When Dimple Met Rishi(75)
“Right. So . . . I think we should go further.”
Rishi laughed and groaned simultaneously, rubbing a hand over his face. “Dimple, believe me, I do too. But this is not a conversation to have when we’re both . . .” He made a vague gesture between them. “We need to think this through and talk it through with more rational minds. At least, I’d like to.” He raised his eyebrows pleadingly.
Dimple sighed. “If you’re doing this because of some old-school concern for my ‘honor,’ you don’t need to.”
He came forward and took her hands. “It’s not about your honor or mine. It’s just something I feel we should think about beforehand. Instead of just doing it, I’d like to have some time to really decide if we want to take that step now.”
It made sense, what Rishi was saying. This would be her first time, and, she was pretty sure, his, too. They definitely shouldn’t do it up against a grotty wall in an abandoned alley with feral cats watching judgmentally from a trash can. And she still needed to think about that voice, about what it had said. About whether any of those things had merit. If they did, sex would only complicate things further. But still . . . a part of her squirmed, frustrated at being thwarted. Her desire was like its own person, pushy and bossy as heck.
Dimple took a deep breath. “You’re right,” she said, pushing herself off the wall. “Let’s think about it and reconvene at a later date.”
Rishi laughed and reached for her, snaking a strong arm around her waist and pulling her snug against him. They walked back out toward the sidewalk together, Dimple feeling confused and frustrated and all manner of things she couldn’t even begin to untangle.
? ? ?
On Tuesday evening Ashish set the camera on a little tripod he’d bought and looked through the screen. He’d gotten even more serious now that (a) the performance was only four days away and (b) the conversation with Celia had not gone well that night after Rios. Not that either Celia or Ashish had discussed anything with Dimple (or Rishi). But their refusal to discuss it beyond an Everything is fine said volumes.
Dimple and Rishi posed in their final outfits, grinning as the opening strains of “Dance Pe Chance” began to play.
Dimple wasn’t even that nervous anymore. Okay, that was a lie. Every time she thought about dancing in front of an audience full of strangers in four short days, she wanted to throw up or die. Or leap from tall buildings. Anything that would require her to not perform. But she kept thinking of the end goal. The prize. The money that would enable her to build a better app, which would be so much better in the long run. It’d make her—them—that much more likely to win Insomnia Con.
“Did you know seventy-eight percent of the winners of the talent show have also gone on to win Insomnia Con?” she said, pausing the laptop to adjust her headband.
“Yes, I did know, my sweet,” Rishi said, kissing the side of her head. “You’ve told me about seventy-eight thousand times.”
Ashish snorted from behind the camera, but Dimple silenced him with a glare. “Are you still recording? Shouldn’t you pause when we’re not dancing? Aren’t you running out of space?”
Ashish looked at her quizzically. “You ask a lot of questions when you’re nervous.”
“What do you mean?”
He smiled and shook his head. “I’m uploading all of these to the cloud, so they’re not being stored on my phone. We have a megaton of video, so that was the best option.”
“?‘A megaton’ is right.” They’d spent a good four hours the night before watching videos from their “training sessions,” as Ashish was calling them, or “torture sessions,” according to Rishi. He insisted Ashish had gone all Coach Taylor/Friday Night Lights on them.
But Dimple liked the amount of effort Ashish put into coaching them. He had a natural eye for choreography, and everything he said sort of clicked for her. She knew they had a much stronger routine now than they’d had at the beginning. It was funny and fun, quirky, and just cool enough to get the votes they needed.
Rishi ran a hand along her cheek. “It’s going to be okay. Even if we don’t win, we’ll have tried our hearts out. That’s all we can do.”
She put a hand over his. “I know. But I want it so much. We have to win this, you know? Not just this talent show, but Insomnia Con. We have to.”
He shook his head, a little bewildered. “But why? You’re so talented, Dimple. Even if you don’t win this one contest, you’re going to go on to do amazing things. This app is going to change lives.”
“I know. That’s why I want it to get the best possible chance it can.” She looked deep into his eyes, trying to get him to see what she saw. “This app can help people like Papa—I have no doubt in my mind. That’s not me being arrogant; that’s just what living with someone with diabetes has taught me. I’ve seen it encroach on his life. I’ve seen what it did to him. He tries to hide it, but the anxiety is real. And winning Insomnia Con is going to help me get to Jenny Lindt, the one person I know can help me get it out to a wider audience. She’s amazing, Rishi. You guys are probably tired of hearing me say it, but she is. I feel like just being in her presence will help me make my app better, let alone if she decides to help us build and market it.” Dimple laughed, realizing how intense she’d gotten, like she always did when she talked about coding or Jenny Lindt. She was even clutching Rishi’s arm in a death grip. “Sorry,” she said, loosening her stiff fingers.