Jasmine and Jake Rock the Boat by Sonya Lalli

Author:Sonya Lalli [Lalli, Sonya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-04-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

I’d only made it twenty feet out of the restaurant when I heard Jake calling my name. I turned around, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“You can call me a douchebag again if you want,” he said sheepishly. He stopped short in front of me. “I’m sorry.”

I tilted my chin, studying him. The facade he’d put up earlier at dinner was suddenly gone.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jake rubbed his jaw, staring at me. “I kind of hate that you see through my shit, Jasmine.”

Our eyes locked. My pulse was pounding; a weird sensation fluttered in my belly, threatening to escape.

“You don’t hate it,” I said, pushing it down.

“I don’t?” he whispered.

I threw Jake a sassy look. “You love it.”

“Is there a third option?”

“No.” I linked up arms with him, pulling him forward so we started walking in step. “So, are you—uh—OK?”

“I’m drunk.” He swallowed. “I’m more than OK.”

“Excellent coping mechanism,” I declared. “Should we go find a bar and get you even drunker?”

“No. No bar.” He scanned the corridors as if he were searching for something. “Uh . . . let’s just go for a walk.”

We continued wandering down the hall, passing other groups on their way to and from dinner, or an evening enjoying one of the cruise amenities. Jake was struggling and I didn’t want to push him. It took a few minutes for him to speak again.

“She’s not always so bad, you know.”

I looked up at him. “Bishan Auntie?”

Nodding, Jake continued. “Dad loses it whenever she tries to set me up. It’s a sore subject, because their family didn’t accept my mom right away. They weren’t exactly thrilled he married a white woman he met at IHOP . . .”

“Wow . . .” I smiled. “That’s romance.”

“I know Bhua is a lot,” Jake continued. “But the only reason she’s so invested in everyone else’s life is because she doesn’t have one of her own. I actually feel really bad for her.”

I flinched. “Really?”

“My grandparents married her off to my uncle when she was twenty,” Jake said. “He’s twice her age, and such a jerk. He’s never home, and when he is, he barely speaks to her.”

We’d come to the elevator bank at the end of the passage, and I stayed silent as I processed the new picture I was developing of the queen. An unhappily married woman was a far too tragic, and common, story in our community, and I was filled with a sudden surge of empathy for Bishan Auntie.

“But she’s too much,” Jake said softly. “Sometimes, when she’s bragging about me, I just want to scream.”

“She’s proud of you,” I offered.

“No, she’s trying to be my mother.” Jake cleared his throat, his eyes darting to the floor.

“Dad brags about my brothers, not me.” He shrugged. “They’re more like him. Masculine. Good at sports. The important things in life.”

“That sucks,” I said quietly, suddenly remembering how Jake had asked me not to tell his dad he’d been watching Outlander. How Ranjit Uncle had,

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