My So-Called Bollywood Life(52)

    “Wha—”

He tilted his head at Winnie and cranked up the volume. The room dimmed, and Winnie turned toward Mr. Reece to ask him if he knew what was going on, but her faculty advisor had abandoned her.

The beat morphed into an Indian song so familiar that the microphone slipped from her hands and landed with a sharp crack on the stage floor.

Her mouth fell open as a spotlight illuminated a figure in the middle of the dance floor.

Dev.

He was wearing a fedora. Indian guys only wore fedoras when they were about to bust out some really cheesy Michael Jackson moves.

Dev did a pelvic thrust and a mini moonwalk to a drumbeat right before the chorus started. Classic Michael.

He transitioned into an arm wave before popping, locking, and pointing at her with a wink.

The crowd was cheering, fists pumping with the music, even though only a handful of people in the ballroom understood the lyrics. Dev had an innate rhythm that Winnie had never expected. A lot of Indian guys danced, but this was Dev! The same Dev who mocked her love for Bollywood dance numbers. Yet there he was, in the middle of the floor, killing it.

    He ran forward, fell to his knees, and skidded to a halt in front of her with outstretched arms. She knew the song and the dance that accompanied it better than anyone. This was the part where the girl jumped in and started dancing, too. She leaned down and whispered, “What do you think you’re doing?”

He stood and grabbed her hand, tugging her off the stage. She fell into his arms, and before she could regain her equilibrium, Dev was spinning her close.

“How’s this for Bollywood hero?” he said.

She watched the crowd twirl around her as she moved. Dev let go of her hand, and she managed to stop before crashing into a nearby table. When she looked toward Dev again, she was smacked in the face with another surprise.

He had backup dancers. She saw Jai and the South Asian dance team move in synchronized movements around them. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t imagining things, but there they were. Dev and the team followed the same choreography as in the movie.

Bridget appeared at her side and gave her arm a push. “Dev wanted to do this for you. This is your song, girl! He’s telling you that he’s more important than some stupid prophecy ever could be. Are you really going to stand here, gaping and shocked, while the one guy who actually cares more than Raj ever could, more than any guy ever has, dances to get your attention?”

    Winnie looked over at Dev, whose smile was wavering. He was dancing for her, probably feeling even more embarrassed than she did. She had to give him points for being unique. Winnie reached for Dev, and he was right there waiting for her.

She moved with him to the music, and the sound of screams and cheers was so loud that she almost couldn’t hear herself think. Dev grinned at her, and in the final chorus, others joined the dance floor, until there were bodies everywhere, bumping together, jumping and moving to the sound of her favorite song.

Winnie gripped Dev’s shoulders, and he came to a stop, took off his fedora, and dropped it on her head. He leaned in close, pressed his cheek to hers, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I think I understand why Bollywood movies have songs,” he said. “They understand that sometimes people feel so much they have to sing and dance about it. Winnie, no one else makes me want to sing and dance like you do. No one else could get me to sing and dance. It’s taken three and a half years for me to get your attention, but now that you’re looking at me, I want you to know that I’ll make sure every day we have together is just as filmi as the next.”

He framed her face in his hands. The lights pulsed and the music thrummed around them as Winnie watched Dev’s mouth and listened to his muffled words. They poured through her heart and brightened every part of her.

    She gripped his wrists. “I have to tell you something.”

Dev leaned his forehead against hers. The fedora tilted up under his sweet gesture. “What?”

“Screw filmi. The real thing with you is so much better.” Winnie reached up and kissed him. He opened his mouth, and they melted closer together. Despite the number of people who jostled them, they stayed connected, with the music, with their feelings, and with each other. For the first time in so long, Winnie truly felt whole again, when she hadn’t even known that a part of her had been missing.

The crowd parted behind Dev, and she saw in the distance Raj watching her, near the door of the ballroom. Their eyes met again, and Winnie’s heart thudded in her chest. He looked brokenhearted, but Winnie couldn’t go to him. Not anymore.

Before she turned away, Jenny Dickens, in a black sheath dress, stepped up behind Raj and curled a hand over his shoulder. She smirked and led Raj out the ballroom doors.

“What is it?” Dev said, looking over his shoulder, but Raj and Jenny had already left.

“Nothing,” she said. “No one. What are we going to do now?”

Dev leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “Dance?”

“Yes,” she said with a laugh. “Let’s dance!” She spotted Bridget and Henry dancing with a few others at the edge of the floor. When Winnie waved, they burst through the crowd and surrounded them. Henry pounded Dev on the back, and Bridget hugged Winnie. The music changed, and this time the DJ played the Bollywood “Breakup Song.” Laughing, Winnie and Dev changed up their crazy dance moves.