Trinkets - Chapter 37: Chapter 37

When Mahika had stood back up and said, 'We should make a list', Amoli had only regarded her with muted amusement in return and assumed she was joking.
"Of what?" Amoli had asked, looking up and leaning into Mahika's touch when she had softly brushed away the wisps of hair on Amoli's forehead to tuck them behind her ear with such tenderness, Amoli almost let out the most embarrassing whine at the loss of warmth once Mahika pulled away. "People around me that might be homophobic?"
"No, the opposite, silly."
But it hadn't been a joke, apparently, and here they are a couple hours later in Mahika's room again, fleeing the dining table immediately after dinner with some lousy excuse thrown over their shoulders at their friends that Amoli can't even recall anymore.
She's also pretty sure Keerti was staring confusedly at their backs until the door shut behind the two of them, but Amoli's trying not to think too much about it. It's not that hard to forget about it anyway, in this room; adorned with Mahika's scent and her cherished mementos.
Barely two days in, Amoli has come to recognize the room as an oasis of comfort. Amid soft hues of warm beige washed over the walls and large windows standing tall behind delicate curtains, she feels surrounded by a gentle whisper of tranquility.
Or perhaps, it's not the sanctuary itself but the woman it envelopes in its soothing embrace every day.
"Okay, so..." Mahika starts, waving the two markers she's holding in either hand. "Green for people who you think would be chill with..." she trails off for a second, vaguely gesturing between herself and Amoli who is sitting on the bed and looking up at Mahika mirthfully, and eventually ends her sentence with, "Y'know. This."
"And what would 'this' be?" Amoli repeats just to mess with her, leaning back on the bed on her palms like she had the other night, except it reminds her of the words, 'When I do try to get you into bed, you'll know' and kisses so thorough they make the world transition into slow motion, so she quickly straightens back up before all thought abandons her.
"And red," Mahika adds a little louder, pointedly clearing her throat and ignoring Amoli's words to turn towards the whiteboard and write 'Naina' neatly on one side with green, successfully distracting Amoli from her own thoughts, "for people who might... not be." And then much to Amoli's surprise, Mahika ducks her head with a wry little smile and then scribbles Dhruv's name under Naina's. "We can start with people that already know."
Amoli feels her eyebrows shoot up, her mouth falling open in astonishment. "Wait, when did he —" She stops mid-sentence when a memory sneaks out of her subconscious, slipping inside her mind like a breeze through an open window. "Oh."
At Akash and Naina's farewell dinner, Amoli had missed Mahika's arrival because she was outside, in the middle of a call from one of her classmates. And when she had returned to find everyone in the room except Mahika, Dhruv had been the only person to notice her eyes curiously darting around, and put an end to her growing distress with a simple, 'Mahi's in the bathroom.' Amoli hadn't thought much of it at all back then. 'She said something about wanting to fix her hair.'
But now, staring at his name on the whiteboard in green after a few seconds of complete blankness, the only thing she can do is squeeze her eyes shut and tip her head back in embarrassment.
"Oh, God, he knew." She gives up and plops sideways on the bed with a thump, covering her face with her hands so she doesn't have to see the expression on Mahika's face. "When we were at the dinner. He knew, didn't he?"
"Yeah," Mahika says, the word barely above a whisper.
Amoli groans into her palms. "And here I thought I had to be extra subtle in front of him because he's one of your closest friends. I'm such an idiot."
Mahika's giggles echo around the room like a chorus of songbirds. "It's not your fault. You didn't know." Amoli hears her step closer to the bed only a second before there are dainty fingers carding through Amoli's hair, the tips grazing her scalp and sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. "I should have told you right away, I'm sorry."
"I really followed you right into the bathroom in front of him"
"To be fair, he hasn't said a word about it."
"About what, me following you into the bathroom?"
This time, the laugh Mahika lets out is more a delighted cackle than anything. "No, of course not! God. Wouldn't that be something? I meant about us." The hand that was carding through Amoli's hair reaches for her fingers to gently take them off her face before Mahika adds, "And he won't. I promise. I know him."
"No, I know, I —" Amoli knows that her eyes whisper serenity when she peers up at Mahika with their fingers finding the spaces between each others' with remarkable ease. "I'm not worried about it. I'm just..."
"Embarrassed?"
Amoli presses her lips together wryly. "Try mortified."
Mahika grins down at her before sitting down at the edge of the bed without taking her hands or eyes off Amoli's face. "I mean, on the embarrassment front, I think Naina knowing about us is far worse. She's been teasing me every chance she gets. The most Dhruv has done is joke about my mother's possible disappointment over him and I not ending up together."
Amoli's hold on Mahika's fingers gets a little loose, a little tentative at the words. She's heard this before, obviously, but she's never been able to garner enough courage to ask even though she knows the answer wouldn't change anything. "Oh, he — did you two —?"
