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SAJNI PATELAJNI PATEL
S
over a sore shoulder and brushing off the wave of light-hearted
teasing.
The sky was already dark without a cloud in sight. Silver
dusted stars and a waning moon shone bright. The Texas air
had chilled considerably since afternoon and sent goosebumps
up my still sweaty arms. I slipped into my beat-up, four-door
sedan that only had three working doors, onto the towel that
Mama insisted I sit on if I forewent showering before driving,
and turned up the heat before leaving the now half-empty
parking lot.
It was a quick drive home and I couldn’t get out of the car
fast enough. One would think there were puppies or imported
chocolates waiting for me in my room, but there was something
far more important.
I lugged the duffel bag past the foyer and through the long
corridor, depositing it outside my bedroom, and continued
down the hall to Mama’s room.
The door was wide open, but I knocked anyway.
“Come in! How was the fight?” my mom asked, a smile on
her face because she somehow always knew when I had won
or lost without having seen the fight.
“I won. Knockout in round two!” I climbed into bed beside
my father and hugged him. “Hi, Papa. Welcome home!”
He hugged me tight, wrapping me in an unforgettable
smell of dad shampoo and soap. From the sight of his damp
hair and barely wrinkled pajamas, it was safe to assume that
he’d just showered, which meant he must’ve been home for
less than an hour.
While Mama folded clothes at the foot of the bed, Papa
kept an arm around my shoulder and I nestled into his side,
careful to not aggravate my pains and bruises.
“Tell me all about the fight. She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

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