My So-Called Bollywood Life(25)

“Winnie is better at logistics than I am,” Raj said. Winnie shot Raj a grateful look.

“I’m aware of her strengths, Raj, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay to go against procedure. Because of your work, Raj, you’ll be the sole point of contact and lead on the film festival. Winnie, you’ll remain the president of the film club. I heard there was a great turnout at yesterday’s film screening, by the community as well as the student body. It’s best if you focus on that.”

Winnie couldn’t avoid sounding shrill. “You do realize I need this on my transcript, right? The film festival is the only thing that can really make my application shine.”

“I’m sorry, Winnie, but rules are rules. You’ll figure out some other way to shine. And from what I understand, this might help prevent any awkwardness between you two.”

“There isn’t any awkwardness! Raj?”

To his credit, he gave Mr. Reece a winning smile. “Nope, we’re good. In fact, I need Winnie to be my co-captain. I’ll have other stuff that I need to do, so it would be great if she helped.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have committees to shoulder some of the grunt work,” Mr. Reece said. “But you can’t share a title with her. Unless you don’t want to be a part of the leadership team at all. That means your college application will suffer, too, right?”

    Raj hung his head, and Winnie felt her last line of hope snap. She tried to keep the panic from her voice so she didn’t sound like Reese Witherspoon in Election.

“Mr. Reece, I worked so hard for this. I know you haven’t been a faculty advisor for film club before, but you have to understand—”

“No, you have to understand,” he interjected. “It’s my job to follow the rules.”

The burning in her chest was painful, so she took a moment before responding. “What would it take for you to make an exception? There has to be a way to make an exception.”

“An exception,” Mr. Reece said with a sigh. “Okay, there may possibly be room for an exception. According to the rules, a faculty advisor can make an exception to the way school clubs operate based on an extraordinary contribution by an individual student or group of students. If you can demonstrate your leadership capabilities like Raj has, then maybe we’ll talk.”

“But Ms. Jackson—”

“Ms. Jackson is not your advisor anymore. I run things differently.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll be back in a few minutes for the meeting. I have a couple calls to make. I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you, Winnie. Raj, looking forward to seeing what else you do with the festival.”

When he left the auditorium, Winnie groaned.

    “I’m sorry, too,” Raj said quietly.

“Did you know about this? That he was really going to enforce that stupid school rule?”

“No, but after his email I figured he might mess things up. He’s always been crazy about following school rules. I’ll talk to him. I wanted to do something special for you. I didn’t expect it to make things worse.”

“Well, at least he’s right about one thing. No awkwardness, since we won’t have to work together.”

He hopped off the stage. “Don’t count on it. I told you, I’m not giving up. I’m the guy your prophecy says is the love of your life. Maybe if I help you with Mr. Reece, you’ll see that, too. I’ll let you know what I come up with so we can figure this out like we always do. Together. I’ll be back. I have to check with my academic advisor on whether or not he sent my transcripts. I’ll see you in a few for the meeting.”

When she was alone with the sound of the humming air echoing in the empty auditorium, she lay down on the center of the stage. Not only had she been dumped by her longtime childhood friend/boyfriend, but Mr. Reece had dumped her, too.

She looked up into the tangles of wires and lighting equipment in the rafters and pressed a palm to her stomach. It was over. She should give up and apply to be a theater major at the local college. She’d live in her parents’ basement for the rest of her life and never see Cannes or study with film theorists like she always wanted, but hey, her parents were awesome. They would still love her even if she was a deadbeat loser.

    Winnie heard the doors open again, and muffled voices. She closed her eyes as the footsteps got closer and she felt two people approach her.

“Is she dead?” said a familiar voice.

“No, she’s wallowing.”

Bridget and Dev lay down, sandwiching Winnie between them. She smelled the rich, musky cologne that clung to Dev on one side, and Bridget’s flirty perfume on the other.

“Things just got so bad,” Winnie said, and lifted her hands to cover her face.

“So the meeting sucked?” Bridget said.

“Mr. Reece took away my title as film-festival chair. It’s against school rules.”

They both groaned.

“What are you going to do?” Bridget said.

“Live with my parents for the rest of my life and be a film-buff loser.”

“You know what?” Dev said. “This reminds me of one of the few Bollywood movies I’ve watched in my life. The heroine runs away from home to be with this dude, but she finds someone else on her journey to get there. This other guy is also running away from home. The girl realizes that what she’s wanted all along is not for her anymore. There’s a lot of songs and they meet in a train. The heroine is as talkative as you.”