The Best at It: Chapters 5–10

She looks flushed. “I was just talking to David. You know, David Nguyen? In the eighth grade?”
“Um, yes. I know who David is.” I squint at her. “Is that why your face is all red?”

Mr. Wilson reaches back and tousles Arun’s hair.

Fridays, Mom works from home. She says she gets more work done that way because people aren’t barging into her office all day long bothering her with a million questions.

Nandita Auntie sails across the kitchen floor, her canary-yellow-and-hot-pink sari nearly blinding me when she lands in front of us.

Nandita Auntie pops a piece of homemade samosa into Arun’s mouth, and another into mine.

“Isn’t the International Bazaar, like, months away?” I say with my mouth full of samosa. The flavors make me salivate.

“Are you going to be doing this every Friday?” I ask, savoring the last nugget of gooey, warm potato.

International Bazaar (or as Chelsea and I call it, International Bizarre) is this festival that happens every year in Greenville. People of different cultures—and believe me, there aren’t that many in Greenville—get together to sell food and gifts from their home countries while putting on a talent show.

“Arun, beta, come sit on my lap and let Auntie feed you, okay?”
Arun trudges over.

I reluctantly climb onto Nandita Auntie’s lap.

“Well, in that case, we’ll need a bigger venue than last year. Juhi, you’re in charge of finding us a new location!”

“I could probably feed myself,” I say, trying to end this mortifying ritual.

She feigns being upset.

Their voices float into the hallway, muffled by the running faucet and the clinking of plates.

“Bhai’s Greatest Bollywood Hits” is a compilation of Bhai’s favorite Bollywood song-and-dance numbers from, as he puts it, the greatest films of Bollywood’s Golden Age.

“Yes. You froze up.”
“No, I didn’t,” I scoff.

His wheels drag gently across the floor as he sidles up closer to me.

We zipped around in a rickshaw, the driver blaring his horn at all the cars in our way.

But your grandmother was determined to become an engineer. She worked very hard, and she got only the best grades.

Well, even Mr. Ramdas was shocked. He stammered a bit, but your grandmother remained calm, with her head held high.

“Your grandmother taught me no one can stand in your way. If you dedicate yourself to something and become the best at it, then nobody can stop you.”

The moonlight streaming in from the window casts Bhai’s body into silhouette, and the little wisps of hair peeking out from under his hat glow silver against his temples.

The moonlight streaming in from the window casts Bhai’s body into silhouette, and the little wisps of hair peeking out from under his hat glow silver against his temples.

He’s holding two split ends of a long auxiliary cable in his hand.

Bollywood Supply just ordered some new band equipment, and I guess they’re still figuring it all out. Dad plugs in the other end of the cable. No feedback.

I’ve shoved away the coffee table to make room for Mom’s easel, which is teetering precariously on the shag rug.

I erased all the other stuff Mom and the aunties had written on the board, but I decided to keep “Planning Committee” intact. I figure this will take some planning, and Mom says committees are the way to get things done.

She furrows her brow.

“What is this all about anyway? Why are you so obsessed with this all of the sudden?”

Monday morning, in first period English, Mrs. Collins gives us a pop quiz. Her infamous first quiz of the year. The one every eighth grader at Greenville Junior High has warned every seventh grader about since the beginning of time.

A voice down the hall bellows, “Go long!”

“Ha! I didn’t even have to move!” Justin gloats, tossing the ball from one hand to the next.

Brent saunters over.

“And we have to get every minute of practice in that we can.” He grabs the ball from Justin. “First scrimmage is right around the corner.”

All during lunch, I can see Chelsea’s mouth moving while she talks to me, but my mind is fixated on Brent.