My So-Called Bollywood Life(9)

    “Don’t think about it,” Bridget said. “Just walk in, swinging your hips, with that smile on your face. You’ll stun and scare them all.”

“I guess. It’s the only ammunition I have right now. At least Ms. Jackson knows how much work I put in last year, so hopefully if I start to babble, she’ll cover.”

They’d almost reached the double doors leading into the auditorium that had been Winnie’s favorite place for years until the day she’d asked Raj for the space she needed to think. That was right after he told her he wasn’t going to apply to NYU. He wanted to go to a fancy engineering school in Boston, and he expected her to go with him.

“You can do this. I know you can,” Bridget said, taking Winnie’s backpack from her. “You’ve always been a talker. Even if you’re broken up, you’ll be able to figure it out.”

“Yeah? Okay. Okay, you’re right. Bridge? I don’t know what I’d do without you. I owe you,” Winnie said.

Raj. The film festival. The stupid prophecy. Everyone watching. All of it was running through her head as she flung open the doors to the auditorium and put on her most brilliant smile for the show.

The members took up the first three rows, facing a lean Indian guy onstage. His hand froze midair.

    That’s right, she thought. Hello, Raj, I’m back.

She sauntered down the aisle, putting in an extra swing to her swagger. It was do-or-die time. “Am I late?” she said cheerfully. “Sorry about that. Thanks for waiting for me, guys.”

Raj stood on the stage, under the spotlight, something he’d grown fond of over the last year. It had been a couple of months, but he looked like he had when she’d last seen him. Even from a distance she could see his gelled hair, tight jeans, and designer polo shirt.

If her life was a movie, a strain of horrible violin music would be playing in the background while images of past regrets whirled like a rotating screen around her head.

“Hey, Raj. Hey, everyone!” Her smile froze when she saw Mr. Reece sitting in the front row. She faltered midstride.

“Mr. Reece.”

“Ms. Mehta.” He stood up, adjusting his tweed jacket over his Captain America T-shirt and pushing at the bridge of his glasses. “Nice of you to finally show up.”

“Uh, are you stepping in for Ms. Jackson? Is she sick?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he said. “If you’d been on time, then you would’ve heard when I announced that Ms. Jackson is expecting, and can’t commit to any extracurricular groups this year. That’s why you get me. I know you’re so excited to have one of us science geniuses as your faculty advisor, but as a former stunt double for Wil Wheaton, I do have film experience. Raj asked me this morning if I was interested.”

Winnie’s dread ballooned, but she managed to choke out, “Ms. Jackson didn’t say anything to me. Raj didn’t check with…great. This is…great.”

    He raised an eyebrow. “Come now, Ms. Mehta. In the three years I’ve had you in my science classes, you’ve never shied from the truth.”

This time she did smile. As teacher and student, they’d had a love-hate relationship. Most of the time, Winnie had tried to love him, while she was sure Mr. Reece hated her. “Did you get my present from camp?”

“I do enjoy a good three-D puzzle of the Death Star. But I don’t know how many times I’ve had to tell you that my acting mentor was in Star Trek, not Star Wars.”

“It was a joke.”

“Ha ha. As bribes go, you should’ve sent a fruit basket like everyone else.”

“Bribe is such a dirty word, Mr. Reece,” Winnie said. “After all those mandatory classes you and I have been through over the years. I like to think of it as incentive.”

“It didn’t work.”

“I still got an A in physics last year.”

“That’s because I grade on merit, not on taste,” he said. Some people in the audience started laughing.

She ascended the stage and scanned the familiar faces of other board members in their class, the pitying expressions of underclassmen, and the supportive smiles of a few people she was grateful she could count on. She turned to Raj.

“Hey,” she said.

    “Hey, Winnie.” He tried to smile at her, too, and shoved his hands in his front jeans pockets. Winnie felt the tears burn in her throat. Oh shit, she thought.

A piercing whistle snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. Dev Khanna lounged in the back row. His molasses brown eyes fixed on hers, and for one moment something clicked in her head, like a frame locking into place.

Dev and she had been sharing weird looks since the beginning of freshman year. They’d been on their way to becoming friends—she’d been sure of it—but then he’d stopped talking to her when she started dating Raj, probably since Dev was the only person who hated her now ex.

“Thanks for that, Dev!” she shouted. The sound of laughter had her striking a pose automatically, hoping that no one noticed that her hands were still shaking.

“Your ex looks way better now that you’re not with her, Shah!” Dev called.

The auditorium boomed with laughter, and although Winnie’s insides were twisted, she kept smiling. Raj, on the other hand, looked like he was about to commit murder.