f o r t y - f o u r

*

I'm not ready. Oh, god, I am so not ready for this. My heart is about to flip-flop right out of my chest like a fish floundering on the deck of a boat, thudding so hard I can hear my pulse thrumming in my ears. My hands are clammy and I actually feel a bit sick, the threat of nausea lingering at the back of my throat and in the pit of my stomach at the thought of meeting Arjun's sister.

I know it's not that big a deal, in the grand scheme of things. But meeting new people is already nerve-inducing enough; meeting my very new boyfriend's older sister is terrifying. Like, I think I might have the nervous shits kind of terrifying.

We're in our hotel room right now, about to hop on a bus across town to meet Meera in a restaurant she chose, and I'm in the midst of a crisis about the clothes I packed. This was not a situation I anticipated when I put together old shorts and holey t-shirts: I have nothing remotely smart, nothing that screams I'm good for your brother so much as it screams I live on a beach and haven't been to a shop in five years.

Arjun, of course, looks incredible. He's in my favourite get-up of his, that billowy shirt and those tight shorts, somehow looking effortlessly put together in sandals, while I'm in a pair of denim shorts folded just above my knees, and a plain t-shirt. It's the only one without holes or a stain, and it's also the tightest.

When Arjun comes out of the bathroom, he looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on my faded shorts before he steps across the room and plants a kiss on my lips. "Ready?"

"No."

"You look ready."

"I'm not smart enough. You look smart."

"Only because this has buttons," he says, pulling at the loose fabric of his linen shirt. "And we don't need to look smart – we're going to a casual restaurant to meet my sister. It's not like we're going to the Ritz for an interview or something. She's not going to care what you're wearing. I don't care what you're wearing, as long as you're comfortable and you're still happy to do this."

I nod, though my face must belie that, seeing as I feel like a cornered mouse and probably look much the same.

"Whatever you wear, it's only for the next couple of hours," he says, leaning in for another kiss. This time his lips catch my jaw, and he tucks in closer to kiss my neck, his hand dropping to my waist. "We're going to eat with Meera and it's going to be fine, and then we're going to come back here..." He trails off and his lips meet mine, and I taste mint on his tongue. "Come on. Let's go."

"You're such a tease."

"Just letting you know there's something to look forward to," he says, tangling his fingers with mine. "Meera will be fine, I promise. I'm sure meeting her will be nothing compared to me meeting Flo – that, I know, will be a baptism by fire."

Well, he's not wrong there. My cheeks go warm and I slink back, and he chuckles to himself, giving my hand a tug.

"It's going to be fine. She might be a bit invasive and she may ask too many questions, but she's going to love you because you're so damn fucking loveable."

My cheeks go even warmer at that, a hot red blush spreading down my chest to my toes. Gripping his hand a little tighter, I try to loosen my muscles and shake out my nerves on the way to the lift, but I know that the only thing to cure nervousness is to just get it over and done with. The moment we meet, I'll probably feel fine all of a sudden. But right now, I'm bricking it.

When we reach the lobby, I blurt out, "What if she hates me?"

"Then she'll need her head testing. She's not going to hate you. God, March, don't get yourself all worked up." He laughs and squeezes my hand. "It's going to be absolutely fine. If it isn't, we'll leave. But it will be, because I know my sister. I promise."

"Ok."

"Yes. It will be." He leads us to the bus stop and perches on one of the awkward seats, and he turns me to face him, so he's holding both of my hands. "Repeat after me: supper with Meera is going to be absolutely fine."

"Supper with Meera is going to be absolutely fine."

"And we're going to have an amazing night afterwards."

My lips twitch into a grin. "We are?"

"Only if you repeat it after me," he says. "So?"

"We're going to have an amazing night afterwards." I ease closer to him and bend my neck to touch my forehead to his. "Sorry, I know it's stupid to be nervous."

"In general, no. But in this instance, yes." He pokes me, and I know he's only kidding. "One hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back."

"Are we still talking about supper? Or are you talking about the night with you?"

"Cheeky."

