Us Against the World

20. The Work Experience

I'm sixteen again.

We're in the car together. All four of us; me, Chandini, my mom, and my dad. It's my dad's red Nissan, the one that he spent his first year's paycheck in America on to get it. Sometimes I think that he loved that car more than he loved my mom, but I don't think that's the case anymore.

All of us are young. I'm in high school and dressed in my uniform - a blue and black plaid skirt and a button-up shirt - talking animatedly about my day. Mum turns every now and then to smile at me and ask about certain aspects of my school day while also watching Chandini. My little sister is eleven and no longer the tall, striking young lady that she tries to pretend to be. Instead, she's cute and chubby, with short hair and a lollipop in her mouth. I think it's the lollipop that I brought from school for her. She always liked sweets.

And they're saying that Dana won't be coming to school until the baby's here, I hear myself continue prattling. It's like an echo; a distant voice of a person that I once was. The girl that's speaking is bright, happy, and loved. She has no care in the world and is free to be...well...herself. She's free to be a child, indifferent to bills and countless medical treatments that require her attention. That's for her parents to worry about.

Does she know what she's having? Mum asks. Chandini, eat slowly! Don't rush!

We don't know, I respond. But everyone says that it's gonna be a boy. I think it'll be a girl.

Either way, I hope she's safe throughout her last few months, Mum says. See, this is why you wait until college to be with boys! She wags her finger, a lesson that she hopes I've learned.

Boys are weird in my school anyway, I mutter. Except Ray, I guess. He's not that bad.

Ray, huh? My dad joins the conversation with an impish smile. Who's he?

The mayor - or, I guess the governor's- son, Mum answers him. Her lips lift into a smirk. Do you like him, Meera?

Mum! I whine, like every teenager does when being teased by her parents. As I watch the laughing child in front of me and sadness builds up in my gut like a cold waterfall, I realize that I miss those small moments with my family. I took advantage of the normalcy in my life and disregarded it like a piece of scrap.

Meera has a boyfriend! Meera has a boyfriend! Chandini begins to sing, twirling her lollipop playfully.

Stop it or I'm not going to get a candy for you next time, I warn her, and immediately she stops singing. Tears well up in her eyes.

No! I want candy! She whines.

Chandini, no whining, Mum reprimands her sternly. And Meera, be nice.

She was making fun of me! I snap. Why are you yelling at me too?

I'm not yelling, Mum says calmly, I'm just telling you not to provoke her.

Maybe she should stop making fun of me, I grumble.

Girls, chill out, Dad laughs. Why are you both fighting? We're going to get ice cream, na? Chandini, start thinking about what flavor you want so that we don't take up too much time at the counter.

Chandini obediently does what he asks and turns her head to the window with a huff. Dad has a laissez-faire attitude to most things and rarely yells, but when he does it's a wrath that neither of us likes to provoke.

Suddenly, all of our bodies jerk forward. The seatbelt strangles me as my head hits the headrest on the driver's seat. Mum screams and puts her hand over the gap between the front and back seats just as Dad releases the brake pedal and the car slumps to a stop. At the four-way stop, a Lambo zooms past us, booming with obnoxious rap music.