54: Rituals of the Sisterhood

The dorm still smelled like last night - vanilla from Zara’s hair, the citrusy trace of Ayesha’s body spray, and the faint metal-cold of November that had followed them in from the outside. They had come back floating, arms looped, knees weak from the goodbye at the door: one kiss that became two, then three, then a helpless series of “okay, just one more,” until Bharath finally cleared his throat and they stumbled away, laughing into each other’s necks.

Now they were a knot under the comforter, legs braided, foreheads nearly touching on the same pillow. They dreamed about the most amazing date they had ever been on in their lives.

Zara traced lazy circles on Ayesha’s arm, her mind still replaying last night in dizzy flashes - the warmth of his arms when he draped it over her shoulders, the way his hand had trembled just slightly before he kissed her, as if he wasn’t the invincible lover the whole campus whispered about but a boy as nervous as they were. That, more than the kisses, had melted her.

Ayesha’s chest ached with the same thought. She whispered, “I kept thinking that last night was a dream and that we would wake up last night and realize he doesn’t want us. But it wasn’t a dream and he didn’t. He called us his forever, Zara. Forever.”

“Do you remember the way he looked at us when he dropped us off?” Ayesha whispered, drowsy and incredulous at once.

Zara smiled into the pillow as she stretched luxuriously. “Looked, kissed, snuggled ... ummm ... was there anything the man did that we didn’t love?”

Ayesha nudged her, eyes softer, more searching. “You laugh, but I still can’t believe he chose us. He could have anyone ... and he looked at us like we were enough.”

Zara smirked. “Not enough. Everything. You’re too busy doubting, baby girl. I saw his face - he’s gone for us. We belong to him completely.”

They fell into the kind of soft talk that unfurls when no one else will interrupt: the pinch of nerves when they’d first seen him on the quad, the silly relief of hearing him admit he was nervous too; the way he listened - actually listened - when they talked about food and family. He didn’t patronize them. He was genuinely interested in getting to know them - his soulmates. The girls’ hearts leapt for joy at the thought of him being their one and only.

“I keep thinking about the restaurant,” Ayesha murmured, “how we joked about feminism and fries and then he quietly reached for both our hands. Wasn’t it cute when he got possessive of us?”

“And how he looked when he said soulmates,” Zara said. “Like he was afraid of breaking the word, but couldn’t pretend not to believe it. I still can’t believe that he had so many doubts about us not thinking that he was enough for us.”

They were just reaching the part of the memory where he’d laughed at one of his own terrible dad jokes when the landline rang. That old beige landline in the dorm couldn’t do anything gracefully; it cheeped like an angry bird.

Ayesha groaned and fumbled for the receiver. “Hello?”

“Morning, my sexy spies!” Sarah sang, bright as day.

“Buenos días, mis amores!” Marisol chimed, her smile somehow audible.

“I told them you’d still be asleep,” Mia teased. “You guys were out late. So? How was it? Tell us everything!”

Zara sat up instantly, sleep forgotten, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. She pulled Ayesha close so they could both crowd around the receiver. “It’s you!” she squealed. “Oh my god - this is a sisterhood ambush, isn’t it?”

“Not ambush,” Sarah drawled, syrupy and smug. “Initiation. You two are part of the morning call now. It’s a ritual. Mia’s been with us every morning since she can’t be here in person yet. And now? You’re in too. No excuses.”

Ayesha pressed her palm to her mouth, giggling helplessly. “Oh my god. We’re in.” She turned to Zara, eyes shining. “We’re actually in.”

Mia’s voice softened, wistful. “It’s how I get through the wait. Two more days. Then I’ll be there with you.”

Zara’s heart twisted a little at the longing in her tone, and she said without hesitation, “We’ll make sure those two days fly by. I promise.”

On the other end, Marisol groaned theatrically. “You know he went to the gym already? What did you guys do to him last night? He was so wound up after your date! He wore us out so badly last night. I swear Sarah and I almost passed out from all the climaxes. We both literally collapsed on top of him. It was like Sacred Tuesday come early. We couldn’t even wake up in time to give him his morning ... service.”

Sarah’s laugh was shameless and low. “Mmhmm. Usually we wake him with a titjob or blowjob alarm clock. But thanks to you two getting him all worked up on your date, we couldn’t wake up this morning. He destroyed us last night. Over and over till we begged for mercy. Thank you so much for doing whatever you did girls. Mari and I collected with interest! I can’t believe it but he’s too much for just the two of us now! We need reinforcements ladies!”

Mia whimpered as both Zara and Ayesha clapped hands over their mouths, squealing, eyes wide with delighted shock. “Oh my god,” Ayesha whispered.

“You should’ve seen him,” Marisol said, her voice dropping husky. “We couldn’t keep up. And it was all because of you two. You broke him in for us perfectly.”

Zara and Ayesha collapsed against each other in laughter, cheeks burning hot, thrilled and mortified in equal measure.

