“You look simply incredible,” Omkar said from the doorway. Seeing Aria in the clothes that the women from his culture traditionally wore made something churn inside him. Maybe it enhanced his sense of ownership. In the Western world, own had become a dirty word when it came to other people, especially women. It meant to have complete power over someone else and to control them. But Omkar understood what many men did not: that to exert power and control over another person was the complete opposite of true ownership. “Own people,” his father had told him so many times when he had not been acting responsibly enough toward them. To Omkar, to love something was to take it as a part of himself. And doing so automatically meant it belonged with him and to him and so it was his to take responsibility for. With this kind of ownership, he could not hurt the person who belonged to him without hurting himself. He could not oppose their best interests without opposing his own. With this true ownership, the best interests of Aria were his primary concern.

Though reluctant to accept the gift that Jarminder had given her, Aria walked downstairs to her room wearing it. She unpinned the fabric and unwove it, folding it back into an untidy square. Dressing back into her common street clothes felt strangely degrading.

Omkar knocked on the door of her room and let himself in. “Hey, can you take a cab and meet me today at Griffith Park when I get off of school, around like 5:30 or six o’clock?” He put $50 down on the bed beside her.

“Jesus Christ, Omkar … I can just take the bus there. You want me to take a cab that costs fifty bucks?” she yelled.

Omkar took the money and placed it in her hands instead. “Look, can you just do it for me today, just this one day, just go along with it? It’s probably going to be rush-hour traffic and so they charge more. If not you can just keep the rest.”

Aria rolled her eyes at him. “OK, are you gonna tell me why I have to drive all the way across the city?” she asked.

“Because I have a party to go to near there. It’s kind of a cocktail party and we can bring a date to it. I want you to come as my date,” Omkar said. Aria furrowed her brow with confusion.

“OK … Well, did it occur to you that I don’t have anything to wear to something like that? Unless you want me to show up in camo pants?” she retorted.

“Good point. Here,” Omkar said, pulling another $50 bill out of his wallet and putting it in her hand as well.

“Seriously, this is ridiculous,” Aria said, trying to give it back to him.