Page 25 of The Kat Bunglar

What do I do? Oh, something Strange is Happening

“Oh, it’s a shame that Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol never married? Have you ever seen a lovelier couple?” Kat’s mother chomped on chana chur (fried lentil chips) as the soundtrack to her life played in the background. Kat could see the misty look in her mother’s eyes—nostalgic over a long-lost love that had never existed in her youth. Every Bengali mother had a man theyshouldhave married, but instead, they got stuck with the husband theyhad.

“Abu, you didn’t have to take us back to Chicago,” Kat said to her father for the hundredth time. “We could have taken the bus.”

“Nonsense. Do you know what kind of people take the bus?” her father grumbled.

“The kind that don’t have cars,” Kat deadpanned.

“Good-for-nothing hooligans. They spit on the sidewalk. They spitinthe bus. God only knows what kind of bacteria you’d be sitting on. You’d get out of the busfive months pregnant.”

“That’s not how buses work, Abu,” Kat protested.

“Iknowhow buses work. I’ve been on this earth a lot longer than you, Kat.Youdon’t tellmehow buses work.Itellyouhow buses work.”

Her father shot her a glare in the rearview mirror before turning his attention back to the road.

Kat’s mother chimed in, turning to Christian. “And how are you, Christian? Do you want a snack? Do you need a bathroom break?”

Christian smiled sweetly. “I’m fine, Mrs. Kar. Thank you for asking.”

“Oh, girls, we have a little surprise for you.” Her mother grinned coyly. “We decided to rent an Airbnb for the weekend. A little holiday before you head back to Los Angeles.”

Kat’s mouth dropped open.

“Ma, we’re leavingtonight. As soon as possible. Wecan’tstay.”

“Nonsense. It’s been two years since you’ve come home! And we’venevervisited the Chicago Bean. Haven’t you always wanted to see yourself reflected in abackwardkind of way?”

Kat’s mother lookedsopleased with herself for knowing a tourist spot.

Christian shot Kat apanickedlook.

“Dude,” Christian whispered under her breath. “We are so epicallyfudged.”

This was why Kat could never succeed in life: her parents were always in the way.

In high school, every time she had wanted to join a club or get a job, they had found some vague reason to say no—her safety, the long hours,unsavorypeople. It had resulted in her goingnowhereand doingnothing.

And now?

Now, they were getting in the way of hercat-burglingexploits.

She hadpackeda special outfit for the occasion. She hadvisionsof herself gracefully flipping in through a window, her hair billowing in the wind—

“Arraaay,chutiya! Bloody idiot! Mother of a pig!Bastard!”

Kat lurched forward as the carjerkedviolently to the side of the road.

“What happened?” her mother shrieked.

“It’s the bloody radiator!” her father announced. “I moved the tubes to the wheel rotor, butclearly, the ties didn’t hold like they were supposed to. And now the radio antennae are all flummoxed up.”

Her father may have been achemical engineer, but he hadabsolutelyno idea how cars worked.

“Let me callTriple A,” he grumbled. “We will need to tow this thing back home, no?”

Kat’s palms began to sweat.

---