一娅姆·卡克是我认识的第一个印度女孩。认识娅姆那会儿,她还不是一个女人,她高大且肥硕的手臂上,总会长出一道道青春期女孩发胖时遗留下的皱纹。那种皱纹我大腿上也有,但没有她明显。学校里当时只有两个印度女孩。而有一天,娅姆敲开我的门,对我说另一个印度女孩是婊子,我们就这样成了朋友。娅姆说话没有印度口音,至少我听不出来。这对我来说很难辨别。她很喜欢说自己的母亲、弟弟,又常欲言又止。只有在娅姆喝醉后,她才会再次开口,将长有皱纹的手臂搭在我肩上,问我是否知道,她爱她的母亲和弟弟,她也爱我。但他们不爱她,而我是唯一会爱她的人。我总会点头,“是,我知道。”娅姆听到后就会吻我的脸,就像电影里告别时的场景。但 Ayam Kak is the first Indian girl I know. When she knew Yam, she was not yet a woman. On her tall, plump arms, she grew up with wrinkles left by adolescent girls getting fat. The kind of wrinkles I have on my thigh, but not her obvious. At that time there were only two Indian girls in school. One day, Amy knocked on my door and told me that another Indian girl was a bitch, and we became friends. Yaam speaks no Indian accent, at least I can not hear it. It’s hard for me to tell. She likes to say that her mother, brother, often speaks. Only when she was drunk would she reopen her mouth and put a wrinkled arm on my shoulder and asked if I knew she loved her mother and brother and she loved me too. But they do not love her, and I’m the only one who will love her. I always nod, “Yes, I know. ” Ya hear my face will be kissing, just like the movie farewell scene. but