When Devils Sing(75)
“Go,” Nanaji said. Just one word, but there was a heavy finality to it. “Go, and do not come back.”
Kiran’s mouth fell agape. She blinked several times, as if she didn’t quite hear him. “Dad, come on. You don’t mean that.”
Nanaji merely held up his hand, silencing her with a gesture. “You defend her when all she has done is lie,” he seethed. “She lies to you. To me. She lies to us all.” He unrolled something from within the newspaper—a letter with a university logo on it—and handed it to Kiran.
“You went through my mail?” Neera shouted.
With slow, deliberate movements, Nanaji rose from the ground, leaning on the nearest pillar. Without another word, he turned his back to them and disappeared into the motel.
“Neera,” Kiran whispered, her eyes rapidly scanning the paper in her hand. “What is this?”
“I can explain,” Neera said. She didn’t need to read it to know what it was. Georgia Southwestern State University had finally responded to her letter of deferment from two months prior.
Simple, merely a few sentences, but it confirmed Kiran’s worst fears.
“I was waiting to tell you,” Neera said quickly. “Until after the festival ended.” Until I won the competition. Until I proved you wrong. Until I saved us all.
Kiran wouldn’t look at her. “Tell me this isn’t true.” Hurt coated her words. “Tell me you haven’t been lying to me for months.”
“I—I,” Neera started. “I knew you’d be upset, so I wanted to wait.”
“Until you won the Cicada’s Song, right?” Kiran asked pointedly. “Neera, I don’t care what you do, but college is not negotiable. It’s never been negotiable.”
Neera groaned in frustration. “I’m so sick of you saying that as if it’s some magical solution. You’re not the one who has to take out student loans to pay for it. I am. And I don’t want it. The last thing any of us needs is more goddamn debt.”
Kiran shook her head in disbelief. “You’re really not going?”
“Not this year, no.” Maybe never.
“All right,” her mom said evenly. “If you want to make your own choices, that’s fine. But it doesn’t mean I have to support them. You’re an adult now. If you don’t want to go to college, then … you can go live on your own.”
Neera’s jaw went slack. “What’re you saying?”
“I’m saying…” Silent tears rolled down Kiran’s cheeks. Sniffling slightly, she said, “Go see how hard it is to get by when you only have a high school diploma and twenty dollars to your name. Maybe then you’ll realize I’m just trying to save you from the same mistakes I made.”
“Mom, please,” Neera cried. “Please, don’t do this.”
“You know, I realized I gave Ajay too many chances,” Kiran said in a low, strained voice. “We all did. My mom, my dad. They babied him and I wasn’t any better. Every time he screwed up and lost his job, or blew all his money on whatever bullshit he needed for his music, I picked him back up every single time.”
“Don’t,” Neera warned. “Please.” She could already sense where this was going, and she couldn’t bear it.
“He never grew up,” Kiran continued. “Because he never had to. Not when we would always take care of him. And you know what happened the one time I didn’t help him? Huh, Neera? He killed himself. The one time in our whole lives I told him to figure his shit out himself—and he didn’t. He couldn’t.”
Neera’s chin began to tremble. “What’re you saying?”
Kiran swiped at her eyes, smudging her mascara. “He called me that night. An hour before he did it. He begged me to let him come stay, but I…” Her mom’s voice cracked. “I could tell he wasn’t well. I couldn’t let him be around you like that. Not anymore. So I told him no.”
Neera’s vision swam as she leaned against the nearest pole for support. Wiley Calhoun’s threat rang clear in her head. She refused to believe Ajay took his own life. He would never leave me. In a low whisper, she said, “You don’t know that. Maybe he just needed to talk to someone. Maybe he was in trouble. Maybe he just needed his family.”
“No.” Kiran’s face turned hard. “Ajay’s the reason he’s dead. And I refuse to support that same kind of life for you, Neera. If you want to play music more than anything else, then go do that. But I’m not gonna stand by and watch you end up just like Ajay.”
Neera squeezed her eyes shut, winding her fingers through her hair, damp with sweat. “You’re so fucked up. All of this is fucked.”
“One day you’ll understand,” Kiran said quietly. She glanced over her shoulder, toward the motel’s lobby. “I need to check on my dad. When you’re ready to take your future seriously, I’ll be here. But until then, you’re on your own.”
Neera sniffled. “That’s it?”
“I’ll stay in another room tonight,” Kiran said. “You can take the Nissan, but you need to be gone by morning.”
Gone. Neera lingered on the word as a wedge was driven between them. Her entire life, she and Kiran had been an inseparable pair. There had never been a time where they were physically apart. For all their faults, they were the other’s emotional crutch. In all Neera’s daydreams of leaving the Colonial behind, her mom was always at her side.