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Amisha Mukhopadhyay

 

​Kiran brushed hair out of her face and peered through the window of Pink Dragon Boba. The buzzing crowd of college students inside the shop all likely had the same idea: to celebrate the end of midterms with bubble tea.

The last place Kiran wanted to be right now was a cramped shop filled with people. But she’d been putting off meeting Gina in person for weeks. Politeness mixed with a feeling of obligation—and, Kiran supposed, lingering affection—arising from their several months of friendship forced her to take a deep breath and push the door open.

Inside, Kiran quickly spotted Gina standing in line. Her bright copper curls bounced animatedly as she caught Kiran’s eye across the room and waved. Kiran made her way over to her friend and, despite herself, smiled when Gina pulled her into a quick side hug.

“Kiran! It’s great to see you!” Gina gushed, barely giving her time to reply with a “You too” before continuing. “I left my stuff on that table”—she pointed—“to save a spot, but you should go sit while I order in case someone steals it. What kind of drink did you want?”

“Okay, uh, I heard the mango flavor was good—”

“Trust me, don’t get fruit flavors from here. They always taste like ass.”

Kiran didn’t really think so, but she brushed it off. “Oh. Alright, then I’ll just stick with, um, plain milk tea.”

“Great. Wait for me and I’ll bring it.”

Pushing through the crowd, Kiran sat down at the table by the far wall that Gina had pointed to. It would likely take a while for the drinks to be ready, she realized, considering how packed the shop was tonight. Kiran sighed. She hadn’t really expected to spend the first fifteen minutes of her “friend date” waiting by herself at the back of the bubble tea shop.

Their table was sandwiched between two others. At one sat a couple who seemed more interested in sucking at each other’s faces than at their straws. At the other was a large group of students laughing loudly. One of them shoved his friend’s shoulder, and the boy stumbled backwards into Kiran.

“Shit, my bad,” he said quickly before turning back to the group, not noticing Kiran’s instinctive sharp recoil.

The knowledge that dozens of bodies were surrounding her in this tiny shop suddenly tightened a knot in her stomach. She forced herself to take a deep breath. It was fine. She was fine.

She wished Gina had picked another place to meet at.

Kiran absentmindedly scrolled through her camera roll as she waited. Her finger landed on a selfie she’d taken last semester, from the last time she and Gina had gone out together. Gina stood at her right with a dazzling smile. The image was cropped from the left, but a third person’s hand was still visible, resting low on Kiran’s hip.

She remembered the moment right after she took the photo: how Gina had stumbled away to greet a friend that had just arrived, and Kiran realized that the hand had suddenly slipped lower and gripped her ass.

She had turned to gape in surprise at Gina’s boyfriend, not knowing how to react but all at once feeling sick to her stomach. He had met her shocked stare with a sloppy grin and slurred, “My bad.”

Another deep breath.

She deleted the picture.

Gina finally approached with two drinks in hand. She placed them on the table, along with a small receipt Kiran scanned before Venmo-ing her friend.

“Here you go.” Gina slid the beige-colored drink across the table and sat back, sipping on her own pink one daintily.

“Thanks,” said Kiran. She glanced at the cup in Gina’s hand, tempted to ask whether her strawberry-flavored drink tasted like ass or not. Instead, she forced a light tone and asked, “Isn’t it a little weird to be drinking cold milk tea in thirty-degree weather?”

“They don’t seem to think so,” Gina replied airily, waving an arm around at the crowd around them.

Kiran took a sip. Her drink was sweet, tasting like caramel. She said so aloud. Gina raised her eyebrows.

“Are you sure? I told them plain milk tea.”

Kiran tilted her cup towards Gina so that she could try it herself.

Gina pursed her lips in irritation. “This is ridiculous. They must have given you the wrong drink.”

“I mean, it’s okay. This one is good too.”

“They messed up your order; they should fix it.”

Kiran shifted in her seat. “I’m sure they just got overwhelmed with customers and made a mistake. No point in waiting for a new drink.”

Gina opened her mouth to answer and then closed it. After a pause, she said, “You know, you always do this.”

Kiran looked up in the middle of sucking a tapioca pearl out of her straw. “Do what?”

Gina leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “I’m just saying you should stick up for yourself more.”

“What? It’s just bubble tea, Gina. It’s not that deep,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. She didn’t need Gina, of all people, to be her life coach.

Suddenly, all Kiran found herself wanting to do was finish her bubble tea, go back to her dorm, send Gina a text saying “Had a great time!” and go on with her life as the distance between them stretched further and further.

Her hopes sunk as she watched Gina roll her eyes, now looking annoyed.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not talking about bubble tea, Kiran.” When Kiran didn’t reply, she continued, “All I mean is that you’ve always let people walk all over you unless I did something about it, and—”

Kiran slammed her cup down on the table. “Are you kidding me?”

Gina stared. The couple next to them stopped making out and stared too.

Kiran took a deep breath. “Tell me one thing, Gina. Are you still with Jordan?”

“What—”

Are you?”

She scoffed, understanding. “You’re not seriously still mad about that? He was drunk!”

“He violated me that night, Gina. You’re supposed to be my friend, but instead of supporting me when I reported him, you pretended there was some ‘middle ground’ you could stand on to defend that piece of shit.”

“You’re impossible, K. If anything, I should be the one who gets mad about my boyfriend getting handsy with another girl. But guess what? I got over it because I’m not a whiny bi—”

Kiran had heard enough. Not caring that the entire store was staring now, not caring that she’d probably get banned from Pink Dragon forever for what she was about to do next, Kiran ripped off the cover of her cup and poured its contents right over Gina’s shiny head.

Even as she’d worked for weeks to deal with all the lingering feelings the assault had left her with, a part of her had been avoiding confronting Gina in the hopes that at least one thing—their friendship—could remain the same as before. What a silly idea that had been. Kiran knew now that she deserved to be treated with respect, and that it was okay to demand it.

She looked at Gina one last time, at the tea and plump tapioca pearls dripping down her stunned face to the floor, and walked out of the store with her head held high.


 

Amisha Mukhopadhyay is a  junior from East Windsor, NJ, studying Public Policy and Geography. She loves novels, comedy shows, and period dramas.

Amisha wrote this piece in Paul Blaney’s Creative Writing class during the Spring 2021 semester. She’d like to thank him and her classmates for their great feedback and encouragement. Blaney selected the story for inclusion in WHR.