*

All the reassurance in the world wouldn't be able to stop me from feeling shaky with nerves as we approach the restaurant, which seems like more of a laid-back diner kind of place from what I can see. That helps a bit.

I spot Meera before Arjun does. I recognise her from the family photo he showed me. She's willowy, taller than me with her hair in a plait coiled into a bun, and – thank fuck – she's wearing shorts too. I had an image of a pencil skirt in my head for some reason, of a severe woman, but ... well, she looks like a female Arjun. If he was a little taller and a little slimmer, if he shaved and grew out his hair, they'd be twins.

I tug on his hand. He follows my line of sight and the moment his eyes land on his sister, he springs into action.

"Meera!" he calls out, one hand shooting up to wave her over. She snaps her head up and a huge grin pushes deep dimples into both cheeks, and she weaves her way over to us with all the expertise of a waitress with full hands.

"Arj!" She throws her arms around him, at least an inch or two taller even in flip-flops. "God, it's been forever. How the fuck are you?"

Ok, I think I might like her. Maybe there's nothing to be scared of.

"I'm good. I'm really good," he says. He turns to introduce me but Meera's eyes are already boring into mine, and she's still wearing her grin.

"So. You're the guy who's got my brother questioning his sexuality?"

Arjun chokes, his eyes bugging. Meera matches his expression.

"What? It's true, isn't it? And I can see why."

Well. Straight in there, I guess. I match her grin. "That's me. I'm March. It's nice to meet you. And ... thanks, I think?"

I stick out my hand, but she sidesteps it and greets me with a ferocious hug, as though we're old friends. A waft of her floral perfume fills my nostrils, one of those scents that throws me back to an indistinct memory of childhood.

"Sharmas are huggers," she says when she lets go of me. "Though I'm sure you already know that."

I think of every time Arjun touches me, his hands brushing my shoulder or my hair, his arms wrapped around me, and I nod. "I'm familiar."

Meera beams. "So, little birdie tells me my brother has a boyfriend, huh?" She nods at a table. "Come on, let's sit. I need all the details, right from the beginning." Her eyes lock onto mine and she says, "I want to know everything."

*

Meera, it turns out, is not terrifying. Who'd have thought? She's kind of intense, sure, but mostly just in an enthusiastic manner. Arjun and I tag-team the story of the past couple of weeks, from the moment we first met – he tells her that he had a good feeling the moment we were paired up as tent buddies – to all of our almosts, to the night of Never Have I ever and the sprained ankle at Yosemite, and the moment that Arjun leant in and stopped my heart.

Meera is enrapt. She doesn't interrupt as we trip over each other's words; she laughs when we go off on tangents, recounting irrelevant moments on the trip – although nothing feels irrelevant, not really. Every minute feels as though it mattered, as though each second was an invaluable snapshot of our time together.

"It sounds like an incredible trip," she muses, her chin in her hand, the other idly stirring her Coke with a biodegradable straw. "I'm so proud of you, Arjie. That must've been one hell of a decision, to come out here."

"It was," he says with a heavy sigh, "but it was more than worth it. God, think if I hadn't? If I was just moping about at home, bored and depressed about not getting into Cambridge?"

Meera sits straight. Confusion flashes her eyes, and dips into sorrow. "Oh. Oh, no. You didn't get in?"

"Nope. But it's fine. I'm going to St. Andrews, which is going to be amazing. It was clearly meant to be: I missed the grades twice, so that's the universe telling me that Cambridge isn't right for me."

"Listen to the universe," she says. "The universe brought you here; it brought the two of you together. She knows what she's doing, and if she doesn't think you belong at Cambridge, then you don't." Shaking her head to herself, she adds, "You'd be such a tiny plankton in such a huge ocean. You're right. St. Andrews will be good for you."

"Thanks, Meer."

"Have you told Mum and Baba?" She sips her Coke and loosens her posture. Arjun purses his lips and taps his fingers on the tabletop.

"I think that's a conversation best left until I'm home."

"Yeah. Yeah, it'll be fine." She shakes her hand with a loose wrist. "As long as you're happy."

He squeezes my knee under the table. "I'm very happy."

