Page 51 of Writing Mr. Right

“When did you turn into a downer?” I say as I finish another lap around the fountain, my steps packing down the layer of snow. “I’m having a good time. Have a good time with me.”

“But you could slip!” Aashiq says as he tries to keep up with me. “And get hurt!”

“One thing you need to know about being human, Aashiq…” I do the shuffle, and then the wave. “It’s that getting hurt is possible no matter what you do. You could walk across the street and get hit by a car. You could step onto an elevator and have it plunge all the way to the bottom. You could burn yourself making tea.” I do a little spin. “My point is anything you do can result in pain. But do you stop going out? Do you stop living?” I pause, then turn to face him. He comes screeching to a stop and stares expectantly at me. A grin spreads on my cheeks. “You more than anyone has taught me there’s more to life than just the four walls of your office and your living room.” I run a hand through my now-damp hair. “I mean, I wake up at five a.m. now and go forruns. I get to see how beautiful the sunrise is and remember to be thankful I get to see it because not everybody does. I cook a good breakfast and a hearty dinner, and it’s not even a disaster! I take walks in the evening after work and enjoy it.” I throw my arms out to the side as snow continues to flurry around me. “I even think to be grateful for thesnow, which I would never have thought last year.” I slowly lower my arms. “I see the world and all of its shades so differently now, and that’s because of you.”

Aashiq blinks a couple of times. His eyes glisten, but then he smiles. “Okay, okay,” he relents. He holds out a hand. “But would you please come down from the fountain? You’re making me uneasy. I swear you’re going to twist your ankle.”

I huff but place my palm on top of his. He wraps his fingersaround me, and just as he pulls me forward, I slap my other hand onto his wrist and yank back with all my strength.

I don’t know why I thought he would instinctively jump up onto the ledge, but of course he doesn’t—instead, his shins hit the sides of the fountain. He pitches forward, flailing, and at the last second, he slings his arms around my torso. Unfortunately, that does nothing to stop him from falling, and he continues onward. My hands smack on top of his shoulder blades, and in a mess of entangled limbs, we fall into the fountain together.

The water may appear the same as Aashiq’s eyes, but it definitely doesn’t have any of his warmth. The freezing temperature sinks right into my bones and seeps through my many layers of clothing. Pain scatters along my nerves; it’s like a million tiny knives pricking my skin. The water turns the material of my jacket heavy, sinking me into the shallow pool. Also keeping me plastered to the floor is Aashiq, whose body covers my own. By some miracle, neither of us hit our heads on the concrete, so besides the frigid breeze and the water bringing our body heat down, we’re fine.

Aashiq finally gains his bearing and realizes he’s on top of me. The last time we were this close was the first time he woke me up to go for a run, but back then we were still separated by my blanket. This time, I can feel all of him, and even though I’m submerged in cold water, a searing heat flares through my chest.

Aashiq blinks a couple of times, but he makes no move to get up. His eyes flicker down to my lips, and my stomach clenches at the action. He shivers, though I don’t think it has anything to do with the temperature. A tenderness I’ve never seen before sweeps across his face, and for some reason it breaks my heart. I’m sure he’s never looked at any other woman like this (because he’s obviously never had the opportunity to), but I’m also sure I’ve never been looked at by a man like this before. Like he can’t quite believe I’m real, even though he’s the onewho technically isn’t. He leans in, and with each inch closer, my throat tightens up.

Just as I think,Screw it, I’ll do this myself, and move to close the gap between us, Aashiq abruptly sits up. He gets off me, and immediately I miss his warmth. I lie there for a second as he rests his back against the body of the fountain, then place my hands on the floor.

Something rough and slippery digs into my palms, and after a second of trying to push myself up into a sitting position, I realize it’s coins, tossed by people who believe in magic. I push all the way until I’m upright. The spray from the birdbath sprinkles onto my head. I shift to the side to avoid the falling water, then finally manage a glance at Aashiq.

He keeps his gaze firmly in front of him. Red fills his cheeks, the shift in color recognizable even in the dark. He wraps his arms around his knees, locking his fingers together. His shoulders shiver, and I know he must be extremely uncomfortable because he doesn’t like the cold. After a second of us sitting in silence, Aashiq sucks in a deep breath. When he turns back to me, it’s with his regular smile, though I can see the way he struggles to keep it up. Even though I’m usually happy to see his smile, this time it slices my heart. “I told you,” he says, his tone easygoing even though his teeth chatter. “You could get hurt.”

