As we neared the living room, I made a face. I didn’t want to go back there.

‘What?’ he asked when he saw me hesitate.

‘Nothing,’ I said.

I could hear Papa’s voice—he must have come back from work. It felt like my house was full of people—and I was still so alone inside.

‘Hey, my friends want to go for a movie this weekend. Want to come along?’ I blurted out.

His screwed his eyes shut and pretended to think about it deeply for a few seconds. I almost laughed at the face he made.

‘Ya, sure! Why not?’ he said.

Strange things were happening to my stomach. Raghu wasn’t just cute. He was something else altogether.

14

We went out for dinner that night—all of us. Papa insisted on it because the doctor said Ma should move around a bit, but with caution.

He clapped Raghu on the back too hard a couple of times. Raghu grimaced at me, his eyes watering in pain. I smiled back. Ma locked the house and we piled into the car.

‘When did this boy grow so tall, Veena?’ Papa asked Aunty V.

‘Uncle, can I drive?’ Raghu asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

Papa snorted but glanced over at Aunty V who shrugged. Papa looked at Ma, and then found the perfect excuse not to give his beloved car to Raghu to drive.

‘Maybe next time? Since this is Chitra’s first time out, we have to be careful while driving with her . . . and you know how bad Bangalore’s roads are,’ Papa said slowly.

Raghu nodded in a good-natured manner but winked at me. I grinned back at him, realizing that in just a few hours, Raghu had made me laugh and grin a lot. I felt I could be free of my thoughts and all the things that bogged me down for at least one night.

I should have known that it wouldn’t last.

At the restaurant, Raghu cocked his head just the slightest bit at me. ‘You look different,’ he said softly. Our parents didn’t hear us and I was glad.

I smiled as I sat down, trying not to think too much about why I’d taken extra care with my appearance today—though I was wearing my usual jeans and a top. How I wished to be that final version of Ananya already—skinny, with thin arms and a thigh gap. I knew that the tyres around my body had reduced, and I was not fat, but what people like my father and well-meaning relatives fondly called ‘healthy’. In my head though, I would always be Fat Ananya.

Though there was an empty chair next to his mother’s, Raghu sat down opposite me.

He stared at me for a moment. ‘It’s been years since we actually spoke,’ he said.