Chapter Nine- My Big Mistake

After the incident at dinner, I was avoided by everyone. With Pa it was no different than any other time; Ma, however, seemed to have concluded that I was insane and delusional. Saawan seemed rather hacked off that I didn't want to talk about Pavni. I cared that he wasn't talking to me, but did not have the emotional energy to repair our relationship. Pavni meanwhile had stopped talking to everyone.

Javed and Pavni had become the next new thing at school. For one, Pavni was always the good, sensible, conservative one; top of her class. Not only was Javed the exact opposite, but he usually did not hold onto a girlfriend for more than a few weeks, and his relationship with Pavni had been going on for quite a while more. The girls in my class kept a fine line between themselves and me, which they did not often tread upon. Soon, I stopped trying.
I had become the girl with the rebellious sister.

I often passed Javed alone when I walked to school; Pavni had begun taking an alternative route so as to not be pressed with the necessity of speaking to me. He offered no form of recognition, and sometimes I wondered if he even knew I was the sister of the girl he spent so much time with.

The nights were silent, with little talk exchanged between us all. I was sinking slowly into depression. I had heard it spoken about before; described as being a feeling of emptiness rather than sorrow. And now, finally, I understood. Feeling nothing was worse than the pain. The pain you could take your mind away from; modulate, even. But emptiness could not be taken away. How can you take away what was never there?

Occasionally Ma would summon me to do something for her around the bedrooms, or in the kitchen. Though there was a wall of unspoken grudges and unhappiness between us, I obliged, for I did not think this was a good time for her to be overexerting herself. Several times again, Ma would eye me with that curious look again, obviously wondering what had possessed me to put such efforts into helping her. Of course, she did not know that I knew about the baby.

Then, one morning, I was about to leave for school when I felt a gentle hand on mine. "Wait, Little Laila," said Pavni. "I am coming." I understood the double meaning in her words. For the first time in weeks, I looked at my sister's face. She looked much, much older then sixteen. Dark circles framed her eyes, hallmarks of her sleeplessness. Her cheeks had grown sallow and her lips were cracked. Her body, which once sprang with life, had grown weak and tired. But what scared me most was the hollowness in her voice when she spoke to me.

She walked unnaturally slowly, and for some reason this bothered me. I remembered how she would dance with joy and liveliness and I wanted my sister back. My real sister. The one who had a life, and who gave me one, too. I turned to look at Pavni. She was barely managing to maintain the speed we were at. "Are you okay?" I asked, and she nodded, but just two minutes later she stopped walking and clapped a hand over her mouth.
"Pavni!"
She didn't answer, just shoved her other hand at me to tell me not to follow, and then ducked behind a wall. I couldn't help it; I had to follow. She was doubled over, retching into a gutter. And suddenly,looking into that pool of vomit, everything fell into place. Her midnight trips outside; Javed spending so much time with her; her hours in the bathroom that night; the used test; her tiredness all the time; Ma's confusion at my concern towards her.

Pavni was pregnant.