From Twinkle, with Love
Page 47

Finally, during a commercial break, I muted the TV. “Kya hua, Dadi? I can tell you want to ask me something.”
“Beta,” she said. “I require your assistance in a most urgent task.”
Uh-oh. Dadi only talked like that, all formal and stuff, when she was cooking up some cockamamie plan that would usually end up with something valuable broken. (Once it was her little toe.)
“Uh-huh,” I said, waiting.
“Twinkle, Chandrashekhar has informed me that all is not well within your soul.”
I glanced at Oso, who side-eyed me suspiciously from his dog bed and then put his head back down with a snuffle.
“He did?”
“Yes. And I feel that in order for you to feel more peaceful, we must look into your future.”
I studied Dadi’s clear, eager eyes. “My future?”
“Yes. Perhaps if we find some answers, you’ll be able to rest more easily, hmm?”
“I guess. I mean, I do have Midsummer Night tomorrow, and …” I stopped before I could tell her the entire saga with Maddie and Sahil and everything. A girl needed to preserve some mystery, even from her omniscient Dadi.
“Exactly.” Dadi beamed, patted my thigh, and then stood. “Come on,” she said, bustling off.
With a sigh, I stood and followed her to her room.
Dadi’s laundry closet/room was just big enough for a cot and a table. On that table, I saw, was a gigantic wooden bowl full of water.
“Help me, beta,” she said, and then proceeded to lift the wooden bowl. It looked heavier than Dadi; I didn’t see this ending well. Between the two of us, we managed to lift the thing up and then Dadi began to guide me out into the hallway again.
“Where are we going?” I grunted, walking backward. My arm muscles were already aching with the effort of carrying the bowl and we’d gone maybe four steps. I should start doing push-ups in my room after school or something.
Dadi smiled. She looked like she was carrying a ball of cotton candy the way she was beaming. “Just to the kitchen table.”
Great. I tried to keep my face neutral as I walked down the hallway through the living room and to the kitchen, all backward. It was the first time I was happy we had such a tiny house.
I helped Dadi set the bowl on the table, and then we both sat in chairs across from each other. Oso took his spot by Dadi’s feet. I looked at her over the top of the bowl, massaging my biceps. “So, now what?”
Dadi reached for a small white candle and a box of matches, which she’d already set on the table. “Now we scry.” She held them out to me.
“Light it?” I asked, curious in spite of myself. Whatever you thought of Dadi’s “experiments,” they were never boring.
She nodded. I lit the match and it sizzled to life, the burnt sulfur smell singeing my nostrils. I lit the candle next; the flame danced in Dadi’s brown eyes. A twinging excitement worked its way into my belly. There was so much in my life I wanted to know the endings to right now.
“Now turn the candle sideways so the wick is directly above the water, beta. Then let the drops of wax fall into the water until you feel like stopping.”
“Okay.” Biting my lip, I pivoted the candle gingerly on its side and watched as one drop of wax after another plopped onto the surface. The wax hardened immediately, floating on the surface. I kept going until a big wax piece had coalesced in the center of the bowl. I blew out the candle and looked at Dadi.
She nodded, her face solemn. “Now, pick up that big chunk and look at it. Tell me what you see.”
I did as she asked, the cold water dripping off the tips of my fingers and running down my wrist. The wax was thin and cold, and I flipped it over and over in my hand, thinking. “It looks like an archipelago: lots of islands clustered together, almost holding hands.” I tilted my head and squinted. “And there’s a heart shape here in the center, but it’s got little fissures in it.” Looking back up at Dadi, I smiled, feeling a tad embarrassed. “How’d I do?”
Her answering smile was soft and loving. “Beautifully, munni. Just beautifully.”
I set the wax piece down carefully on the table and wiped my hands on my jeans. “So … what does it mean that I saw those things?” My heart pounded; I was more nervous than I had thought I’d be. I didn’t really believe that Dadi could see the future … but I didn’t really not believe it either.
Dadi put a finger to her chin. “Hmm … The archipelago makes me think of travel. Perhaps you’ll be seeing the world soon. And the heart with little cracks in it … Perhaps you feel you’re giving away pieces of your heart?”
“But if this is telling the future, does it mean that I’m going to have my heart broken?” My mouth went a little dry at the thought. I mean, my heart was already pretty much in smithereens. How much worse could it get? Actually, Universe, forget I asked that question. Okay? I do not want to know.
“Only time will tell,” Dadi said, looking steadily at me. “We must embrace the good with the bad.”
So there you have it: I’ll travel and have my already-broken heart pulverized, maybe. Or maybe this is all just crap. Who can say?
Oh God. Why did I even agree to do the stupid film in the first place? I am so not in a film-festival mood right now. I just want to burrow under the covers on my bed and stay there until the new millennium. Is that too much to ask?
Love,
Twinkle
Friday, June 26
Vic’s car

Dear Haifaa al-Mansour, The burrowing plan didn’t last too long. I was ensconced in my covers and had just unwrapped the first Peanut Butter Cup I’d pilfered from the kitchen when I heard the doorbell ring. I poked my head out from under the covers, my heart thundering. Was it Sahil? Maddie? But then Dadi walked in and told me it was “that girl who looks like her head’s on fire.”
Victoria Lyons.
I scrambled out of bed, wiped the chocolate off my hands, finger-combed my hair (I mean, I am still her director, come on), and walked out. Sure enough, Victoria stood there, all statuesque and tall, her big red hair looking especially shiny. She noticed me staring. “You like?” she asked, patting the crown of her head. “I asked my stylist to use this new snail slime treatment I read about in Vogue. They only use it in Japan right now, but …”
“Snail … slime?”
“Yeah.” Her green eyes were humorless. “It’s great for your hair. And supposedly it’s good for your pores, too.”
“Right.” I folded my arms across my chest. I didn’t need snail slime in my hair; I already had it smeared across my life. “So. What’s, um, up?”
She shrugged and walked over to my couch, where she sat down in a flounce of her retro circle skirt, putting her wedge-clad feet on my coffee table. “I was worried about you. You left the party all weird yesterday, and I saw you moping around at school today looking pathetic. What’s going on? Does this have to do with the mysterious boy you were getting all vamped up to see that one night?”
I saw Dadi straighten at her cutting board in the kitchen. She was stress cooking because she knew I was upset and wouldn’t talk to her about it. “Um, do you want to go to my room?” I asked Victoria, nodding my head at Dadi’s back.
“Oh, sure.” She stood up and walked off, like she owned the place.
Sighing, I followed her.
Once we were safely ensconced in my room (Victoria sat on my wobbly computer chair and squealed, “I love how authentically rickety things are in your house!” which I’m pretty sure she meant as a compliment?), I grabbed a pillow to my chest. “Thanks for coming over to check on me. That’s so nice of you.”
“Duh,” Victoria said, picking up my change jar and looking at it interestedly. She probably had never seen pennies before, having dealt only in Benjamins. “It’s what friends do. So, tell me what happened at the party last night.”
I blew out a breath. “Ugh. Where do I even start? Okay, so Maddie and I had a fight. I mean, I tried to apologize to her for blowing up at your house that one night. When I yelled at Lewis and everyone?”