But there just seemed to be so much indestructible energy in this arena—so much voluntary and deliberate exposure to pain—that I was convinced: if any people were my people, these were them. If I was going to join a team, it might as well be a team of people as dedicated to bruising as I was. And to my relief, this team greeted me back with friendly waves. I let my shoulders ease back down for now.

“Daya, the Honeys. Honey bitches, Daya.” She turned to me and asked, “Pronouns?”

“Oh, uh—she/her.”

To the group, Kat announced, “She’s gonna try out!”

“Hey, Daya.”

“Hey, girl.”

“ ’Sup, Daya.”

I gave them head nods and “heys” in return and forced myself to add, “You all looked effing awesome out there.”

A few of them replied, “Thanks,” and one girl—built like a Mack truck—asked, “So you wanna roll with us, hey?”

I glanced at Kat and replied, “Yeah. I do.” Kat grinned and punched me in the other arm.

It hurt. I could tell that this girl was my kind of tough and I loved it.

Amma hadn’t appreciated toughness the way Thatha and I did. I’d always held it against her, I guess. “Aren’t you being a little too hard on her, Nihal? I don’t like all this punching and hitting.”

“What? You want her to be soft? Where will that get her here?”

I’d been standing by the front door when I heard this argument between my parents—Amma’s voice floating wearily from the kitchen, while Thatha made no attempt to keep his opinions quiet. It hadn’t been the first time I’d heard them clash over this particular topic.

“She doesn’t have to do all this boxing to do well, Nihal.” My mother’s words already sounded defeated, as usual. She gave up so easily.

“She needs to learn to stand her ground. To not let anyone get to her, Sunita. Fighting in the ring will teach her that. You know we have to work twice as hard. Be twice as strong. What—you want her flouncing around like Priam and Vicki instead?”

This was one of Thatha’s tactics—bringing up Priam and Vicki always shut Amma down. If it weren’t for Thatha, Priam wouldn’t be where he is now, living his so-called “dream.” Bringing them up was a reminder of this, of how Thatha’s strength and determination—his willingness to deal with bullshit—made it possible for all of us to live here and do as we pleased.

Amma would generally concede at this point. And even though I thought she was right to, part of me wished she was tougher. That she’d stand her own ground for once.

Chapter Twelve