My So-Called Bollywood Life(32)

“It’s about this girl who goes on vacation to Europe before her wedding. She meets a guy whose name is, ironically, Raj. He’s a jerk to her at first, but they fall in love. When Raj says goodbye at the train station and hands her a cowbell for her to remember their time together, and boom! The heroine knows she only wants to be with him. The problem is, she’s supposed to marry someone else, and what does she do? Does she follow destiny or run away with Raj?”

“Winnie, what is the point of this story?”

She flung her arms out and tilted her head back. “I think Dev is my Raj because even though he didn’t give me a cowbell, he winked! But Raj, the real one, not the one in this movie I’m telling you about, broke up with Jenny, and he’s not in my love story at all anymore. Oh, and I think that you can still get the auditorium for free this year if Gurinder Chadha is willing to do a master class with the Princeton faculty.”

Mr. Reece chuckled and dropped his head to his desk.





11





DANGAL / WRESTLING





A Bollywood movie, even one about a sport, must have an appropriate amount of drama.





Bridget handed Winnie a pumpkin-spice latte with the name Vinny written on it in black marker.

“Thanks, boo,” Winnie said.

A chill in the air whipped through her clothing and iced her skin. She hunched over her cup, hoping to absorb some of the heat. Her hair gave some added protection since she wasn’t sporting a braid for once, and Bridget had nagged her into taking the time to flat-iron. She could still have used a sweatshirt, though. Long-sleeve shirts weren’t going to cut it.

“Thank Starbucks, Vinny. I’m so happy they have a drive-through down the block,” Bridget said. “I can’t stand the slushy crap they serve here.”

Winnie looked down at a really important white line that she didn’t know the name of. She was sitting in a half-full stadium.

    “So are you coming to my mom’s pooja next weekend?” Winnie asked.

“Considering your mom specially invited me to come and pray for your slutty soul, of course I’ll be there.”

“My slutty soul could always use your support. Although it wouldn’t be slutty if I kept things to myself. Telling my mother that I have a thing for Dev was not one of my better ideas.”

“You can say that again,” Bridget said. She looked at her phone screen and then scanned the stadium.

“Is Henry on his way?”

“He’s walking in now. What about Dev?”

“He texted me a few minutes ago to ask what section we were seated in.”

Bridget wrapped an arm around Winnie’s shoulder and squeezed. “Are you nervous?”

“Excited. I feel like I should be nervous, though, only because I have no idea what we’re doing. Am I rebounding because of my super-long relationship with Raj? It doesn’t feel like rebounding, probably because I sort of maybe had a thing for Dev in freshman year, too. Before Raj.”

“Then it’s probably not rebounding,” Bridget said.

“Hey, guys,” Henry said as he approached their row. He smiled at Bridget, not even acknowledging Winnie’s presence.

“Hi!” Bridget said with a little too much bubbly in her voice. She scrambled to her feet so she could give him a hug. They stood in the dimming stadium lights, wrapped around each other for a moment, and Winnie felt a slow warmth in her stomach for her best friend.

    “Henry,” Winnie said after the couple pulled apart. “It’s nice to see you outside of work and school.”

“Yeah, what up?”

“Did you see Dev up there? He was supposed to be here by now, too.”

“Actually, he was right behind me,” Henry said.

Someone on the field blew a horn, and Dev dropped down next to her.

He took over the space with his man-smell and confidence. He was so much broader and taller than her that even though they were sitting next to each other, she felt that he was stealing the very air she was breathing. Worse, Dev wore a beanie and a leather jacket.

Holy baby Shah Rukh Khan. No music or backup dancers, but that strange feeling was there again.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi.”

He tugged on a lock of her hair. “Pretty. What’s that?” he asked, pointing to her cup.

“Oh. Um, a PSL. Why?”

He plucked the cup from Winnie’s hand and brought it to his mouth to take a sip.

“Dev!” He put his mouth right over the spout. If she drank from it now, it would be as if their lips were in the same place and they were kissing again.

    “Ugh,” he said as he handed the cup back to her. “That’s such a girl drink.”

“First of all, drinks do not have genders. And second, you ate my ice cream the last time we went out, and I was too distracted to really care then, but this is my latte we’re talking about. If you have a thing against the PSL, don’t touch mine.”

They stared at each other for a moment and then shared a grin.

“Hey, Dev,” Bridget said, leaning around Winnie. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to come to a football game.”