Page 31 of I'm Not Done with You Yet

“Oops, sorry about that,” Ani laughs, not sounding at all sorry. She steps over the seats toward the end of the boat, where I’m perched. “C’mere, give me that paddle thingy. You can’t do it, Koko, on account of your heart.”

I glance at Ivan and he shrugs. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are,” Ani says.

She’s tipsy, well on her way to being drunk, and it’s not even noon yet. I look down at her and the plan forms, quick and easy, so obvious that I wonder why it didn’t hit me sooner. I should get Ani drunk. So drunk that I have to escort her back to Downing, leaving Thalia and Ivan alone. Yay me, world’s number one wingwoman.

I hand her the oar and sit down. Thalia meets my eye and gives me a quick smile, and I live for these moments, these little shared sparks between us that tell me our minds are in sync.

“Thanks for manning the oar like a champ, Jane,” Ivan says, pouring champagne into a new glass and handing it to me. Our fingers brush as I take it and my stomach lurches. Revulsion and a guilty little coil of attraction. He holds my eye a second too long. I don’t quite understand what the hell’s going on. Why he would even notice my existence when Thalia is right there. I am a star and Thalia is the sun; while she’s around, I am invisible.

A guilty flush taints my cheeks, and I break eye contact, muttering my thanks for the champagne. I swig the whole thing down. It’s too much of a stressful situation for me to maintain, and I can’t even bear to look at Thalia, too scared to see if she’s noticed that strange moment between me and Ivan. I hold my glass out for a refill and Ivan obliges, then I hand it over to Ani, who’s only half-heartedly pushing the stick in and out of the water.

“Thanks, this is sooo heavy,” she moans, taking the champagne flute from me and taking a long swallow. “This is a lot less fun than it looks.”

Touché.

She empties the glass and practically tosses it back to me. Thalia must realize what I’m up to, because she points to something in the distance and resumes chatting with Ivan. With Ivan distracted, I quickly refill the glass myself and pass it to Ani.

“Ugh, you are a lifesaver,” she says. The words come out sloppy, her lipsticked mouth slightly slack. She sways a little and I jump to my feet. I don’t need Ani falling into the river and causing a scene, which would surely ruin the rest of the day for Thalia and Ivan.

“Come here. I’ll take that,” I say, grabbing the stick and helping Ani to one of the seats on the boat. “I think maybe it’s best if we return the boat now.”

Thalia gives me a grateful smile, and I begin the long, arduous task of steering us back to the nearest docking bay, wondering again why I’m doing what the hell I’m doing.

I’m surprised by how weird it feels to have my feet planted back on solid ground. It’s disorientating; I feel like I’mstill swaying. So it’s no surprise when, five seconds after we hop off the boat and onto dry land, Ani leans over to one side and vomits. Oh, Ani, so predictable.

Ivan utters a sigh. An entire history conveyed with just one breath. Impatience and anger coloring his perfect face for just a fleeting moment, the flawless facade cracking. I wonder how many years of Ani he’s had to put up with, the spoiled, resentful little sister who hates that he was the one born with a cock—the key to the Pranajayas’ empire. For a second, I think of a literal penis-shaped key and I have to bite down on my lip to keep from laughing. Ivan walks over toward Ani, but I’m faster because I’ve been waiting for this (well, minus the vomit) and already I’m there, patting Ani’s shoulder and gathering her hair behind her neck.

“Let me,” Ivan says, but I step between him and Ani.

“It’s okay,” I say. It’s not okay. Take care of your goddamned sister. Take her back to Jakarta and lock her away forever. “I don’t mind. I’m actually not feeling too great myself, so why don’t you let me take Ani back to our dorm and we can have a bit of a rest while Thalia shows you around the city?”

He’s taken aback by this. I guess he’s not used to other people stepping up and offering to take care of his messy little sister. Thalia steps up beside him, her eyes shining with hope. Ivan frowns. “I don’t think—”

“No, really. I mean, how often do you get to come to Oxford, right?” I say quickly. “It’s one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and you’re only here for a week before you go back to London. It would be such a shame to miss out on everything.”

“Let me at least call you two a cab.” Such a gentleman. A gentleman who can’t wait to be rid of us. My heart is being ripped into two halves—one side singing happily at succeedingin my quest; the other weeping, tearing things apart. I am not used to being generous, to doing things for the sole benefit of another person. I do not like this feeling, but I would do it again and again for Thalia. Thalia whose face is bright as the sun, who is staring at me like I’ve just saved her puppy—no, better, I’ve saved her mother. She mouths a thank-you as Ivan flags down a cab and gives the driver a twenty-pound note, way too much for the two-minute drive to Pemberton. We help Ani inside the cab (Ani: “I don’t need help. Oh my god, you guys, stop that—stop, ow!”). I slide in after her and gaze longingly out the window. The last thing I see is Thalia slipping her hand through the crook of Ivan’s arm before the cab turns a corner and they disappear from my sight.

Guess what’s worse than leaving Thalia with an unbelievably beautiful man who also happens to be richer than god? Well, never mind. Nothing’s actually worse than that. But what makes it even worse is leaving Thalia for said beautiful man to take care of his very drunk, very angry sister.

I don’t understand why Ani’s so angry all the time. If I had her looks and all the money in the world, I would—well, I don’t know what I would do; it’s not something I’ve daydreamed about, but I imagine I would at least not be this bitter.

“She knows, you know,” Ani slurs.

I turn my face from the window and look at her. I’m not going to take the bait. And with Ani, everything is a bait. She doesn’t ever say anything without having first calculated how much it would prick at your skin. She likes to push people to the point where they’re uncomfortable enough to almost tip over into anger, before she laughs and tells them she’s just kidding.That’s the kind of asshole she is. The world is her playground and the people in it are her toys.

“She knows you looove her.”

It feels like I’ve been punched. The taxi driver glances at me through the rearview mirror, but I pretend not to notice. I study my hands instead.

“God, Jane, you’re so fucking obsessed with her. It’s sad. Why is everyone so in love with her, anyway? She’s just a cute, racially ambiguous chick; there’s like about a dozen of her in every Whole Foods in New York.”

“You’re drunk,” I snap. And now I’ve lost, because now she knows she’s managed to get under my skin.

“I see what you two are trying to do.”

The taxi driver isn’t even bothering to pretend that he’s not listening. He’s turning his head to look at Ani once every few seconds.You should pay attention to the road, I want to say, but my words have dried up.

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