Sitara Khanna, a twenty eight year old librarian, is an acid attack survivor. With a half burnt face but a heart full of determination and calibers to survive in the world, she missed a certain element in her life. Love.
Yash Chaudhary, a twenty ni...
It's only after we've placed our orders for a couple of Sam Adams (a beer brand) when Dev punches me gently on the arm, and says, "So wasn't the big date tonight? What happened?"
I need to tell him. I need to talk about this with somebody who wasn't in on it. If Dev knew, he would have warned me. He wouldn't have kept me in the dark like Sitara and my parents did.
"We didn't go," I finally say.
"Yeah, no kidding."
I rub my temples with my fingertips. "She was lying to me all along, Dev."
Dev sucks in a breath. "Holy shit. You serious?"
"She..." I swallow hard. "You remember when we were at Hardrocks?" I ask.
He snorts in reply.
"Right, and you were acting like it was the best place in the world because you were so in love." He points out.
I wince. It seems like a million years ago now.
"So remember how I thought I smelled Sitara at the cafe?" I, further, ask.
He laughs.
"Yeah, that was funny." He snorts.
"Well, it turns out she was really there."
He felt quite for a second.
"I don't get it," he says. "She was at the cafe? So...?"
"Think about it," I hiss at him. "Think about who was in the store that day."
There's a silence as the wheels are turning inside Dev's brain. Then a loud clunk as our beers hit the table.
A soft hand on my shoulder. "Here are your beers," a female voice says. "Can I get you boys anything else?"
I lift my face in the direction of the voice. "No, but keep them coming."
"You got it, cutie."
Her footsteps disappear into the distance, and now all I can hear is Dev's heavy breathing next to me.
"Holy shit," he breathes. "Sitara wasn't... I mean, she isn't..."
"Apparently, she has severe facial deformities."
I find my beer on the table, feeling a surge of relief when my fingers make contact with the condensation on the glass. I take a long swig, which probably drains half the liquid inside.
"She was burned by acid as a teen. Her coworker told me."
"Holy shit," he says again. There's a long silence before he speaks again.
"Yash, that girl at the cafe... I mean, she was..."
I look down at the table, hating myself for what I'm about to say. "How bad is it, Dev?"
"It's..." He swallows loudly. "It's bad. Really bad."
God.
"I never saw anything like it," he goes on. "It was... I mean, wow. I can't believe that was Sitara."
And now I drain the rest of my glass. Where the hell is that waitress?
"It was really bad," he says. "Really. You definitely don't want to go out with a girl who looks like that."
His words tug at me.
"What is that supposed to mean?" My tome increased it's pitch.
"I'm just telling you as your friend," he says. "Trust me. She was like a fucking circus freak or something. You dodged a bullet."
My heart is thumping in my chest. "What kind of shitty thing to say is that?"
"What kind of...?" Dev sounds baffled. "I'm just being honest with you, man. I'm being your eyes for you. If you could see, you'd never go out with a girl who looks like her."
My ears grow warm. In anger.
"Do you think I'm some kind of superficial asshole? That I wouldn't go out with a great girl just because of how she looks?"
Dev's glass slams on the table. "What the fuck, Yash? I'm just being honest with you! You're the one who's having a shit fit over this!"
"Yeah, because she lied about it!" I retort.
"Well, who the hell could blame her?"
He's right. How could I have expected her to tell me when she knew first hand how everyone reacted to her appearance? She wasn't playing me for a fool. She just cared about what I thought too much to tell me the truth. She was terrified I'd ditch her the second I knew.
And when I found out, I acted exactly the way she had worried I would. Like a superficial asshole. Like everyone else.
Fuck.
"I've got to call Sitara," I say.
"What?" Dev sounds incredulous. "What are you talking about? How many of those Sam Adams did you have before I got you here?"
"I made a big mistake." I fumble around in my pocket for my phone. "I've got to talk to her."
Dev grabs my forearm with his big, meaty hand, which makes me think of Sitara's small, soft one. "Hang on a minute. Don't do something you'll regret."
"Too late," I say. My fingers make contact with the phone and I pull it from my pocket. Dev doesn't try to stop me as I recite, "Siri, Call Sitara."
It rings. And rings.
And rings.
Shit. This isn't good.
"She's not answering on purpose," I say.
Dev is quiet for a moment. "You don't know that."
"I was awful to her." I justify.
"Calm down. I'm sure she's used to it."
And that makes me feel even worse.
"I have to make this right, Dev."
I'm going to fix this. I'm going to get Sitara back. Even if I have to call her a hundred times.
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