Save Me a Seat: Chapters 1–17

Suryanarayanan is my surname. My first name is Ravi.

“Patience is a virtue,” Amma reminds me often.

“Be proud of who you are and remember where you come from,” she tells me. “If you’re not careful, you’ll turn into one of them. Your grandfather didn’t slave in the tea plantations so that his only grandson would become some rude, overweight, beef-eating cowboy.”

My favorite subjects are math, English, and sports—especially cricket.

Maybe Dillon Samreen will decide to pick on this new kid with the weird name and the funny accent instead of me.

Mrs. Beam tells us we are going to play some games called icebreakers.

I spot Dillon standing in the queue waiting to buy his lunch.

Ethan once stole his father’s car keys and drove around the neighborhood in his pajamas, and even though Evan never got caught, I knew for a fact that he was the Bathroom Bandit of Einstein—notorious for drawing dirty pictures on the bathroom walls and throwing wet toilet paper balls on the ceiling.

“Is it vegetarian?" asks Amma.
"I wouldn't take their word for it,” Perimma interrupts before I can answer. "I hear their salad oil has lard in it.”

“Tell him your IQ is 135 and that you were first batsman on your cricket team at Vidya Mandir. That should impress him well."

The whole house smells like meat loaf. I try to ignore it, but I don't have the willpower to pass it up.

“Assimilate: to consume and incorporate nutrients into the body after digestion,” I say confidently.

"Thank you, RAH-vee,” Mrs. Beam says, but the pity look is still there. “In this context, however, the word assimilate means to try to fit in. Don’t feel bad, it was a very good guess.”

When she called my mother in to tell her to get me assessed, Amma had cried.

I read it again: to integrate, to fit in.

"People are making assumptions about me too," I point out.

Amma and Perimma picked me up at the bus stop, bombarding me with a million questions as usual.

For the rest of the afternoon, Amma and Perimma chased me around the house, offering me food and drink, hoping to pry some information out of me.

Amma puts on her favorite blue sweater, picks up her saree pleats, hoists them just above her ankles, and tucks them in at her waist.

I think about number two on the list (courage), number thirteen (righteousness), and number fourteen (justice).