CHAPTER 13

Manik let out a breath that might have been a laugh or a sigh. "I am glad you think my academic and social status define me. You also know I can fix a car." Manik stood up and scratched his neck, leaving a smudge of black across it.

"Actually, I don't. So far all you have done is move some things around, make assessing noises, and get dirt all over yourself," Nandani said.

He looked over, his eyes thoughtful, and gestured to her. "Oh yeah? Come here." She moved over to join him at the front of the car and looked down into the engine. But instead of focusing under the hood, he turned and took a step towards Nandani. In an instant, Manik's body was nearly pressed up against hers, dark fathomless eyes looking straight into her soul in that disturbing way they did. Her traitorous mind switched into a hyperawareness state, feeling the warmth of his body, his hard planes so close. Every inch of her skin was instantly and intimately aware of every inch of his. She wanted to sway towards him and bring them into contact. Instead, she just swallowed.

To anyone who happened to be looking their way, which she prayed to God there wasn't, it would have looked like they were in some kind of embrace. This was not helping her Manik detox plan, though.

Manik slowly reached out to touch her face. He ran a thumb gently from near her ear, down her jaw to her chin. Nandani's eyes dropped to his lips and she shivered all the way to her toes. Her mouth fell open, needing to tell him; what? To stop? To hurry the hell up and take her against the side of the car before her brain caught up with them?

Then he flashed an uncharacteristically broad smile and her trance was broken.

"There. Now we are both dirty." Huh? Her brain finally clicked on again. Forcing her legs to move, she walked around to look in the driver's side mirror. She saw a smudge of grease that ran the length of her face. She tried to rub it off on the back of her hand and only proceeded to make herself dirtier in the process. He was making fun of her. Her own sexual frustration converted smoothly to anger at his antics.

"Clearly you are doing just fine yourself. I am going inside. Let me know if you need anything," she said to Manik.

"Oh, come on, Nandani," he begged earnestly. "It was a joke. Stay. I cannot help it, you are just so teasable. Besides, I might do something stupid if left to my own devices."

Nandani paused. "Sorry if that was against the rules. Remember the whole 'start fresh' thing? I am still trying to figure out who I am," he said.

Nandani took a deep breath and he continued, "We are having a conversation. In fact, I think it is your turn."

"What do you mean? You did not answer," she said

But he continued, "I know your dad left when you were young. I know you want to start a clothing line with my sister. I know you are a pretty great kisser. What else should I know if we are going to be friends?" He was so matter-of-fact she almost thought she had misheard him. She blushed, but his eyes seemed focused on the car. If he had turned them on her at that moment She probably would have gone an even darker shade of red. But the very fact that he had sneaked that in, did something to soothe her hurt ego.

"There is not much to know about me. I am an open book," she said.

"Bullshit. You have got more layers than an onion," Manik said.

Nandani did not know whether to be pleased or irritated. "Oh yeah? Well, you have more secrets than the FBI," she said.

"Then I guess we are even. That guy, Aryaman, right? Tell me about him." Manik smoothly switched topics.

"There is not much to tell. We started dating in high school," Nandani said.

"And he was dreamy?" He drawled over the last word.

"Yep. Aryaman was the golden boy. Most girls in high school are drawn to that," she said.

"You don't strike me as 'most girls,' Nandani."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Just that you would get bored with a guy like that. One who is too straight, and predictable," Manik said.

Nandani had never thought much about it before. Was there such a thing as too perfect? She replied, "I still could not resist him at seventeen."

Manik grunted with effort as he unscrewed something under the hood. The sound made her body tighten. "And what about now?" he asked his voice tight from the muscles working in his arms and chest.

"What do you mean?" Nandani asked him.

The bolt loosened up and he glanced towards her as he unscrewed it without looking. "What can't you resist now?" he asked her.

"Caffeine," she replied.

"No. You know what I mean." It felt like Manik was testing the friend boundaries again and she did not know why. Particularly after he had been so careless about their proximity a few minutes before.

"Alright. I guess I cannot resist guys who know who they are, and what they want. Most people don't." For some reason she rushed to add, "but as I said, I am not dating."

He seemed to think about it for a minute but went back to work on the car. She took the opportunity to jump in.

"My turn again. Why do you have such a bad reputation?" she asked.

Manik's voice sounded more guarded when he spoke again, but it might have just been muffled by the hood. "I don't know, Nandani."

"Really? I thought that the rehab thing might have been..." She searched for an appropriate word. "...polarizing. But what about the rest? The partying, the girls. Why does everyone think you are such a player when you are not, Manik."

Manik's hand paused for a moment, but he did not look up. "People see what they want to see."

"Maybe for a while. But don't people eventually see you as you are? People you have been knowing for a long time? Friends?" Nandani asked him.

"Sometimes. Not always," he replied.

"How can your friends think you are partying, sleeping with girls, and doing drugs when you are not, Manik?"

"It is complicated, Nandani. I never said I was a saint. Just that I did not do some of those things."

"Maybe it is because you act the way people expect you to act." She was being more courageous than usual and she did not know why.

"Or maybe because they are not real friends. They just want to be friends with the person they think you are," he said.

"Is that why you wanted a clean chit? Not because of the whole rehab thing, or what people knew about you, but because you did not have any friends you actually cared about? Or who cared about you?" She asked Manik.

Finally, he twisted something off, looked inside. "Can you get me a cloth or something?"

She ran inside and brought back a hand towel. He raised his eyebrows as she handed it to him. Their fingers touched, but Nandani pretended not to notice. "I am afraid they don't do many repairs in this area."

Taking the cloth Manik scrubbed at the part he had twisted off and then replaced it in the engine.

"Try it again," he said. She slipped behind the wheel and sure enough, the car started. Manik closed the hood with a thud.

"Distributor cap," he said, putting his tools back into the toolbox. He walked around to the trunk to drop them back in his car. "No big deal," he said.

"Wait," Nandani called. "You did not answer my question." The more she found out about him the more she realized she didn't know, and the more she wanted to know. Guys were not supposed to be this mysterious at his age. She knew Aryaman had not been.

Manik was walking to the driver's seat of his car when he shot her a half-smile. "I know. Raincheck." He closed the door after him and leaned his head out of the window. "And Nandani? You still owe me."