Karthik Delivers , livre ebook

PUBLISHER S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for and may be obtained from the Library of Congress.
ISBN 978-1-4197-5522-4 eISBN 978-1-6470-0344-9
Text 2022 Sheela Chari
Music note art credit to: mhatzapa/Shutterstock.com
Bike art credit to: Miceking/Shutterstock.com
Book design by Deena Fleming and Chelsea Hunter
Published in 2022 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS.
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For Mom and Dad
Chapter 1
I m good at remembering things: birthdays, driving directions, ice cream flavors, words to movies, the smell of shampoo, the scratchy grass I landed on when Jacob Donnell and Hoodie Menendez pulled down my pants in second grade.
When I first started working at the store this summer, Dad would write down everything for me. But now he just tells me the orders and I remember. That s because I keep lists in my head. Once it s on a list, it stays there.
This morning, Dad helps me load the groceries onto the back of the bike. First the ten-pound rice bag and the packages of multigrain flour. Then the light stuff like spicy chips and boxed frozen dinners.
Watch the road, come back quickly, he says as I strap on my helmet. And DON T GET DISTRACTED.
Which is what he always says, so I run through Carmine s fifty flavors of ice cream in my head, a trick I ve learned when I don t want to listen to him.
It s hot and humid outside, and I can hear the bike s gears grinding as I pedal down Comm Ave. Comm Ave runs through Allston all the way to Boston, and it s short for Commonwealth Avenue, but the only people who say the whole name are from out of town, like my aunt and uncle from San Diego.

Carmine s Ice Cream Parlor is also on Comm Ave a few blocks from the store, and by the time I get there after my deliveries, I m like the Niagara Falls of Perspiration. Miles is already in a booth with Binh, eating a double Sloopy-Goopy on a cone while Binh draws in his notebook.
Miles ( short, glasses, crossword ) sees me and says, You look like you have a wedgie.
I m about to glare, but actually . . . that bike is always giving me one.
A customer from our store is sitting in the booth behind my friends. She nods at me as I sit down, so I kind of nod back, too. I don t really know her, but I ve talked to her a couple of times. I think she goes to BU, because she carries a backpack with the college logo on it. Once she made me list all the different kinds of pickles we carry in the store (seventeen, if anyone wants to know). For some reason, she got a kick out of that.
I slide in next to Binh ( clean fingernails, mechanical pencil ), who s drawing a delivery boy on a bicycle. Only he isn t delivering food: He s delivering brains-on-a-stick. Binh s idea of sci-fi.
What did you get? he asks me. He smooths his paper with two fingers. Binh moved here from Queens, and before that, he d lived in Vietnam. His family, the Phams, owns the Saigon Rose on Harvard Ave.
Caramel Swirl, I tell him.
He always gets that, Miles says. Even though he s memorized all the flavors.
I take a bite, letting the caramel melt slowly in my mouth. I like Caramel Swirl, I say. What s wrong with that?
You like a bowl, too, Binh observes. More ice cream that way. That s what s nice about him. Binh always sees the good, even with a bowl of ice cream.
Miles grins. Nah. He s worried he ll spill on himself if he eats a cone, and his dad will know he stopped for ice cream. Then there s Miles, who finds a rain cloud with every silver lining.
I watch Binh add shadows to the delivery boy. Where did he get the brain? I ask.
This is an extra brain, Binh explains. He is a space alien, in love with an Earth girl. He is giving the extra brain to her.
Ew, Miles says.
Binh grins. Love is strange. When he isn t out delivering food, Binh draws. I wish I could be like him, that I could be good at something. The only thing I can do is remember stuff, but what can you do with that? It s not like drawing or throwing a baseball.
Do you really know all fifty flavors? Binh asks me. I want to hear them.
Sure, I say. Appalachian Apple, Ambrosia, Banana Creme, Caramel Swirl, Chocolate Banana . . . I get to Death by Chocolate when Miles holds out his hand.
Stop, he says. Next he ll be telling us the periodic table.
Binh laughs. That s really good, Karthik. Alphabetical order, too.
Thanks, I say. Now you know who to call if you re having an ice cream emergency.
I m halfway through my bowl when my phone rings.
