Page 15 of Rani Deshpande Takes the Wheel
Halfway through the proposal, I pause to stretch my fingers as a reward for my productivity and glance up for the first time since I sat down. And I veer back in surprise. Kush is seated at the occupied table I noticed earlier. He had his head ducked when I walked in, so I didn’t realize it was him.
He glances up, and his eyes meet mine. It’s impossible to ignore each other now. I give him the world’s most awkward wave. He waves back, a corner of his mouth curving up.
He’s too far away to speak to, so after a belated moment, I decide to gather my stuff and join him at his table. He watches me walk over, scooting his laptop closer to make room for me.
“Hi,” I say once seated. I wrap my arms around my stomach. The AC is on full blast in the café. “What are you working on?”
“I have a discussion post due for a summer class,” he says. He hesitates, then shrugs, like he might as well say it. “And I just wanted a little break from the gathering,” he adds.
“Only natural,” I say.
“What about you?” he asks.
“I also have an assignment due,” I say. I explain about the research project, and he nods along in appreciation. “I’m looking forward to it,” I say. “These kinds of opportunities are definitely part of the reason I wanted to transfer to UW.”
His brows rise a little at the admission. I’ve surprised myself too; I think of how I brushed him off at Ajoba’s party when he asked about my transferring. This feels like an olive branch.
He takes it. “That’s really amazing, Rani,” he says. “I’ve heard great things about Valdivia, so I’m sure you’ll have a lovely experience.”
“Thanks,” I say, lips twisting in a smile. His tone is gentle and friendly, likely proceeding with caution as a result of our emotional last encounter. I remember my talk with Simran and take a deep breath. “I’ve been meaning to reach out,” I begin. “I’m sorry about our lesson last week.”
“Which part?” he says.
I roll my eyes but take it. “All of it,” I say. “I should have listened when you told me to stop, and I should generally have been more mindful behind the wheel.” There’s a beat. “And, you know, I could have been more calm after.”
“I mean, it’s okay to cry,” he says. “You were in a minor accident, that’s natural enough.” He fixes me with a look, dark eyes resolute. “The listening part, though, is definitely something to work on.”
“Right,” I say. “Agreed.”
“Maybe we can plan for a lesson this week,” he says.
I feel my insides loosen. I’m going to get my license this year, after all. “That sounds perfect,” I say.
“Great,” he says.
“Great,” I repeat. We stare at each other for a moment longer. I notice new freckles dotting his nose, surprising on such brown skin. The PNW summer effect. He blinks, and then we both return to our screens. We work in silence for a half hour, fingers typing away at our keyboards in sync.
When I click submit, I look up and realize Kush has been done for a bit. He’s on his phone, waiting for me. He sees I’m finished and puts his phone away.
“Shall we?” he asks, and I nod. Slices of hot-pink cake are waiting for us when we return to the bustling courtyard.
Chapter Eight
Less than an hour into my shift, and I already feel a migraine coming on. Running the front desk is by far my least favorite part of the job. I didn’t realize when I signed up to work in the children’s library just how much time I would be spending withparents.
“I don’t understand,” the mom in front of me says. There’s a yoga mat over her shoulder, and her hair is frizzy from a workout, dark roots starting to peek through the blond. “How is it possible you don’t carry the latestDragon Witch? They’re a massively popular series.”
“That’s the whole issue,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady and apologetic. “All our copies are checked out at the moment. But I’d be happy to help you place a hold.” I don’t mention that she’d be looking at about a thirty-week wait.
“I don’t want to place a hold,” she says, lips thinning. “I want to check the book out today.”
There’s a beat. Does she expect me to hunt down readers and demand a return? “Sorry about that,” I say. “You can always try the Claremont Library?” I say, referring to our sister location the next town over.
“That’s a twenty-minute drive, and I’m late for a nail appointment,” she snaps. “Well, Annalise is going to be devastated. The bookstore is already sold out.” She heaves a sigh and crosses her arms. “I also have some documents that need to be scanned, if you can take care of that for me?”
I push down the prickle of hot irritation rising. “So, our printers are actually self-service—”
A voice cuts through our conversation. “Hey, Rani?” Michael calls from the desk behind me. “Need your help with something if you got a sec.”