"Oh, no," Mahika says immediately, breathing out a laugh like she finds the mere idea impossibly funny. Amoli holds Mahika's hand to her chest, absentmindedly tracing the shape of her nails with her thumb. "When mom first joked about it, I did think for a bit... like, if not him, then who, you know? He's perfect, he really is. But he isn't —"
"A woman?"
Mahika presses her lips together for a moment, looking almost abashed about her little ramble. But then she turns her head away and mumbles, "I was about to say he isn't you, but I suppose that works as well."
The heat begins at the tips of Amoli's ears and quickly spreads down to her cheeks. She rolls away from Mahika to bury her face into the mattress, whining out a muffled, "Shut up, you were not." The warmth continues to creep up, like a wave rising higher and higher until it reaches her hairline.
"Yeah, I wasn't." Mahika chuckles softly, and Amoli can tell even without looking that her eyes are crinkled with gentle humor from how much she's enjoying this. "But I knew you'd react like this, so I had to."
Amoli grumbles unintelligibly, and then mutters a half-hearted, "Just go back to your stupid board," even though she misses the gentle, reassuring touch of Mahika's fingers in her hair already.
It's something Amoli has noticed only recently, how she finds herself yearning for these moments, eagerly awaiting the subtle, soothing stroke of Mahika's nimble fingers against her skin.
This newfound intimacy has quickly become a safe haven from the chaos of the world for Amoli, and she's just a little bird that took flight for the first time; the sensation of soaring through the air, exhilarating and freeing. She doesn't want to come back to the ground.
"I don't think we need to contemplate Keerti and Sakshi's reaction too much either," Mahika says, oblivious to Amoli's mental tug-of-war, and Amoli lifts her head to rest her chin on her folded arms so she can watch the other girl add two more names to the board in green.
Pushing down the longing surging up her throat, she murmurs, "Samay?"
Mahika makes another addition in green at once. "Also safe. Nothing really fazes him, honestly." She seems to consider something for a moment, and then says, "And that reminds me to make another addition," and pauses to meet Amoli's eyes. "Your brother."
Amoli's heart stutters to a stop.
She knows that neither Akash nor Arnav would ever make her feel like she has to live in hiding, but being aware of that in theory and considering telling them that she's romantically involved with another woman are two very different things inside her head. Poles apart. Worlds apart. They belong to different spheres.
"You — they... what? Akash? Did he say something?"
"Arnav," Mahika corrects softly, and then her lips pull back in a half-smile that fuels the yearning in Amoli's chest all over again. "Your little brother's quite the ally."
"He... is?"
Mahika nods, and lets out a hum before she leans back against her desk. "When he was driving us back from Gaigar, something about me being really secretive about my relationships came up — anyway, it was nothing but they were joking about how I probably hide all my 'boyfriends'," Mahika highlights the word with a roll of her eyes and bunny ears in the air, and Amoli lets out a laugh despite how nervous she feels about whatever's coming next, "and he said something about how assuming everyone's straight is a form of discrimination and I freaked out."
Amoli feels her mouth drop open in genuine shock, eyes growing larger at the unexpected revelation.
When she manages to unfreeze her features for a single moment, the only word that makes it out is a high-pitched, "What?"
"Yeah," Mahika says, giving a short nod. "Yep. I reacted the exact same way on the inside."
Amoli rolls onto her back and sits up, because for some reason her brain says that this is definitely a sit-up conversation. Her fingers automatically make their way into her hair, and she resists pulling at it in restlessness as she purses her lips and lets out a long-drawn breath.
"God. He probably knows." The thought makes her stomach curl uncomfortably, and she has to remind herself that her little brother knowing about her relationship doesn't put her in any sort of danger. It's hard, though, because getting anxious about people knowing is almost a deeply-buried instinct in her at this point. "Nobody says that unless they're hinting at something, right? No way he'd say that if he doesn't know."
Mahika absentmindedly pushes her nail under the clip of the marker and pulls it upward before letting it go to make a sharp click sound as she looks at Amoli. She clears her throat and finally, carefully says, "Or... maybe he's, you know." She raises her hands in the air like it's supposed to make sense on its own. "Queer as well."
Amoli is taken off guard once again, but before she can say anything, Mahika speaks again.
"I'm no expert, obviously." The corners of Mahika's lips twitch upwards like she's aware of how stupid that joke is, which in turn, makes Amoli's lips quirk in amusement as well. "But let's be real here, Amo. No straight person says that shit unprompted." Amoli dissolves into giggles when Mahika holds both her hands forward and repeats, "Again, no expert by any means, but..."
"Just experienced enough to be able to tell that my little brother might be gay?"
Mahika takes the cap off of the green marker and chucks it at Amoli. It bops off her thigh and lands on the edge of the bed. "Shut up! I didn't say — and experienced might be the wrong word, okay —"
Amoli picks up the cap and sticks her pinkie inside it before holding it up for Mahika to take. "Gaydar too strong."
"Oh, my God." Mahika swipes the little piece of plastic off her finger and caps the marker again, plopping down on the bed with an exaggerated sigh. "Please don't say the word 'gaydar' ever again."
