How did people park in downtown? This was a nightmare and it was worse with Sweety sitting beside him. When Mr. Pacheco had suggested they go to Robarts library at the University of Toronto, he’d offered to drive her instead of them taking the subway with the rest of the class. She’d thought the subway could be quicker but Happy had insisted intending to show off his new car. Now he looked doubly the fool.
He had picked her up from the HastyMart she worked at close to downtown. This had meant exiting the highway early and getting to her. She had changed in the back while Happy browsed the sour candy. When she came back out she had makeup on, signalling she wanted to look good for Happy.1
“Why do you work so deep in the city?’ Happy said.
“I want to be close to downtown. If i’m studying here next year I want to get used to the vibes,” Sweety said.
“What’s so good about down here?” Happy said.
“Well I’m not just a desi here. I’m someone trying to make it into society. Real society. Not melas, weddings and arranged meet-ups. I’m talking galas, house parties and open mics.” Sweety said.
“That all sounds like white people shit,” Happy said.
“Exactly,” Sweety said.
Happy parked at an underground lot, deciding to worry about how much it would cost when he left. The smell of gasoline was great to Happy since he was a kid. He was pleased to be close to Sweety again. There weren’t any macho guys in a University credit course so he liked having no competition to a newly single Sweety.
“Why are you so against it You’re planning on going to University and there isn’t one in Rexdale,” Sweety said.
“I don’t know where I’m gonna go,” Happy said.
“Well you gotta apply by the end of the year so you better start getting an idea. I don’t think you’re keen on going far away because you’ll have to pay for housing and there will be even more of the white people you’re so afraid of. So what? U of T? York? Ryerson? That’s it, and Ryerson’s like a college,” Sweety said.
“I don’t think I have the grades for U of T,” Happy said.
‘Well if you can hold a fork you can go to York,” Sweety said.
“What?” Happy said.
“It’s something stupid kids say around here,” Sweety said.
“You spend a lot of time around here?” Happy said.
“Yeah our Sociology class comes with a U of T student ID. I’ve used it to get into speaking events and stuff. I’m serious about this Happy. I’m not trying to be a Rexdale aunty getting beat on by her drunk husband. With Amit out of the picture, I’m done with that shit,” Sweety said.
“What happened between you two. We got interrupted last time,” Happy said.
“By interrupted you mean in a stupid fight? That’s why I broke up with him. I’m tired of being a mob wife. That shit was attractive when I was younger. Now that I’m a grown up I know what really matters,” Sweety said.
They were walking past skycrapers and old churches. This might as well have been a date he’d seen on network TV. He felt pressured to make a move.
“And would you be interested in going on a real date one of these days?” Happy said.
“Happy, you should be more focussed on graduating than trying to date me right now,” Sweety said.
Right now.
Happy had to graduate to stand a thought he wagered.
“Alright, I gotta start applying to those Universities asap then,” Happy said playfully.
Robarts was like a concrete peacock jutting into the sky around the heritage buildings it bordered. It was seven floors of books, like Toronto’s library of alexandria. Full of obtuse books people may never touch again, might as well already be lost to fire.
They caught up to the class.
Footnotes
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unreliable narrator ↩