When Dimple Met Rishi(15)
“Yes.” Celia smiled, a little indulgently, Dimple thought. She definitely wasn’t as fired up about all of this as Dimple was.
Dimple had the feeling almost everything came easily to Celia. Her parents were extremely rich, so they’d paid for this without a second thought. It was just another way, like the sailing class Celia had taken already, to fill up the time until college began. “And I spy hot-teeez,” Celia added in a singsong, looking right at the group of hipster, model-beautiful people, ogling all of them, boys and girl. This time they didn’t notice Dimple looking.
“Welcome to Insomnia Con!” the bearded man boomed from the front of the class, beaming congenially around at all of them. The hall went instantly silent. “My name is Max Framer, and I’m your instructor for Insomnia Con. Please call me Max, not Mr. Framer. It helps us old folks feel young.” A few people laughed. “I’m delighted to see another year of shiny new faces, and I’m so psyched to see what you guys come up with this year. Now, before we go on to what I know all of you really want to know”—he paused, grinning—“i.e., Insomnia Con’s grand prize, I want to go over some basic info and ground rules first. That’ll ensure you guys actually listen to the words coming out of my mouth.”
There were groans and titters all around. Dimple was sure she’d go nuts if he didn’t spill the beans soon.
“So, first, welcome to San Francisco to those who aren’t from our wonderful city. A couple of things of note: This may be summer, but the temperature can drop to the sixties or lower at night. You’ll also become well acquainted with Karl.” A few people like Celia chuckled, but Dimple just frowned, confused.
“What?” she whispered to Celia. “Who’s Karl?”
Celia whispered back, “Fog. It’s the fog that comes off the water.”
Dimple began to nod and then shook her head. “No, that’s still confusing. You guys named a natural weather phenomenon?”
Celia grinned. “Welcome to San Francisco.”
At the front of the room Max was still speaking. “So, next: I’m going to pair you guys up. I don’t want you to pair with people you’re rooming with, but if you indicated a preference on your application, I’ve taken that into account.” Dimple hadn’t met Celia until after she’d already put in an application (well before Papa and Mamma had actually said yes—she had to save her spot, just in case), so they hadn’t requested each other. She wondered whom she’d be paired with. Hopefully not that frosty blond girl who looked like she ate little kids for dessert, though Celia probably wouldn’t mind, judging from the way she was still darting glances over at that group.
“Secondly,” Max continued, “once you find out who your partner is, I want you to begin sitting together so you can start working on your concept right away. Some of you may already have a notion of what you want to do; others won’t. That’s okay. All we’ll focus on for the next two to three days is fleshing out your fledgling ideas. And then we’ll get into the fun part—actual development.”
There was a noticeable frisson through the room. Everyone was chomping at the bit to get started. Dimple was sure most, like her, knew exactly what they wanted to do.
“Okay,” Max said. “Now, for the part you’re all waiting for. The grand prize for this year’s Insomnia Con.” He paused, and the entire lecture hall held its breath. “Jenny Lindt will consider partnering with the winning team to make their app market ready and fund the advertising. Your app could go out into the world with the power of Meeting Space, Inc., behind it. Let that sink in.”
The latter part of Max’s words were swallowed by the pandemonium that erupted. Dimple turned to Celia, her eyes wide. She was in shock; she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“Well, it’s settled then,” Celia said casually. “You’re just going to have to kick some major butt.”
Dimple shook her head. Her mouth was so dry her lips stuck to her teeth. Her head swam until she could barely see. Was this real? “I can’t even— Oh. My. God. They’ve—they’ve never done anything like this before.” This was everything. She had to win.
“All right.” Max raised his voice, and everyone calmed down a bit, though there was a new energy in the room, buzzing, thrilling, churning through each of them. “I’m going to begin calling out the partnerships. When I say both your names, come to the front row and have a seat.”
The door opened right into the silence. Dimple turned.
Of course. It was Rishi.
CHAPTER 9
It was clear he’d missed something vital. Everyone’s eyes were bright, their cheeks flushed. Fifty pairs of eyes took in his presence, but forty-nine pairs of them didn’t really seem to register him before they swiveled away.
He saw Dimple instantly. Hers were the only pair of eyes that were attempting to incinerate him. He thrust his chin out and stepped forward. He had just as much right to be here as she did.
“Oh, hey, hold on before you take a seat,” the dude with the exuberant red beard at the front of the class said. “I’m just about to call out partners, so you may as well take a seat with yours. What’s your name?”
“Rishi Patel.”