Amoli sniffs haughtily and grabs her phone off the side to pull up a thesaurus. It takes her less than two seconds to find exactly what she's looking for. "Professional. Skilled. Seasoned. A veteran —"
Mahika falls back with an emphasized groan, head beside Amoli's knee. "No way, we're backtracking a bit because I never want to hear the words 'seasoned' and 'queer' under the same context ever again."
Amoli dodges a playful shove from Mahika in an attempt to smack the phone out of her hands, and wraps her fingers around Mahika's wrist to hold it down in retaliation after. "I don't know, Mahi, I personally think that 'seasoned sapphic' has a nice ring to it, almost."
"I hate you." The laugh that follows the words eases the brunt of the words a bit too much for them to sting. "Like, I actually fucking hate you right now."
Amoli leans further away with a cackle when Mahika tries to flick her phone out of her hands again and fails again. "Highbrow homo."
"I regret this."
"Qualified queer."
"I regret everything single thing about this."
"Longtime les—"
"Stop right there before I bite you."
The corners of Amoli's lips curl upwards, aware of the precise moment that Mahika notices the trove of witty retorts glinting in her eyes and nudges Amoli's thigh with the marker before the clever quip can make its way out.
Amoli only lets the mischief on her face flourish even as Mahika narrows her eyes and mouths, Don't.
It doesn't faze Amoli in the slightest. "Is that a threat or an offer?"
Mahika regards her with a touch of wryness, like she knew it was coming. She probably did. A subtle sort of playfulness mingles with her expression soon enough, though, and the second Amoli spots the knowing smile on Mahika's face, she knows she's about to be knocked down a peg.
"You'd probably enjoy it either way, so does it really matter?"
The gasp that leaves Amoli is instantaneous. "What?" she squeaks. "What the hell does that mean —"
"Oh, that memory hasn't come back?" Mahika sounds absolutely delighted about that for some reason, and Amoli regards her with wide, horrified eyes when Mahika comfortably rolls onto her stomach and looks up at Amoli like she's getting ready to recite her favorite story. "That's fine, I can refresh it for you. Do you want me to start with the marks you left on my neck or the —"
Amoli slaps her hands over her ears. "Okay!" she interrupts in a voice so high-pitched that it borders on a whine. "I get it. Nope. Don't tell me. You win. I don't wanna know."
"That's what I thought," Mahika says with a laugh. "Now, do you wanna continue being a little shit and make me tell you about all the makeup I had to use to cover up that day, or do you wanna come here and let me hold you for a bit before we get to the... less fun part of the list?"
The choice is made inside Amoli's head even before Mahika finishes her sentence, and she tosses her phone aside somewhere on the bed before laying on her back beside Mahika.
Besides, who is she to deny herself the wave of serenity that washes over her the second Mahika's fingers find Amoli's forehead in a feather-light touch? The tender strokes against her temple? The delicate pressure between her eyebrows?
Amoli closes her eyes and surrenders herself to the sensation when the same fingers weave through her hair, fingertips moving effortlessly, massaging her scalp in a rhythmic pattern.
"'Less fun' is a very generous way to put it," she mumbles without opening her eyes in an attempt to make a joke, but she knows that they both feel the burden of the vulnerability that lies ahead.
The weight of internalized doubts, nurtured by a world that still whispers its disapproval holds Amoli captive.
The fear of rejection seeps into every pore of her body, gripping her tightly and refusing to let go. A cacophony of thoughts always races through her mind — what if her brothers, despite their open-mindedness, didn't understand? What if someone questioned the validity of her identity?
Images of worst-case scenarios flash through her mind like a relentless slideshow. She imagines her parents recoiling in shock, their expressions contorting into masks of disappointment.
And there's something else, too. Something deeper; something that intensifies her fear tenfold.
It's the fear of her own vulnerability, of exposing the most intimate part of herself to scrutiny and judgment. It's the fear of standing before other people that know, stripped of the protective armor of conformity, her true self laid bare.
A lifetime of societal messages whispering about her otherness, labeling her identity as something to be hidden, seeps into Amoli's consciousness for the hundredth time. The fear isn't just about how her family would react; it's also about how she perceives herself some days. On bad days. The echoes of internalized prejudice, insidious and persistent, reverberate through her thoughts, questioning the validity of her own identity.
Tears well up in her eyes, an emotional torrent that threatens to unleash the floodgates of her vulnerability. The heaviness of the secret she has carried for so long, the weight of the fear and doubt, presses down on her shoulders, threatening to consume her whole.
"I guess it is," Mahika whispers, and Amoli opens her eyes when she feels Mahika's chin dig into her shoulder. When Amoli turns to look at her, Mahika's knuckles slide across Amoli's jaw before tracing the curve of her cheek like she's trying to memorize every contour and crevice.
Mahika smiles at her, and the world fades away. "But I think we can afford to be a little generous when we know that if it comes down to the worst, most people we love will stand with us."