fine in school,” Elizabeth said. She leaned up from the couch where she had been reclining against Rupak and reached for her beer, which was on a coaster on the coffee table. It was easier to speak to the back of her head, Rupak thought.
“Well, good for you. But I’m not. And I need to focus on my work. I can’t spend all my time hanging out with you.”
“What are you saying?” Elizabeth looked back at him over her shoulder.
Rupak was trying to say absolutely nothing more. This was exactly the conversation he had been hoping to avoid tonight.
“Oh my God,” Elizabeth said, standing up and moving across the room. “You didn’t tell your parents about me, did you?”
“What? What do my parents have to do with this?”
Rupak wanted to stand up and be at the same height as her, but he knew that to do that now would seem confrontational. He had to stay seated and stay looking casual.
“You are so pathetic, Rupak. You’re a kid. You’re a confused little kid. I have never met someone over the age of sixteen who is as confused about themselves as you are.”
“Okay, you know what, that’s really offensive. And you keep so much from me. Why won’t you tell me how Andrew proposed?”
“What?”
“You keep that whole part of your life so hidden,” Rupak said. He knew he was flailing, but now he was in too deep. “What, the Indian guy can’t know about your past? You think I can’t handle the fact that you’ve had other men in your life? You see me as some conservative stopover before you end up with someone like Andrew who was probably born knowing how to set up a tent. I’m just exotic to you. Like some zoo animal.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I just invited you to Pensacola, into my family and my life. Stop trying to turn this around. God, take some responsibility. You can’t even figure out that you’re failing because you don’t study. That’s it. It’s simple. You’re just a confused child. Stop blaming everything else—stop blaming your parents, stop blaming India, stop blaming America. Figure out who you are and just be that person. Forget Thanksgiving.”
“Fine,” Rupak said. “And forget meeting my parents when they come to visit.”
“When are they coming to visit?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Rupak said.
“They’re coming? They’re coming. Oh wow, they’re coming. Your parents are coming to visit. And you can’t be man enough to introduce me. I don’t even think I’m that upset because you saved me from continuing to date a child. And you’re right—Andrew does know how to set up a tent, and it’s sexy. I…No, I don’t have words. You don’t deserve words. But you know what? You do deserve pity and I pity you, Rupak. I really pity you. You can leave, please.”
Elizabeth kicked aside the pencil box and went into the bathroom. Rupak heard the shower turn on. She was right. He was a coward who was terrified about what other people thought about him. And he was failing.
“Why don’t I meet you out somewhere?” Mrs. Ray said. She did not want to care what anybody thought, but she also was not ready to invite Upen to Mayur Palli. For starters, someone or the other was bound to see and gossip. And, if he came home, then what? Sex, or something resembling sex, would be in the air and she did not know how that worked at their age. Her skin sagged in places, her breasts no longer stayed where they should, and what about him? Was he still capable of getting hard? As for her—frankly, she had never experienced an orgasm. She had had, and enjoyed, sex enough in her lifetime, but it was hard to desire what she did not know. She had read about orgasms—these days, of course, the headlines of magazines screamed about the powerful experience on the covers and it was hard to avoid reading about it or seeing it everywhere, but she had never felt it. From what she gathered, it felt like a particularly pleasurable sneeze. But her vagina embarrassed her and she could not imagine a man prodding around down there. Mrs. Ray had once looked at porn on her computer. She did not know quite how to do it so she simply went to porn.com. It was horrifying. There were women—mostly hairless down there—sitting freely on men’s faces while the men did God only knows what. Was that sex these days? It was best to suggest another meeting out somewhere with Upen.
“We could meet at Dilli Haat for a walk and maybe have lunch sitting out in the sun?” she said.