Mia sighed on the line, a mix of envy and joy. “God, I can’t wait. Just two more days and I’ll finally get to be part of that too.”

Her voice wavered, softer now. “Sometimes I think about him walking past my locker when I a few months back. How he didn’t even know me then, and I was already waiting. Two more days feels like nothing ... and like a lifetime.”

“We’ll save some energy for you, baby girl,” Sarah teased. “But you better be ready. He’s unstoppable when he’s in that mood.”

Ayesha hugged the phone to her chest for a second, giddy. “This is insane. We went on one date and now we’re in your morning ritual?”

“That’s how it works,” Marisol said firmly. “Family is family. After tonight’s date, you two can start moving your things in. We’ll need to figure out how to fit everyone in the bed.”

Zara gasped, laughing. “Fit? Around Bharath? You mean all of us together in the bed? What about sleep?”

Sarah cracked up. “Girl, you think any of us want to sleep when he’s in the middle? Half the night’s just figuring out how to buckle up for the ride. And don’t worry he’ll make you pass out soon enough. You’ll get plenty of sleep after that.”

The call dissolved into laughs again, the kind that made their ribs ache, the kind that came only when secrets and longing and joy were being shared across phone lines like braids of intimacy.

For the first time, Zara and Ayesha felt it completely: not just lovers, not just dates, but sisters.

---- “Okay,” Sarah said once the giggles had calmed enough for them to breathe. Her voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. “Now spill. We’ve been dying since last night. How was the date? Don’t you dare leave anything out.”

Zara flopped onto her stomach, feet kicking the air. “It was perfect. Dinner, bad jokes, confessions, and - “ she paused dramatically - “our poor jaanu screaming like a baby in the movie.”

All three lines of the call erupted in laughter.

“Tell us everything,” Marisol demanded. “Start with dinner.”

Ayesha jumped in. “Okay, so first - don’t kill us - we told him it’s feminist tradition for the girls to pay on the first date.”

Mia gasped. “No!”

“Yes!” Zara shrieked. “And he believed us! He sat there looking like a betrayed puppy. Then he tried to recover with this awful pun about a Patty-archy Melt.”

Sarah groaned, but she was laughing. “God, he actually told us later he made a sandwich joke. You monsters.”

“He hated it, but he let us,” Ayesha admitted, grinning. “The whole time he looked guilty, like he was letting you two down. He said he always tries to connect with each of you - soccer for Mari, books for Sarah, EDM for Mia - so paying was his way of showing he could take care of us too.”

That softened the laughter into a warm silence.

Mia murmured, “That’s so him.”

Marisol added softly, “Cariño always wants to give more than he thinks he deserves.”

“Exactly,” Ayesha said. “He was so sweet about it, we almost confessed right there. But then...” She broke into giggles again. “We all found out we’re vegetarians. The look on his face - you’d think he’d discovered treasure.”

Zara chimed in, “He almost hugged the waitress when she brought the veggie burger menu. It was like finding long-lost cousins. We actually squealed so loud people stared.”

Sarah was still laughing. “Oh my god. He never told us that part.”

“And then,” Ayesha said more softly, “Rahman. I hummed a line under my breath and he knew it instantly. Started singing the counter-melody. Tamil and Hindi both. It was like ... he knew the soundtrack of my childhood.”

For a moment, all three ends of the call went quiet.

Mia whispered, “That’s beautiful.”

Marisol’s voice was gentle. “He once told us he worried about not sharing the same childhood with us. He felt like he’d always be missing pieces. You just gave him back one of those pieces.”

Zara swallowed. “That’s what it felt like. Like he really saw us.”

Sarah broke the softness with a teasing lilt. “So why not let him pay, hmm?”

Both younger girls groaned. Ayesha admitted, “Because ... we thought he was poor! He wears the same three shirts, you guys. His shoes are tragic. We didn’t want him to feel pressured.”

That set the older girls off laughing again.

Zara rolled onto her back, covering her face. “And now I’m terrified he’ll think I’m a gold digger. After everything I used to be, the last thing I want is him doubting me.”

The line went tender at once.

“Zara,” Sarah said firmly. “Listen to me. He doesn’t think that. He wouldn’t have told you you’re his forever if he did.”

Marisol added, “He chose you. Not for your clothes, not for money, not for anything but what he felt when he kissed you. Don’t ever forget that.”

Mia’s voice was soft but steady. “And if he trusted you enough to share that last night, then you don’t get to doubt it. Not anymore.”

Zara blinked hard, her chest loosening. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. Thank you.”

Marisol purred knowingly. “That’s what makes him ours, baby. He gives us all of himself. Even the parts that most men wouldn’t. He will do anything for his apsaras.”

The word sent a shiver through Zara. Apsara. A dancer from heaven, destined to please gods and kings.

Ayesha’s eyes glistened. “If we’re apsaras, then he’s our king. Our only one.” Her voice broke on the last word, and Zara hugged her tighter, both of them trembling at how right it felt.