I swallow thickly. “Yeah. You were right.”

A tense moment passes, but then I plaster on a smirk of my own. I cup some water into my palm, then splash it in his direction. “But I still know how to have fun!”

The tense line in Aashiq’s shoulders relaxes, and his face melts into something more natural. He tosses water back at me, and I giggle as I flip around and pull myself to my feet. I hear him emerge from the water behind me, but I’ve already started running around the fountain. I pause briefly to grab some snow, figuring my hands can’t get colder than they alreadyare, and I make it into a ball before twisting my torso and tossing it toward him.

“Agh!” Aashiq exclaims, and my laughter grows stronger as I keep running. I peek behind me to see how close he is, but to my surprise he’s no longer chasing after me. I frown and barely have the time to turn back around before Aashiq’s arms slink around my waist. He lifts me up, my feet dangling in the air. A sharp breeze slips through my soaked shoes, nipping at my toes.

“Ahh!” I yell, but I’m laughing too hard to be upset. I squirm in his grip and turn so my arm presses into his ribs.

“Have you had enough?” he puffs.

I bend forward and snatch more snow in my hands. I twist around, then reach up and smoosh it against his cheek. Aashiq flinches and abruptly lets me go. “Never!” I cackle. I stumble back, grabbing onto the birdbath to maintain my balance. Once I’m steady, I take off, and we begin our back-and-forth again. I swear I hear the tune of “I’ll Be There for You” buzzing in my head, and either I’m imagining it or Aashiq is using his powers to do this for me, but I think it’s on track to becoming my favorite song ever.

And even though I’m soaking wet, even though my skin has gone so numb I’m not sure if the feeling will ever return, and even though I’m developing complicated feelings for a person with whom it can never work out, it’s in this moment I finally start to realize what it means to have fun.

24

Every December, the hospital Emily works at throws a gala. It’s supposed to be a holiday party for the staff, but it’s really about the major donors of the hospital. Not only is it a way to make them feel good about themselves by letting them rub shoulders with the doctors whose work and research they’re funding, it’s also an opportunity for the staff to squeeze more money out of them before the new year starts. I don’t know how relaxing the party can be for the employees if they’re meant to be sucking up to a bunch of rich people, but regardless, it’s a chance to dress up. Typically, Daniel attends with Emily, but he has to work late again.

“Really?” I say. I lift my head up from my notebook, where I’ve been outlining character sheets for both Junaid and Manahil. “I thought the gala was supposed to make up for the fact he completely missed the double date.”

Emily, from her spot in the kitchen where she’s washing her dinner dishes, drops a clean pot a little too aggressively onto the drying rack. “It was supposed to,” she grits, “but he says this is a business dinner he absolutely can’t get out of.”

“In fairness to him, the holidays are a busy time of the year,” I point out.

“Not for accountants,” she retorts. “It’s not like it’s tax season. But he said he can’t blow it off, so there’s nothing I can do.”

“You could go to the dinner with him,” Aashiq pipes up from behind the couch. I dropped my pen cap earlier, and it rolled underneath the couch. Aashiq bent down to get it for me, but when he spotted the number of dust bunnies, he grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and a duster and got to work. I tried to tell him he could just leave it, but there’s no stopping him when he gets on a cleaning spree.

“She has to go to her own event, remember?” I say to him, peeking over my shoulder. He’s on his hands and knees, scrubbing away. “That’s the dilemma.”

“Oh. Right,” he says. “Can’t you go alone?”

“I mean, I guess I could,” Emily replies. She turns off the tap and wipes her hands on the towel hanging from the oven handle. “But I don’t want to. I’m not great at telling mediocre white men how wonderful they are for donating millions they won’t miss to help people who are likely going to end up drowning in debt anyway.” She pivots and leans against the counter. “My focus is on patient care. I don’t have much taste for administrative stuff, which is basically what this is, no matter how much my boss tells me it’s not. Because Daniel is a finance guy, he’s good at the business side of discussions, and he usually keeps me calm at the gala.” Air huffs out of her mouth. “I have no idea what I’m going to do by myself.”

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