My So-Called Bollywood Life(57)

“Just as long as you get what you want, right? Look, I don’t want to be another casualty in your attempt to prove destiny wrong. You obviously believe in fate, and that means that while you and I were together, you never believed in me. That’s the only reason I could think of to explain how you’d easily pick your future over your future with me.”

His words only made her cry harder. He got in his car before the next sob released from her chest.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, and roared out of the parking lot. She didn’t know how long she stood there. She snapped out of her haze when her phone started buzzing. She answered when she saw Bridget’s name.

“Winnie? Dev called and said that he left you at Dosa Hut and for me to go pick you up. Are you okay? What happened?”

Winnie collapsed on the sidewalk. She told Bridget the story through sniffles.

“Are you kidding me? What are you thinking?”

Winnie felt as if Bridget had slapped her across the face with her angry retort. “What? Why would you say that?”

    “Winnie, is NYU that important to you that you’ll dick over someone who obviously is in love with you? Who you’re supposed to be in love with?”

“I’m not—he’s not—Dev doesn’t love me. I don’t love him.” I think.

“Obviously not if screwing him over was so easy. Winnie, you should’ve walked out on Reece.”

“I didn’t walk out on Reece because I need to be in charge to help clear his name. How can I do that if I’m not chair?”

“And as a side benefit, you still get what you want out of the whole situation. Dev is facing expulsion because your ex-boyfriend’s girl is an evil mastermind. Dev was right. You were never into him the way he was into you if it was that easy to choose college over your relationship. His name is a stupid excuse. If I’d known his name would make you crazy, I would’ve told you last week when I…Crap.”

“No. No, no, no, no. Bridget, please tell me you didn’t know.”

There was a long pause. “Henry told me, and I told Dev that he had to say something.”

“Henry, you, and Dev.” Winnie squeezed her eyes shut and rocked. “How many other people know? I’ve been trying so hard to come to terms with this on my own, and you guys all lied to me. You didn’t tell me about Raj dating Jenny, either, a few months ago.”

“Are you seriously holding that against me?”

“It’s twice in the same year. Raj at least told me the truth.”

    “Then maybe you guys really do deserve each other.”

“For you to judge me when you’re the one who’s wrong is bullshit.” She didn’t care that the couple parking in front of the restaurant was staring at her.

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night,” Bridget said. “You have your stupid festival now, and when you realize how much of an idiot you’re being, call me.” She hung up, and the line went silent. Winnie looked down at the screen and sniffled. Through blurry eyes, she called her mother.

“Hall-oh?” her mother said cheerfully.

“Muma,” Winnie croaked.

“Winnie? You know you’re not supposed to call me in the middle of school. What happened? Is there an emergency?”

Winnie managed to ask her mother to pick her up at the Dosa Hut before hanging up. In the brisk chill of late fall, Winnie felt her heart break, and the real thing hurt so much more than she could’ve ever imagined.





20





AMAR AKBAR ANTHONY





Remember my blog entry about how characters get their ideas from friends or the gods? Well, there is an exception to that rule. If you don’t have any friends left and the gods are leaving you hanging, you can ALWAYS count on family.





Winnie was grounded for all eternity. Cutting classes was apparently worse than breaking into someone’s house and stealing a bunch of movies. She was pretty sure that the tongue lashing she received was bad enough to cause lesions. Not to mention the two days of detention.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t get out of going to school, and while she tried to get through her misery, Bridget and Dev were nowhere to be found. Raj, on the other hand, was suddenly available at every turn and continued to try to corner her for a private talk.

By the end of the week Winnie looked so wrung out and sallow that her grandmother convinced her parents to let her stay home, in fear of her skin color changing. She spent the day in bed matching up actors with characters in her current life situation. By two a.m. she was so drunk on Starbucks bottled mochas and sleep deprivation that she knew she had to get answers on how to fix things.

    Winnie put on Dev’s hoodie, booted up her computer, and sat cross-legged on her bed while she made the video call.

Pandit Ohmi answered after two rings. He sat behind the same desk, with the same powdered mark on his forehead, wearing a similar polo shirt to the one he’d worn when she first spoke with him.

“Vaneeta Mehta. I was wondering when I’d hear from you again.”

“Panditji, I have a question for you. How does it feel? To always be right?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Pretty terrible sometimes, unfortunately. What was I right about, Ms. Mehta? Ah, did you find your love?”