"You look it." Her eyes brighten when she smiles, and her gaze drifts across to me. "So. What are your intentions with my little brother?"

Arjun splutters but Meera's unfazed, even when I'm pretty sure he kicks her.

"I, uh..."

"He's one of my favourite people in the world," she says. "He's a great guy, if a sister can say that, and you seem like a great guy, too. I've questioned my brother's tastes in the past"—she glances at him, and I think of Taylor—"but he seems to have come to his senses. What's your dating history?"

"Meera!" Arjun cries out. "You can't ask that!"

"What? I'm just curious," she says with a shrug as she leans back in her seat, Coke in hand. She offered to buy us cocktails, but we figured it'd be better to stay on the safe, legal, sober side for the night.

"It's intrusive."

"That's my middle name. So, March. Are you a serial dater? A long-term guy?"

"You don't have to answer that," Arjun says. "Meera."

I laugh to myself. "It's fine. I ... a bit of both I think? I mean, I was with my ex-girlfriend for all of Year Eleven, and I was with my ex-boyfriend for all of Sixth Form. And now I'm with Arjun."

"Why'd you break up with your ex?"

"Which one?"

"March, seriously, you don't have to answer this," Arjun says. "Meera, this is an inappropriate and unnecessary line of questioning, and it's totally irrelevant."

She throws up her hands and cries out, "I'm just intrigued! Can't a girl be intrigued about the guy her brother's dating? Would you rather I ask outright, or that I do some serious deep-sea Facebook stalking?"

"I'd rather not be deep-sea stalked," I say, even though I'm sure she's already done it and I don't care that much. I have nothing to hide: my online life is pretty innocuous and, I hope, a lot less interesting than the real me.

So I tell her about Lily, and the complicated situation with our parents. Then I tell her about George, about falling for him and having my heart crushed by his years of lies. I tell her how Arjun encouraged me to come out to my parents, how he helped lift a weight off my shoulders that I didn't realise had been dragging me down.

At this point, she interjects. "I take it you haven't encouraged him to come out to our parents yet? I feel like I would've had a call from Mum by now if you'd told her that while you're out finding yourself in America, you found yourself a tasty piece of boy-meat."

"Ew. That's such a gross way of putting it," he says, wrinkling his nose. "No, I haven't told Mum and Baba yet. I think it'll be easier in person. There's too much potential for miscommunication if I tried to tell them over the phone." He laughs, so I know it's not too serious.

"It'll be fine," Meera says, catching my eye as she says that. "I've found, over the years, that our parents have proven to be more progressive than expected. I bet Mum's biggest concern will be how you've been eating while you're out here."

At that, our food arrives. At last. It's a busy evening and it's taken a good forty minutes since ordering, but I don't care the moment my plate arrives in front of me, a huge chicken burger dripping with cheese and streaky bacon and a mountain of fries.

"How have you been eating?" she asks, nodding at Arjun's halloumi burger and his virtual forest of side salad.

"Surprisingly well. It seems America is ok with vegetarianism," he jokes, sauce dripping down his chin when he bites into his burger.

The food is incredible. And, as Arjun predicted, Meera insisted before we even ordered that it was on her, and we should get whatever we wanted. I did attempt to fight that, but she's more stubborn than her brother and that battle was clearly going nowhere, so she paid and she ordered extra fries.

"How long're you out here?" I ask when I realise I'm so absorbed in my food that I haven't spoken for a while.

"I'm off to Seattle tomorrow, then up to Vancouver, over to Toronto, and back to New York," she says. "The perks of the job: I get to travel a lot, even if I don't have much time to enjoy the cities. It certainly suits my ADHD. But I made sure I could carve out some time for my baby bro."

From what I can gather, she's part of a publicity team for a publishing house and she's part of the tour support team for a couple of authors right now. She explained when I was eating, so some of it may have gone over my head and I didn't want to ask her to explain again because I was distracted by my chicken.

"Wow. Busy schedule."

"Yup. I love it, though. It keeps me on my feet. I'm no good at staying still." As she takes a huge bite, her phone rings and she rolls her eyes when she checks the caller. "Duty calls."

