6. The Argument

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EDITED

I'm up early the next morning. Our math professor has canceled class for the day, but I've already completed most of my assignments, so I'm left to my own devices. It's unlike me to wake up so early, but I didn't sleep well and doubt that I can go back to sleep with so many things to do. I know Riya doesn't want me working, and she has good reason to be saying so, but I hate that I'm completely dependent on her and my aunt to provide a living for my sister and me. Riya claims that it's no trouble to her, but that's the easiest lie to spot. Her face says it all.

So, at seven a.m. I finally pry myself out of the sticky, sweat-coated sheets and head to the kitchen to make breakfast. Taking a small bowl of steaming oatmeal, I sit on the couch and place my laptop on one of the pillows while I eat. I seldom have time to watch TV, and I can probably use my early breakfast time to skim through the channels, but I have other plans.

While Riya snores away in her bed, I begin to scroll through job opportunities that I've been ignoring for a while. When I was in high school, they signed us up for a program that could notify us whenever there was an open job based on our majors, but I never paid any attention to the little red dots until today.

The jobs that I'm being offered are simple and pay well. Between the money Riya makes and the money that I could make, we'd have enough to pay the rent for this month. Mum's medical bills are another issue, but at least we'd have a home to live in for a while longer. Living paycheck to paycheck isn't my ideal standard of living, but it's what we have to do for now.

I'm considering a photo editing job in Orange County when Chandini stumbles into the kitchen, half-asleep but in full makeup and clothes. I've forgotten that she has school today, but luckily I made extra oatmeal, which I see her take two heaps of.

"What are you looking at?" She comes to sit beside me and glances at my laptop. "I thought your major was communications?"

"It is, but one of my minors is graphic design," I say. I poke her cheek, which is stuffed like a chipmunk. "Don't put that much food in your mouth. You'll choke."

She rolls her eyes and swallows. "I've choked on worse," she teases. She picks the remote up from the ground and switches to the news network, humming as she continues to eat. Comfortable silence fills the gap between us until I remember my conversation with Riya from last night.

"Hey...Chandini?"

"Yeah?"

"You've...er...you've slept with guys before, right?"

"Sure." She's not reluctant to talk about her sex life and shrugs indifferently. "Plenty of them."

My eye ticks, but I try not to react too harshly. "Have you—you've been careful, right?"

"Careful?" She glances at me. "Careful how?"

"You know...you've used protection, right? Condoms and stuff?" But even as I ask, I know her answer. She stares at me blankly.

"The pull-out method does wonders," she says dryly.

"And it is also not as effective as birth control," I snap. A scowl begins to grow on Chandini's face, and I take a deep breath to keep our conversation from getting out of hand. "Look, you'll be eighteen soon and legally I won't have to worry about you as much as I do now, but I'd still rather you be safe than sorry."

"Meaning...what?" Chandini frowns. "You want me to take a pill or something?"

"They can cause blood clots," I say. "I was thinking along the lines of an IUD implant. It's not painful and...well, I guess you'll be as safe as I can keep you."

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