You delivered Ms. Carmichael s groceries? Dad asks.
On my way, I lie. If I tell him I did it already, I ll have to go back to the store right away.
Ask her if multigrain flour is okay. We were out of whole wheat.
I slurp quietly on my ice cream. Yep.
After I hang up, Miles says, What does he think you ll do? Run away with the groceries?
I shrug. Miles thinks my dad calls too much. His parents never call him, even when he was locked out of his apartment for an hour by his brother, Spencer. Our families are different, but our summers are different, too. One day Miles and I were hanging out on BU Bridge counting out-of-town license plates, and the next day I m hauling rice bags for my dad. I haven t told Miles why. I haven t told him the store is in trouble. It isn t the stuff you tell your best friend. I mean, we don t even talk about girls.
No, Karthik is a very responsible delivery boy, Binh says, grinning.
But why does he have to deliver groceries? Miles persists. It s not like you delivering takeout, Binh.
It is done in New York City, Binh says. I know. We used to live there. Customers, they like it. They think it is convenient.
Miles crunches on his cone. I guess. But can t people just carry their groceries home? That s what we do. Seems like a lot of work for one person on a bike, if you ask me.
It was either that, or studying cell mitosis, I say, which is partly true. My mom had a book all ready for me until Dad announced the plan.
The door to Carmine s opens and in walks Jacob Donnell, Hoodie Menendez, Sara Rimsky, and Juhi Shah. I try not to stare as they go up to the counter. Jacob and Hoodie order first, while Juhi studies the ice cream under the glass. If she notices me, she doesn t act like it. The only time she talks to me is when she comes to the grocery store with her mom. Hmm, she considers, flipping back her super-straight hair. Chocolate Banana or Caramel Swirl?
Jacob ( tall, Red Sox cap ) leans against the counter next to her, eating his Black Cherry ice cream. I hate banana, he says. Which is probably the only thing he and I agree on.
In second grade, Jacob sat next to me at lunch and shared a bag of chips with me. In second grade, that meant you were friends. Then at recess, Jacob and Hoodie pulled down my pants in front of everyone. And okay, it was second grade, and Jacob did this to everyone. But he didn t make them think he was their friend first.
Miles O Grady moved to Allston in third grade. Life got better after that. Miles knew everything about Boston history-like where all the major battles were fought, what kind of bayonets the colonialists used, what they ate, where they peed. It could have been totally boring, except Miles made history sound cool. At recess we would think up stories about Martians colonizing New England. By then, Jacob had gone from depantsing certain people (me) to beating them up. So Miles and I devised all these ways of walking home that involved NOT running into Jacob. Let s just say we got to know Allston really well.
Dude, Miles says to me now, your ice cream. It s dripping all over your shirt.
Your father will find you out now, Binh says.
I look down and wipe the dribbles off with a napkin. So what, I say. Meanwhile, I m straining to hear Juhi. I don t know why I care what she orders.
My cell phone rings again. Done, I say to my dad.
Karthik, come quickly. And don t stop for ice cream, he adds.
I get up to throw away my cup. I think of what I should say to Juhi, like:
Caramel Swirl is my favorite. (friendly)
Did you know Carmine s has fifty flavors? (nerdy)
Remember when we ate ice cream at my dad s store when we were little? (nostalgic)
But I know I won t say a word, because I m used to being Invisible.
I m at the trash can when Sara ( ponytail, stick-up-her-butt ) whines, Hurry up, Juhi. We ll be late.
I wonder where they re going. Jacob and Hoodie are busy snarfing their ice cream cones while Sara hasn t ordered anything, so she s standing with her arms crossed like an uptight cop.
Hey, we can go save seats, Jacob offers. Hoodie and I ll meet you there.
Yeah, Hoodie says.
Thanks, Sara says. That s super-nice.
Sorry I m so indecisive, Juhi says to Jacob.
He smiles at her. He was already tall, but this summer he s had a growth spurt and now he s a good three inches taller than everyone, which I hate.
You should get Rocky Road, like me and Hoodie did, he says.
Oh my god, you re right, she says, like he s cleared up some huge mystery for her.
C mon, let s go, man, says Hoodie.
At the door, Jacob and Hoodie se