She swallows, answers the phone, and sashays outside. Arjun turns to me, his fork poised over his salad.

"So? How're you feeling?"

"I'm not nervous anymore," I say. "I like her. She's very ... no holds barred."

"I'm sorry about all the interrogating. She's ... yeah, that's just how she is. But you don't have to indulge her. She really doesn't need to know about George or Lily or anything like that, she's just being nosy."

"It's really fine. I like her, and I have nothing to hide." I shrug and give him a smile. "She's nothing like you, though. I mean, you look very similar, but you couldn't be more different."

"Right? We're chalk and cheese," he says. "She's very like Mum; I'm more my dad. You'll see, at some point."

That means meeting the parents. That's a lot more intense than meeting the sister in San Francisco, but I paste on a smile and nod. "Can't wait."

He grins and says, "You think that's convincing? You look like you just shit yourself. But, hey, that's for the future."

"What's for the future?" Meera asks when she returns, slipping back into her seat and going straight back to her food.

"None of your business. Everything ok?"

"Yup. But I can't stay much longer," she says, glancing at her watch. "Apparently I'm needed for a little crisis intervention. Part and parcel of working with divas." She rolls her eyes and sighs. "But it's been so good to see you. Both of you. Feels like a while since I've been home."

"Four months," Arjun says. I hear a slightly plaintive note in his voice; I see it in his eyes.

"I'll be back in two weeks, I promise." She casts her eyes around the table, at our food and our drinks, and seems to be adding it all up as she digs out her purse and roots through for money. As she finishes her final mouthful, she slaps down a hundred dollars on the table. "That'll cover it. Don't forget to tip. Keep the change; enjoy yourselves."

When she stands, we do too. Arjun gives her a tight hug and I know better now than to go in for a handshake. She pulls me in close and I feel her breath on my ear.

"I like you, March. I think you'll be good for him," she whispers, and then pulls away all bright smiles as though she never said a thing. "Right. I need to dash. But I'll be home in a fortnight, I promise. Bye, guys!"

She leaves the restaurant like a tornado that swept in here to eat and is whirling off someplace else, leaving us in her wake with more than enough to cover supper. Even with a generous tip, we've probably only spent about seventy bucks.

When we've finished and taken time to digest, Arjun counts out eighty dollars when he asks for the bill. Outside, he takes my hand and leads me away from the bus stop.

"Aren't we going back to the hotel?"

"Not yet," he says. "Our bus tickets are good for the night tour. Want to see the city in the dark?"

*

Driving across the Golden Gate bridge during the day was pretty magical, and it turns out driving along the waterfront at night is breathtaking. The route takes us to Nob Hill and Russian Hill, down to South Beach and over the bridge to Treasure Island, where we stop for photos of the city at night across the water. An Australian tourist takes a photo of Arjun and me standing with our backs to the city, bright lights bouncing off the water behind us, and another where the Golden Gate Bridge is just about visible in the background.

When we make it to the end of the route, at Fisherman's Wharf, I have stars in my eyes and a balloon in my chest. I feel like I could float right off the top deck of this bus, anchored only by Arjun's arm around me, keeping me warm once the sun's gone down. I could stay here all night.

But I won't, because there are other things I want to do tonight.

When we get off the bus and head over to wait for one that will take us to our hotel, Arjun pulls me against his chest and buries his nose in my hair, just above my ear.

"What was that for?" I ask when he lets me go, and I see a dreamy look on his face as he looks at me.

"Didn't you hear? Sharmas are huggers," he says, dropping his hands so they're clasped over the base of my spine. "Thanks for coming tonight, and for tolerating Meera."

"I enjoyed it," I say, losing my words to his lips. I spot our bus heading towards us and I flag it down, excitement building at the thought of ending the night in bed with my boyfriend. "It was a really good night."

"Mmm." Arjun slips an arm around my waist, fingers slipping under my t-shirt to graze my skin, and as the bus comes to a stop he says, "It's not over yet."

*

i hope you enjoyed this! so sorry for the delay - i was halfway through posting and somehow got incredibly distracted for a few hours.